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blakelysco-pilot · 1 month ago

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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!

Tags: Tag List: @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @the-captains-swagger-stick @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @therealslimshakespeare @beingalive1 @ptvstvrrr @lestweforget5

#eight to the bar #eight to the bar: ev & val #oc: valencia dirosano #everett blakely #ev & val #masters of the air #everett blakely x oc #mota fanfic #oc: olive lewis #james douglass #masters of the air x oc #curtis biddick #just a snappin #rosie rosenthal #rosies riveters #pappy lewis #hbo war #gina baker writes

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winniemaywebber · 1 month ago

Text

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

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 3 months ago

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 18

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."

#fic | i'm your man #mota oc #rosie rosenthal x oc #oc: frankie #rosie rosenthal #oc: george #everett blakely #john egan #frankie x rosie #george x blakely #mota

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bcolfanfic · 4 months ago

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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)

#ev x helen #young vets au #everett blakely #helen mota #mota fic #mota oc

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bandagesandloveletters · 6 months ago

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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

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1d5soslittlemixonechicago · 2 years ago

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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

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years ago

Text

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 [email protected] 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

#Weird and Wonderful Hatters Challenge #writing challenge #writing prompt

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written-in-sunshine · 6 years ago

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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)

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

#Current Fandom List

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blakelysco-pilot · 5 months ago

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Over the Threshold

A post-war interlude in the Eight To the Bar series.

When Valencia had written home in August 1943, she wasn’t sure how her mother would react to the news that she had met someone. She’d been through it before; once, where she had gushed over a wonderful man that had only ended up hurting her, only after she’d given all of herself to him. When she had spent hours crying on Curt’s shoulder, never fully divulging to her mother what had happened. Only that, her wonderful man had found someone else.

Her mothers first letter had been what she expected. Skepticism and worry for her daughter; so far away and falling in love on a whim with a pilot. But as time wore on, and Everett remained part of her letters her mother seemed to warm up to the idea of him. It was a letter in March of 1945 that had surprised her- the parlor floor in her childhood home, a gift for them both, should they choose to start their life in New York after the war.

A building that her father had saved to purchase when they immigrated from Sicily, and that her mother had kept pristine after his death. She’d collected rent from tenants for years, and to know that her mother was giving up the rent on that floor for her and Everett, well, that meant something. Everett was excited at the prospect, writing to his own mother back in Seattle to invite her to meet him in New York, to meet Val, whenever the time came. But he knew his sweethearts family relied on that rent, so he made a promise to his mother in law that they would continue to pay rent until they found a place of their own.

So, they had stayed, and lived in the DiRosano home while they worked on their own fixer upper. It had taken them six months into their marriage, plus the eight months prior, to get their forever home ready. Not going far from her mother in Bensonhurst, they were making the ten minute move to Dyker Heights.

Now, the day was upon them, and he wasn’t surprised to find her sitting in the bay window in their now vacant parlor floor apartment, knees tucked up to her chest as she watched the leaves fall over Bath Avenue.

“Honey?”

“Hmm…”

“Val, all that’s left is, well, us.”

“Okay…”

That’s when he saw the tears in her eyes. He rarely ever saw her cry; there had been only four occasions; when Curt went down, VE Day, when he proposed, and the day they got married. He could count it all on one hand.

“Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I’m being silly,” She furiously wiped her eyes. “It’s not like the house is going anywhere. Mama and this place are staying put.”

“It’s okay to feel sad,” Coming to sit behind her, he pulled her back against his chest. “You lived your whole life here. We started our life here.”

“You’re right…”

“Of course I’m right. Now come on, I want to carry you over the threshold of our house.”

“Charmer,” She scoffed. “How many thresholds have you carried me over now?”

“Hmmm, this will make three,” He murmured, pressing his lips to the underside of her jaw. “The hotel in Palm Beach on our honeymoon, this place, and now…”

“Hmm, I see your point. Lots of new rooms to christen, too, Mr. Blakely.”

“Exactly,” He grinned against her cheek. “What do you say? Ready for the next adventure Mrs. Blakely?”

Turning from her spot, she wrapped her arms around him, carding her fingers through his already mused hair, the curl that fell over his forehead landing right back in place. Everett pulled her into his lap with practiced ease, holding her close as she took her time letting her hands explore him as they had done countless times before. Nosing against him, her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled his scent, the cologne he had put on after his shower that morning now mixed with the scent of a hard day's work. She had never loved a single scent more than that of her husband.

“Take me home,” She whispered, teeth closing over his earlobe, tugging gently. “But first, one more for the road.”

Tag List: @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @precious-little-scoundrel @beingalive1 @ptvstvrrr

#eight to the bar #eight to the bar: ev & val #masters of the air #oc: valencia dirosano #everett blakely #Ev & Val #post war Ev & Val #mota fanfic #post war #Everett Blakely x oc #masters of the air x oc #Gina baker writes #writers on tumblr

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blakelysco-pilot · 6 months ago

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As Long as You Follow

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Five

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

Relationships of any kind during wartime are sometimes more important than mission briefings or making sure there’s enough donuts for the boys. When misunderstandings put them to the test, the least likely of the bunch to keep a level head ends up being the one to see them all through. All it takes is a bit of time. And some good humor.

Part Four Follow along with the Eight To the Bar Playlist

What’s that expression? What goes up, must come down. That one, not always pertaining to tossing something up in the air and waiting for gravity to ultimately pull it back to its rightful place, but emotions too. Temperatures, and the trickiest of them all, feelings. Feelings seemed to be the biggest culprit, running both hot and cold, I love you no I hate you. And the crash? The crash always came after you felt like you were floating on cloud nine. And it always came out of nowhere.

It had been the perfect ending to what Val would call her worst day in England so far. Her friends were all safe, Curt and his crew included, and if she had to give it a name she’d say she was well on her way to being in love with Everett Blakely. He had given her the smallest taste of how he felt for her in his actions alone that night. Showering her in affection, never once asking for anything in return for all he had given her as they hid from the world- and the air raid- in the mess kitchen. Reminding her that he would continue to be a safe haven for her so long as she’d allow him. When Olive burst through the doors of the Red Cross hut after Val had come back, crying and looking like she had just lost everything, well, it proved the old saying right no matter how bad Val wanted to ignore it. The only question was who had made her cry the way she was; Benny or Douglass. She didn’t need specifics, what she needed was to make sure her friend was alright. As Val and Helen set about helping Olive get ready for bed, one with a soft hand to take off her makeup and wipe her tears, the other with a kind ear and shoulder, they had found out that it was James Douglass.

“Deep breath Chickie, and tell us what happened.” Val had wrapped Olive in a hug, the pair sitting on her bed as she waited for the sniffling to die down. Helen had joined them, taking up the empty spot on Olive’s other side.

“When we were walking back,” She hiccupped, hands wiping at her eyes furiously. “Benny, he told me that he knew when to bow out. He saw how Dougie and I looked at each other.”

“So then why is Doug mad?” Helen’s eyebrow raised, and Val could tell that the other woman was slowly starting to see where this was heading.

“He saw me hug Benny, it was all friendly! Benny even said he sees me as a sister! And Dougie, he…” The tears had started again, but both girls knew what she was trying to say.

“Doug saw the two of you.” Helen finished for her.

“He’s so…” Olive gestures with her hands, trying to pick the right word. “Angry.”

“Oh, honey,” Val sighs, stroking Olive’s hand. “Don’t let it worry you. He was probably just drunk and not thinking straight.” Olive nods, in unison with Helen,

“He’ll be fine by the morning,” Helen replied with a sweet smile. “He’s going to see you in that truck and he’ll forget he was ever angry the second he sees your pretty smile, mkay?”

“Exactly, it’ll all be alright. You’ll see.” Val grinned, and began helping Olive get ready for bed. Armed with a jar of cold cream, she set about taking her friend’s makeup off while Helen unpinned her hair and tied it up in a scarf for her, so that she could sleep comfortably.

It was not alright.

Everett is first at the truck the next morning, eyes sparkling as he spots Val hurrying over towards him. She greets him with a chaste kiss, one that has John Egan rolling his eyes as he stops for his morning coffee at the window Tattie is occupying.

“Morning ladies.” Ev turns to greet the rest of the Clubmobile once he’s satisfied that he’d given Val a proper hello.

“Morning Blakely,” Olive greets, placing two cups down on the ledge in front of him. “One for you, and 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 eerily similar to the one that Val makes almost daily. “He’s really upset.” “I wish he’d just listen to me,” She urges, her head pounding due to lack of sleep and dehydration. “If you could get him to–” “I’m staying out of it,” Everett responds, taking the cup on the right. “It’s none of my business if he wants to forgive you or not.” “I didn’t do anything!” Val can tell that just the discussion of it is causing Olive to get hot under the collar. Her eyes are beginning to water, and she looks like she might burst into tears at any moment.

“Honey,” Val coos, intervening before anything escalates further. “Olive really didn’t do anything. Her and Benny were only talking.”

“She’s your friend, Val. Of course you’re taking her side.” He sighs, and then turns from his girlfriend back to Olive. “You led my friend on and I’m not okay with that.”

“Ev!” Val half shouts, following him as he begins to depart.

She catches up to him just outside the equipment hut, his hand on the handle of the door, he’s surprised when she pushes the door shut on him, stopping him from entering.

“What the hell, Val!”

“First of all, you walked away without so much as a goodbye, Everett,” She starts, shoulder leaning against the door to stop him from going in, arms crossed over her chest. “Second, I don’t understand why you won’t even listen to Olive.”

“Honey, I really don’t want to fight,” He sighs, dropping his hand to her waist to try and coax her closer. “We had such a nice night, I don’t want to ruin the morning.’

“No one’s ruining anything.”

“I’m sorry I walked away without saying goodbye…”

“Go on…’

“Go on, what? I’m sorry for not saying goodbye.”

“You’re not sorry for almost making Olive cry?”

“Val, this is between her and Doug, and apparently still Benny.”

“Oh my god, you’re just as stubborn as your damn friend!”

“Don’t yell at me, I didn’t start this fight…” He stressed.

“No, that one’s on James Douglass.” She practically growled, pushing off the door and turning to head back to the truck.

“Now who’s not saying goodbye!” Everett called after her.

Val turned on her heel, stopping just long enough to see the uncertain look on his face, and hating every second of it. But she’d defend Olive, because that’s what friends did. Everett was doing it for Dougie, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Still, the idea of sending him up to fly without a goodbye; not something she would do.

“Fly safe, please.” She called out to him, her eyes softening just enough for him to see she genuinely meant it. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

She just caught his grin as he pulled the door to the equipment hut open, before she turned to join the girls back at the Clubmobile.

The remainder of the day had all of them in a funk. Olive was sad, Val was trying to stave off her anger and Helen and Tattie just wanted their friends to feel better. Just A Snappin had returned from its practice mission without a scratch, and Val had felt a surge of relief when Everett, accompanied by Croz, wandered up to the truck. Croz still looked a bit green around the gills, so when she tossed him a pack of gum from the open hatch, he eagerly accepted. Waving his thanks, he made his way to the equipment hut to drop off his gear, knowing that Ev needed a minute alone with Val after he had overheard the pilot and bombardier discussing their respective sweethearts that morning.

“Hey…” Ev looked sheepishly up at Val, hazel eyes squinting in the late afternoon sun.

“Hi…” Val dropped the rag she was using to wipe down the counter, dusting her hands off before jerking her head towards the back of the truck. When Ev nodded and moved to join her, she thought that maybe, this morning's event could be put behind them.

She quickly descended the three steps, joining Ev on the grass, but not moving any further for fear he was still upset.

“I’m sorry,” He spoke before she could get the words out. “I don’t want to argue with you, and I sure as hell don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it either,” Val sighed, taking his hands in hers. “I just… I know we both feel differently about this. But it’s also not our fight to be having.”

“Doug is real hurt.”

“So is Olive. Though to be fair, Dougie isn’t even giving her a chance to explain.”

“What’s to explain? He saw her with Benny.”

“You think he was able to tell what he really saw? It was dark and he had a few too many in him!” She could feel herself getting heated again, her eyes turning sharp, brow pinched.

“He saw her with Benny! And Benny is just as bad,” Ev practically spat. “He knew Dougie had feelings for her and he cashed in on that stupid bike race.”

“I’m not doing this again!” Val pulled her hands back.

“Doing what? Tell me Dougie is wrong?”

“Argue with you!” She turned, making her way back up the steps and into the Clubmobile, and Everett couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like she was speaking Italian under her breath. If she didn’t want him knowing what she was saying, it couldn’t have been good.

“Val!”

Helen appeared in the window, a sad smile on her face directed at him, and he knew he wasn’t apologizing his way out of this one.

“Give her some time to cool off, Ev.”

“Just, tell her I’m sorry. Again.”

“I will, don’t worry.” Helen nodded, watching as he walked off in the same direction Croz had gone earlier.

Just as Helen was about to turn and check on Valencia, she heard Olive shouting for Dougie as he passed. All three women in the truck held their breath, Tattie watching from the back door while Val and Helen remained in the truck.

“He looks like shit…” Tattie whispered back to them.

“What!”

“Like he hasn’t slept since this whole thing started.”

“Yea well, neither has she.” Val pointed out, Tattie and Helen nodding along in agreement just as they hear both Olive and Doug’s voices start to carry.

“Dougie, can we please talk?” Val and Helen are now watching from the hatch windows, eyes wide in curiosity. “I have nothing to say to you. Save it for DeMarco.” Douglass’s words cut across to her, and the girls can all see Olive trying to maintain her composure, not wanting a repeat of this morning. “I'd like to exp–” She starts, but he cuts her off. “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!” Olive stresses. “That’s not what it looked like last night,” He sighs, his shoulders dropping. The girls all see 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.

They’re all out of the truck like a shot as Olive returns. The tears are now freely flowing, and it takes every ounce of restraint on Val’s part not to go after Dougie for making her cry. Again.

“Oh, darling, he’s not worth it,” Tattie is first at her side in consolation. Reaching into her pocket she pulls out her hip flask. With a quick glance to make sure Chick isn’t around to see, she hands it over to Olive. “Now drink, it’ll calm your nerves.”

Olive does as she’s told, wincing as the whiskey works its way down her throat. Tattie lights two cigarettes, passing one to her, hand falling to her back softly as she tries to sooth her.

“Now,” She says, her eyes softening, though her words come out with the authority she’s known for. “Are you coming to the club tonight?”

Olive shakes her head with a deep sign, leaning against the truck and taking a deep drag of the cigarette.

“No, I’m just going to clean up and go to bed. I don’t have it in me to socialize tonight.

“Well, you let us know. You know we’re gonna look after you.” Val is on her other side, her own cigarette between her fingers as she works to settle her own nerves.

Olive gives a half hearted reply, stopping when she feels Meatball at her feet sniffing around. Benny is of course, right behind him with a kind smile, his preempted happiness at seeing his friend faltering as he takes in her appearance, and all of the girls around her. He’s worried, naturally, but they all reassure him that they’ve got it under control, and should they need him, they’ll give a holler. Val can tell that Benny is distraught over seeing Olive so sad, and she knows he feels partially responsible, so after he says his goodbye to Olive and the rest of them, Val beckons him over to the side, her voice low, though she knows that what she’s about to say no one passing by will understand anyway.

“Benny, so che sei preoccupato, ma per favore non provare a parlare con Douglass.” Benny, I know you’re worried, but please don’t try and talk to Douglass.

“Lo so, non farà che peggiorare le cose, ma in parte è colpa mia.” I know, it will only make it worse, but this is partly my fault.

“Non è colpa tua. Douglass è testardo.” It is not your fault. Douglass is stubborn.

“Fatemi sapere se ha bisogno di qualcosa. Anche tu, se è per questo. Ho sentito te ed Everett stamattina.” Let me know if she needs anything. You too, for that matter. I heard you and Everett this morning.

“Staremo bene, mi prenderò cura di lei.” We'll be fine, I'll take care of her.

Val was acutely aware of three pairs of eyes on them as she spoke to Benny, but she knew that he would understand, and she didn’t want to keep beating a dead horse in front of Olive. The poor girl was worked up enough as it is, so to hear them continue to discuss the arguments being carried between them and the boys, would only upset her more. So, she kept it quiet in her own way, and would do what she could to protect her friend, and lift her spirits.

That night in the club it’s just Val, Helen and Tattie. It feels like they’re missing a big piece of the puzzle without Olive there with them, and it brings down the mood substantially. Not to mention that Douglass is sticking close to Hambone, and Ev, try as he might, wasn’t getting much out of Val. She had accepted the drink he had gotten her when they arrived at the club, and she had thanked him with a kiss to the cheek the same way she had that night a few weeks ago when he had spotted her giving Curt the what for. Before they had become officially Everett and Valencia and were still toeing the line between flirty friends and a couple. Val hated it. She missed sitting on his lap at their table, the smell of his aftershave as she pushed her nose against his neck as they danced, the feel of his hands on her waist as he twirled her around. Glancing over her shoulder, she spots him at the bar with Brady and Crank looking, for lack of a better word, less than invested in the discussion that the other two pilots were currently having. Sparring him another glance, green eyes focused but trying not to be obvious, she completely misses Curt taking the seat next to her.

“Alright, what the hell did I miss? Where’s Olive?” He announces his arrival in a flurry of questions, as you do when your name is Curt Biddick.

“Olive’s in bed.” Val turns to him in reply.

“Is she sick?”

“Not sick, just,” Val takes a breath, wondering just how much Curt knows, and if Everett had divulged anything to him upon his arrival back at base. “Not feeling very social tonight.”

“Well, I know yous all missed me but, you can perk up now, ladies!” He joked, and Val knew he didn’t really know anything of what had gone on that day.

“We did miss you, Curt, but it’s more than that.”

“Well, how about ya give your old friend a dance and fill me in, hmm?”

He was holding a hand out to her, and she knew that if she denied him, he’d be on her in a fury of more questions and worries. So, with a forced smile, she obliged Curt his dance and let him lead her out to the dance floor as the band slowed down a bit.

Keeping his hands above the waist and in a respectable way, lest his mother come to England and give him a smack for anything more than that, he began to sway them gently, his eyes finding hers.

“So, why are ya giving me a dance when Blakely is all alone at the bar looking like someone kicked his dog?”

“We’re not exactly seeing eye to eye right now.” She sighed.

“What happened?”

“Well, long story short, you missed a spectacular bike race in the mess hall last night. Benny and Dougie had a bet. Winner walks Olive back to the hut.”

“DeMarco won, didn’t he,” It was not a question. “Is that why Doug is practically up Hambone’s rear end and Olive’s in bed?”

“Benny won,” She confirmed. “So he walked her back, and according to Olive, he told her that he was bowing out. He sees her as a sister and wanted to be friends, but Dougie had a few in him and saw her hug him.”

“So now he’s all pissy, and lemme guess. Blakely’s on his side so now you and him are at odds.”

“You know, after the war, you could go into psychology.”

“Doctor Biddick at your service!”

“Gross, no. I take it back, it sounds yucky.” Val scrunched up her face, causing Curt to bark out a laugh. It drew the attention of Ev at the bar, and had she been dancing with anyone else, she’d be worried, simply because of the current argument at hand.

“You want my opinion or nah?” Curt pulled her attention back to him just as the song began to wind down.

“You’re going to give it to me anyway,:” She shook her head, letting him lead her to the bar for a drink. “So let’s hear it.”

He stopped walking just as they reached Everett, Curt giving her a gentle nudge in his direction.

“Stop the fightin’ the both of yous,” He looked at Everett, then back to her. “And give your gal a dance, Blakely.”

He left them at the bar without another word, wandering over to where the Major’s were congregated at the other end, Bucky and Gale pulling him into whatever conversation they were having.

“He’s right…” Everett conceded, taking her hand and leading her away from the bar.

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” She glanced up at him, eyes twinkling, letting him know that she was done being upset.

“Let’s put this aside, even if it’s just for right now. Come dance with me?”

“Yea, okay,” He led her to the dance floor, finding an open space before pulling her close, her eyes fluttering closed in delight as he held her. “Missed you today.”

“Missed you more, honey.” His lips pressed against her temple, letting her know that he meant it.

“Is it bad that I want to lock them both in a room until they sort it out?”

“We can’t do that,” Ev chuckled. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“To who?”

“Either of them.” He assured her.

“And what about us?” She inquired, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Is it fair for us to argue too?”

“No, it’s not fair, but-”

“No buts,” She cut him off. “Just listen, please.”

“What she did was not okay, Val. Besides, isn’t Doug your friend too?”

She pulled away from him as if he had burned her, stepping back mid dance and putting enough distance between them that he wouldn’t be able to pull her back.

“Of course he’s my friend!” She hissed, trying not to disturb the other couples on the dance floor. “But that doesn’t make him any less capable of making a mistake, Ev!”

“So you’re admitting he’s wrong but Olive wasn’t?”

“Gesù Cristo, come può un uomo essere così testardo!" Jesus Christ, how can one man be so stubborn!

“Val, don’t start yelling, not here!” He grabbed her arm, and the two of them left the dance floor in a flurry, trying not to draw any more attention to themselves.

When they reached the bar, she pulled her arm from his grasp; it was just tight enough that she couldn’t slip away, but never painful, and fixed him with a look he had never seen before.

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“I’m. Leaving.” She ground out, smoothing her jacket before taking a deep breath.

“Honey, please don’t leave.”

“Why not? All we’ve done all day is argue over Doug!”

At that, Douglass turned from where he was at the bar with Hambone, eyes wide in shock. He hadn’t been expecting Val to be as heated as she was, but again, he supposed he should have known better than to assume Olive’s best friend wouldn’t take some frustration out on him.

“The hell did I do to you?” Dougie had regained his composure, turning to face Val in bewilderment.

“You,” she seethed. “You hurt my friend.”

“What, she can dish it out but she can’t take it?”

“Woah ayy enough you three!” Curt was between Val and Douglass before either of them saw it coming, and to Dougie’s dismay, Benny DeMarco was with him.

“Of course you’re here.” Dougie rolled his eyes at Benny, causing Curt to put just enough force into his stance and push Douglass back.

“You hearin me Doug? I said, that’s enough.”

Dougie nodded silently, watching as Curt turned back to Val who stood statue still, utter shock etched across her features.

“Demarco, walk her back,” He nodded at the pilot kindly. “I’ll be right there and then we’re gonna talk, yea?”

Val hugged Curt tightly before departing, and she knew he could see the tears in her eyes. He knew it before she felt the first one fall, that she was utterly terrified of losing Everett and her friendship with Douglass. For all the days she was tough as nails and kept him in line, he knew that the girl he used to walk home from work at night, who’d clutch his arm a little too hard if someone catcalled her, or cried on his shoulder when her heart was broken, was still in there somewhere.

As she turned to leave, she could see the broken look on Everett’s face. Someone else was walking her back. Someone who wouldn’t kiss her good night, or hold her until they absolutely had to part. It was someone else, not him, and if he could, she’s sure he’d give himself the beating that Curt surely wanted to bestow upon him. But she was safe with Benny, and she’d be safe with Curt. She just wished that she was safe with Everett instead.

Benny had walked her back, and it was the most uncomfortable silence that Val had felt in a long time. Meatball had dutifully followed his owner as he left, and trotted along happily between the two of them, stopping every so often to snuffle at the ground or bark. She wasn’t sure what to say, if she should say anything at all. She was grateful when Benny broke the silence by handing her a cigarette, the end already burning a soft orange ember.

“Thanks…”

“Hey, you know none of this is anyone’s fault. It’s all just…”

“An alcohol fueled misunderstanding?” She turned to him, her eyebrow raised.

“Yea, it really is,” He chuckled. “Doug was drunk last night. All he remembers is what he saw when he was drunk.”

“He made her cry twice, Ben…”

“I know. I’m mad at him for that too.”

“God, I left them in there with Curt,” She groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I left my boyfriend with Curt who, if looks could kill-“

“Woah, hey, come on now,” He drops a hand to her shoulder reassuringly as they come up to the Red Cross hut. “Curt wouldn’t hurt Ev or Doug.”

“Tell that to the last guy that made me cry.”

“The last guy had it coming, I’ll bet. But not Blakely or Doug.”

“Did I blow it with him completely? Maybe I am too much…” The words came out on a broken breath, and she felt herself about to crumble.

“Absolutely not. You’re not too much.” Benny pulled her into a hug, knowing that she needed it, and wouldn’t be able to wait for Curt to show up.

He traded places with the pilot as soon as he saw him approach, carefully shifting Val from his arms into Curt’s. Sharing a look, silently asking if he had needed to swing at anyone back in the club, Curt simply shook his head no, Benny breathing a sigh of relief. Offering him a wave, he called for Meatball who barely hesitated to follow him back towards the officers hut for their nightly routine.

“Come on now,” Curt soothed, hand rubbing up and down her back gently. “No crying.”

“I ruined it.”

“What, your mascara? Yea gal, ya did.”

“Curt…”

“Ohhh ya mean Blakely? Nah, not at all. He looks like someone kicked his dog but that fella’s still crazy for ya.”

“I yelled at him.” She lifted her head from his shoulder, swiping under her eyes furiously to get rid of the tears.

“I know, I heard ya.”

“Called him stubborn.”

“Mhmm, well, we all get that way from time to time.”

“What if-“

“No. You stick to ya guns. But, ya gotta clear your head; you’re both hot under the collar and not thinkin straight.”

“You think so? What if it ends up like-“

“Blakely ain’t him, you hear me? Yous two will work it all out, otherwise all my hard work will be for nothin.”

“What hard work?”

“Who do ya think slipped him your favorite drink, hm?”

“That was you!?” She shouted, eyes wide in disbelief. She had sworn it was one of the girls and they just weren’t budging.

“Yea dollie, it was me.”

“Curt Biddick!”

“Wanna see my best gal happy, so stop with the tears and go get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the mornin.”

“Love you, even if you are a huge pain in my ass.” She grinned, pulling him close.

“Yea yea, I know ya do,” He hugged her back tightly, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. “And I know I am.”

It took a full week. A full week of Val sticking close to the other girls, and Curt. A week of Olive slipping off to bed early and avoiding the Officers Club for fear of running into Dougie. A week of the three of them trying to get her out of the funk the argument had caused. Val barely saw Everett unless he was passing by the Clubmobile or in the Officers Club at night. They had scarce words for each other, but she always had his coffee ready in the morning, and he always had a cocktail waiting for her at night. They were allowing the other to cool down, and she wasn’t sure what Curt had told him, but she ventured a guess it was similar to what he had told her. Give it time. But still, there was just enough of a reminder there for the other to know they still cared. They were not throwing in the towel.

The boys had gone up on a raid earlier that morning, and Val hadn’t hesitated to send Ev off with his coffee and a kiss. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, send him up with anything less than her affection for him. Please. She had begged, hands holding his for the first time since their dance turned into an argument at the club the week before. Come back to me, Ev. Had made him promise he would, that she’d see both feet on the ground. And he had kept that promise. She’d spent the entirety of the time waiting for him, with her Rosary in one pocket, and her own red braid tied around her wrist. It was Curt who strolled into Interrogation first, cheeky smile and arms wide open for her. He was quick to reassure her that Ev was alright, and would be along any second.

“You gonna talk to him?” Curt asked, holding her at arm's length.

“Not here,” She shook her head. “Not the time or place.”

“Alright, that’s fair.” Curt was quickly shuffled into interrogation by Dickie, who offered her a one armed hug and a smile before continuing on.

Turning back to where she was working on doling out coffee, she saw Ev and Douglass enter the hut, the former scanning the room for her with tired eyes.

“All in one piece?” She questioned, holding out two coffee cups for them both. She still had a job to do.

“Yes,” Ev smiled, taking the cup from her before giving her hand a squeeze. “Later?”

“Come find me.” She nodded, quickly moving to the next set of boys who were coming into the hut. Douglass had left without so much as a thanks for the coffee, but she couldn’t let it eat at her, because Brady and Hambone were waiting with smiles,; albeit tired ones, as she handed off coffee and welcomed them back to base.

“Hey Val…” Hambone’s stage whisper didn’t do him any good at hiding what he wanted to say, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yea, Hammy?”

“Douglass is a cranky sunuvabitch without Olive glued to his side.” He carried on, and Brady couldn’t help but shake his head as he pushed his bombardier along down the line.

“I know, Hammy, I’m working on it. We all are.”

Val was cleaning up with Tattie, the two of them quickly packing away the leftover donuts, and moving it all to the Clubmobile. She had just stepped outside when Everett finally exited the interrogation room. He had been fully prepared to end the argument, but when Hambone had begun teasing Douglass about how Val also thinks he’s a cranky bastard, well, Everett couldn’t comprehend why his girlfriend would pour gasoline on an already blazing fire. His eyes scanned the room before he caught Tattie, the brunette giving him a stern look before gesturing outside with a nod of her head. Everett, taking the wordless cue as a sign to head outside, was stopped by Tattie as he approached the door, the same stern look on her face.

“Patch this shit up, would ya? I’m tired of my friends crying.”

“She’s been crying?” Ev looked at Tattie with wide, nervous eyes. His stomach dropping to his feet at the thought that he’d made Val cry.

“She has,” Tattie nodded. “So please, let’s end this, yea?”

“I’ll talk to her.” He nodded, making a break for it before he got an even longer lecture from the General’s daughter.

She was coming from the Clubmobile when he spotted her. Her red lips were stretched in a smile he hadn’t seen in days, and it almost pained him that he was about to ask if what Hambone had said was true.

“Hi,” She breathed, taking his hands and pulling him off to the side of the hut. “Are you okay?”

“If you mean the mission, then yea, I’m okay.”

“What else would I be talking about?”

“I’m a bit baffled as to why you would tell Hambone that Dougie is a cranky bastard.”

“What?” She stepped back, looking at him to see if he was joking. “I didn’t say that to Hammy.”

“Then what did you say?”

“Oh my god,” She sighed. “Hambone told me that Dougie has been cranky without Olive, and I said I agreed and that we were trying to fix it.”

“So he is cranky?”

“Well he hasn’t slept from the looks of it. I’d say that constitutes crankiness, Ev!”

“I thought we were getting to the end of this, but you’re still against Doug.”

“I’m not against Doug, I’m just not in agreement with the way he’s handling all of this.”

“Well, then I guess we’re not at the end of this are we?”

“It would appear not.” She groaned, turning around to head back to the Clubmobile. She could see Helen and Olive inside, and needed to be there instead of here.

“Val!”

“Oh my god,” She turned on her heel, staring at him as he stood there. “What?”

When he didn’t reply, she turned back, letting out a frustrated growl as she stomped back to the Clubmobile.

When she enters the Clubmobile, her face is the picture of anger, and Helen is the first to notice. “Not you too!” She protests, shaking her head in disbelief. “I thought things seemed better after today!”

“What?” Val replies, an edge to her tone that she instantly regrets when Helen winces. “Ev is taking Dougie’s side, I'm taking Olive’s and we're talking in fucking circles.”

“I'm sorry, Val,” Olive whimpers from across the truck, and Val turns to see she’s clenching her fists at her sides, her face blotchy from her latest spill of emotions, and remnants of mascara smudged under her eyes. “I'm sorry you and Ev are fighting because of me.”

“We're not fighting because of you,” She flips the page of the magazine that’s resting on the counter with such force, the counter rattles under the weight of her fist. “We're fighting because of Douglass.”

“Val…” Olive begins to protest but she’s quick to cut her off.

“Stop that, it is not your fault! You're allowed to be friends with Benny the same way I’m friends with Curt.” She snaps, flipping another page.

“Honey, take a breath…” Helen tries to get her to relax, but it’s no use. Her rage carries through the truck and out into the open air surrounding it.

“Does that make sense to you?” She yells over her shoulder. The two girls nod, wide eyed at her tone, unsure if she’s addressing them or not. “Everett?”

She shouts again, still not looking up from her magazine when Everett comes around the corner, absolutely flabbergasted at the point she had been trying to make for the last week.

“It makes sense, Val.” He sighs, looking up at her with apologetic eyes, before he turns and heads towards the Officers hut, mulling over everything she had just indirectly shouted at him. At least this time she had yelled at him in English and he had been able to understand it.

“Did he just…agree with you?” Helen looked at Val, eyes wide at how quickly she had put him in check.

“Yes Helen, he did.” Val closed the magazine, folded her hands under her bust and turned to her friend’s with a smile.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.” She shuddered, a laugh punching through at the end as she saw Olive crack a small smile.

“Now!” Val clapped her hands and turned to Olive. “Are you coming to the club tonight?”

“Yea,” Olive nodded, her smile returning. “Yea I am.”

——————————————————

They take their time getting ready that night. Val happily sits Olive down so she can pin her hair for her, and apply her makeup. It had been a rough week for them both, Olive more than Val, and she wanted her friend to relax. Nothing to worry about while in their hut other than which shade of rouge they might wear or how she was going to style her hair. Their uniforms were pressed and hanging up, ready to be slipped into, pantyhose laid out on the bed along with clean lingerie and shined shoes waiting for a spin on the dance floor.

Meatball had tried to follow them back to their hut after they closed up the Clubmobile for the night, but Benny had promptly dragged the husky back to his hut for a bath after a particularly muddy afternoon with Winks and Lemmon’s. So, the girls had turned on their staticky radio in the corner of their hut and enjoyed their early evening of primping and getting ready for a night at the club. The mood was light, and it felt like any other day; even Tattie seemed a bit brighter. Maybe they were getting to the end of this hellish week. Maybe Douglass would see reason, and Everett would be the one to walk her back and kiss her goodnight. Maybe the anger that had been swirling around base was finally dissipating.

“I’m going for a smoke,” Val announced, shrugging on her jacket and heading for the door. “You two coming?”

“Almost done,” Olive replied, peeking over her shoulder as she dug through some jewelry. “Helen and I will catch you up, Chicken.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you at the club.”

Helen waved her off absent mindedly as she applied her lip liner with laser focus, not bothering to glance up from the mirror. Pushing the door open, Val found Curt and Dickie also walking towards the club, the pair stopping to allow her a chance to catch up. Curt had his lighter out before she even reached him, the flame flickering in front of his face making him look ominous.

“There’s the gal!” Curt bellowed as she approached.

“Must you always yell?” She gave him a gentle shove before allowing him to light her cigarette.

“You know he can’t help himself.” Dickie chimed in, tossing an arm over her shoulder and steering her towards the club.

“You two behaving?” She looks between them, eyebrow raised in question.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Curt nudges her, pulling the cigarette from her for himself. “You’re out there screamin and startin fights.”

“I think today might have been the last fight.”

When Curt looks over, he’s expecting sadness, no doubt, but is surprised to see that Val looks happier, and a bit lighter than she had been.

“You two make up?”

“We’re getting there. I think I finally got my point across.”

“What is the point,” Dickie asks. “if you don’t mind me asking.”

“That if I can be with Ev and still be best friends with Curt, Olive can be friends with Benny while still being with Douglass.”

“And Blakely knows this now?” The Co-Pilot inquires, looking at her curiously.

“Like I said,” Val nods. “Got my point across.”

“That means she yelled.” Curt clarified. Stealing her cigarette back from him she shooed them both into the club.

She hadn’t been waiting long when Olive and Helen strolled up, arms linked and smiling about something. This, Val thought, was how things should be. Her friends, happy. Her boyfriend, happy. Everyone safe. She stubs out her cigarette against the wall as she greets the pair, her voice carrying across the space between them. When she hears the door open behind her, she sees Olive pale immediately as she moves to stand behind Val, clutching her hand tightly. It’s Dougie that’s exited the club, and he looks the worst of them all.

“Douglass.” Val nods to him, watching him closely.

“Valencia,” He replies, gesturing behind him as he speaks. “Ev's waiting for you inside.”

Val can feel Olive’s nerves radiating off of her, doing her best to keep her out of Douglass’s line of sight. They’re so close to being inside the club, so close to a night around their table with cocktails and laughter. She’s so focused on the next step, that she completely misses Tattie as she slides up next to them, cigarette burning in one hand, gaze focused on the group that had gathered.

“Jeez, you look lousy, Ol,” Tattie says, unaware of Val trying to shield her. “Still not sleeping?” Val doesn’t hear her reply, but a quick glance behind her and she see’s Olive shaking her head silently in response. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, the lipstick that Val had applied for her now staining her teeth.

“I'm sure Benny would give you some place to sleep,” Dougie spits. The words leaving his mouth so quickly, if Val hadn’t been paying attention she might have missed it. “If he hasn't already.”

Dougie’s face falls the second the words leave his mouth, instantly regret washing over his features as the weight of what he’s just said settles over them all like the fog that perpetually covers England. It’s thick and murky, and wading through it makes you unsure because you can’t see where you’re going, or what’s going to happen next. Olive’s face crumples, and try as she might to hide it, a sob breaks free from her throat and out into the night air.

“Dougie! Jesus Christ!” Everett shouts. The door of the club swings shut behind him, and he’s shocked at what he heard leaving his friend's mouth.

Timing was everything, it seemed. Val is on Dougie in a flash, arm pulled back and ready to swing. Something, she thinks, Curt should have done days ago. James Douglass deserved the sense beat into him as far as she was concerned, but Tattie is just as quick as she is and she’s pulling her back with all the force one would expect from General Spaatz’s daughter.

“Val, no, no!” Tattie is dragging her away as she shouts, the sound becoming almost guttural as her throat gives out.

“How dare you, James Douglass!” She roars. “Look at the fucking state of her!”

Everyone silently turns to Olive who is wrapped up in Helen’s arms, her cries muffled as Helen holds her tightly, and does her best to soothe her through all the ruckus. .

“Olive,” Dougie starts, his voice cracking as he takes a step closer to her.

“No!”

It’s Helen who shouts, surprising everyone as she puts her hand in Dougie’s face, stopping him from getting even a step closer to the girl she’s tending to.

“Not until everyone has calmed down,” She continues, speaking firmly, both Tattie and Val looking on in surprise as mild mannered, sweet, Helen is the one to put her foot down. “You especially, Douglass.”

He nods quietly, hands behind his back as he watches Tattie lead Val into the club, the green eyed Italian practically snarling at him on the way past. She’s not paying attention to whether or not Everett is following behind, her focus entirely on Tattie’s grip on her arm, the noise of the club as she walks through the doors, and the smell of cigarette smoke as Tattie lights them each one.

“I’m starting to wonder what would have happened if I had left the hut five minutes later.” Tattie exhaled, smoke swirling around her, making her look almost ethereal.

“You’d be explaining to Harding why Doc Stover was sewing James Douglass back together like Raggedy Anne.”

“Jeez, he really put his foot in it didn’t he.”

Val was about to reply when the door swung open, Helen and Everett entering together, both looking like they needed more than just a drink, but also like they had accomplished something.

Helen motioned for Tattie to join her, the two linking arms and heading further into the club to secure a table and some drinks, while Val and Everett stood staring at each other in the doorway like two awkward teenagers.

“Where’s Olive and Dougie?” She asked, back pressed against the wall, unmoving.

“I did what you suggested last week,” Everett shrugged. “Locked them in a room to sort it out.”

“Everett!”

“No,” He chuckled. “They’re in the mess hall, talking.”

“Are they okay unsupervised like that?”

“They’re fine. I think they’re both too tired to keep fighting.”

“And what about you? Are you too tired to keep fighting?”

“Sweetheart,” He took the three steps separating them, his hands taking hers and pulling her away from the wall and into his arms. “I’ve been exhausted since it started.”

“Me too.”

His arms came around her, pulling her flush against his body. Holding each other in the quiet of the entryway, Val could feel all of her anger dissipate. She had been a pot of hot, boiling water, all week. Bubbling with anger and fear, and now, the steam was floating off the top of the pot and taking everything with it.

“I should have listened to you.” Everett murmured, face nuzzled into her hair as he held her.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” She whispered, pressing herself closer, her hands gripping fistfuls of his jacket.

“You yelled at me in Italian,” He chuckled. “Curt said that means you’re really mad.”

“It sort of just happens.” She shrugged, pulling back so she could see his face.

“He wouldn’t tell me what you said.”

“I called you stubborn.” She winced.

“I deserve that. I was really stubborn.”

Everett’s hands slid around to cup the back of her neck, thumbs brushing the underside of her jaw as they stood there. The first fight, over. All that was left was to make up- truly make up.

“I’m sorry,” Val sighed, feeling Everett’s lips brush over hers like a whisper. “I’m so sorry…”

“Shh, It’s okay, it’s over, sweetheart.”

“I thought I ruined it...”

“You didn’t ruin a damn thing,” He shook his head, leaning down to press his lips fully to hers. “Not a damn thing.”

Val pulled him back down to her instantly, her lips molding to his, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket to pull him closer. She wanted to be as close as she could after not having him near all week, as close as was not considered indecent as they stood in the entrance to the Officers Club where anyone could happen upon them. When Everett pulled away for air, she chased him on a gasp, her breathing ragged, begging for him to come closer again.

“I’m sorry, too.” He sucked in a breath, pressing his forehead to hers.

“This was a miserable week,” She groaned. “I hated every second of it.”

“Can only imagine how Olive and Doug felt.”

“Speaking of,” Val shook her head. “We should really check on them.”

Nodding, Everett reluctantly pulled away from her, taking her hand and leading her further into the club to seek out their friends. When they reached the table, they found Helen and Tattie with Benny, Curt and Dickie. Meatball was currently biting at Gale Cleven’s heels across the room. No Olive or Douglass to be found.

“Look who it is!” Curt exclaimed, slamming his beer down and causing it to slosh all over his arm and the table.

“Jesus Curt, you’re a mess.” Tattie shook her head.

“Forget it,” Curt shook his arm out behind him, spraying beer all over the back of an unsuspecting Crank. “Yous two kiss and make up?”

“Yea,” Val grinned. “We did.”

“Finally!” Helen clapped her hands together in excitement. “Where’s Olive and Doug?”

“They’re not here?”

“No…”

“They’re still talking?” Val’s eyes went wide, suddenly worried that Ev had sent them on their way, alone.

“I guess? You think we should check on them?”

“For my own sanity, yes Helen, we should.”

When the whole table stood to follow Val and Helen out of the club, neither could really say they blamed any one of them. Every one of them had been involved either directly, or indirectly, and wanted to see what would become of Olive and Douglass. So they headed back out into the night air, Val tugging Everett along with her while Helen and Tattie were right at her side.

“God I hope they haven’t killed each other.” Tattie sighed just as they rounded the corner to the mess hall. The girls try to peer through the small windows in the door, but the lights are off in the mess hall and they can’t see anything in front of them. The boys, all hanging back, are watching to see what the girls might do next.

“I can’t see a thing!”

“Shh!”

“It’s too dark!”

“Why don't yous three just go inside?”

“Because, Curt,” Val turned and fixed him with a look. “We can’t go in there if they’re still in there.”

“Where else would they be?”

“I don’t know,” She sighed. “There’s dozens of places they could have run off to.”

“Why don’t you look through the windows on the side?” Benny offered, gesturing around to the side of the building. Val’s eyes lit up as she pulled Helen and Tattie around the side with her, stopping short when she realizes that they can’t see in the windows. They’re all too short.

“Everett!” She calls, her head coming around the corner to look for him. “I can’t see!”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Give me a boost?” She’s batting her lashes and looking at him like she’ll give him the whole world if he helps her. And he knows that even if she promised him nothing, he can never deny her anything.

“Come on,” He quickly shrugs off his jacket, passing it over to Curt so he can join the girls. “Benny, Dickie, come give the other two a lift would ya?”

“What about me?” Curt groans, now holding all of the jackets.

“I’m not lifting you up, Biddick.” Everett looks at him in mock disgust, hands gripping Val’s waist as he prepares to hoist her up onto his shoulder.

“Okay honey, just like when I gave you a boost into the fort, yea?”

“Got it.” She nodded, waiting for him to count to three. She’s on his shoulders faster than she can blink. Leaning against the window, Val uses her hands to brace herself so she can see inside. Helen is next to her, one hand on Val’s shoulder for support while the other is pressed against the side of the building.

“Oh my god!” Val exclaims, her excitement causing her to lose her balance and almost slip from Everett’s shoulder.

“What! Someone tell me what’s goin on up there!” Curt hollers from the ground.

“Benny, move a little closer…” Tattie is trying hard to see inside, her hands over her eyes like binoculars to block out the glare against the window. Below her, Benny lets out a swear in Italian that has Val cackling. “Wow!”

“He’s kissing the daylights out of her!” Helen calls down to the boys, a smile on her face.

In her excitement, Val begins banging on the glass, Helen joining in with her as their laughter turns into uncontrollable giggles.

“Well, they saw us…” Tattie grins, tapping Benny to set her down on the ground before she topples over. Val and Helen are close to falling, but Everett and Dickie have them both on the ground before they risk hurting themselves.

“I don’t think they’re coming out,” Val is beaming as she throws her arms around Helen and Tattie, her happiness contagious. “Good for them.”

“Come on ladies,” Helen gestures towards the direction of the club. “Let’s leave them to it.”

As they turn to head back, Everett pulls Val under his arm, tucking her against his side as they walk. He’s smiling as he plucks the Lucky Strike from behind his ear and lights it, handing it off to her for the first pull. Her red nails glow as the ember reflects off them, her smile threatening to split her face in two as she hands it back to him.

“Is all right in the world now, sweetheart?”

“For now…”

“Only for now?” He questions, stopping just outside the door to the club.

“When this war is over, then my world will be right again.”

It was the kind of night that seemed to go on forever. No one wanted to go to bed when the club had emptied out, all of them high on adrenaline and making up for lost time they had walked from the club to the hardstands. Laughing and sharing cigarettes, the girls giggling a little extra as the alcohol pulsed through their veins, the boys all watching with smiles on their faces and glimmers in their eyes. They had argued over whose fort to hang out in front of; Ev and Douglass lobbying for Just - A - Snappin while Benny tried to steer them towards Our Baby. Curt and Dickie didn’t care whose fort they set up camp in front of, because according to Curt it was getting increasingly difficult to not polish off the bottle he had swiped from behind the bar upon exit. And so, they picked a spot in the grass between the two Flying Fortresses, Meatball stretched out next to Benny, and continued to just be together. A motley crew if Val had ever seen one, but they were her’s. They had stayed there until the sun began peeking over the horizon, when Thorpe Abbotts was bathed in the soft orange glow of morning. Only then did they leave.

Helen was dozing on Dickie’s shoulder, his jacket tossed over her shoulders, and Tattie had gotten cozy between Benny and Meatball, the Husky laying over her legs for a little extra warmth. Olive was tucked under Dougie’s shoulder, and Val was laying with her head in Everett’s lap, his fingers combing through her curls as she relaxed for the first time in days. Curt had his head in her lap, awake but silent, and Val couldn't remember the last time her friend had been so calm.

“Hey,” Olive mumbled sleepily, her foot nudging Val’s. “I know I said it a lot this week but, thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For having my back,” She signed, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “For reminding me what it’s like to have true friends.”

“Olive, I will always have your back, you hear me?”

“Yea,” She signed contentedly, snuggling further into Dougie’s chest. “Yea I hear ya.”

Nothing else needed to be said between them, she realized. All it took was a simple thank you and a reminder that she wasn’t alone, for Val to realize that Olive had finally put it all behind her. Douglass had pulled her aside earlier when he and Olive finally returned to the club, and before anything was said between them, he had hugged her. His apologies were profuse, and Val had to stop him before he started rambling; he had smoked two cigarettes in the time it took her to get him to understand that he was forgiven, and that it would take something much bigger than that to ruin the friendship they were building. She was beginning to think of him as her second Curt- brash and a bit off the walls, but a good heart. All of them had good hearts. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out, and she counted herself lucky in being able to share in that. With a content smile, she snuggled deeper into Everett’s lap, holding on tight to the hand that wasn’t playing with her hair.

“Hey, Doug,” Ev spoke lowly, not wanting to disturb the peace around them. “Should we get these girls back to the hut so they can sleep?”

“Nah,” Doug replied, smiling. “Might not get a chance at such a clear sunrise again for a while.”

“You’re right pal. Besides, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful before.”

“I couldn’t agree more. It sure is beautiful.”

“Bellissima…” Val whispered in quiet agreement.

Everything was Bellissima.

Part Six

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @rosiesriveter @bobparkhurst @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @precious-little-scoundrel @manonsmanicmind @prettyinlimegreenboots

#eight to the bar #eight to the bar: ev & val #oc: valencia dirosano #everett blakely #masters of the air #Ev & Val #mota fanfic #everett blakely x ofc #everett blakely x oc #oc: olive lewis #james douglass #benny demarco #curtis biddick #just a snappin #hbo war #gina baker writes

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blakelysco-pilot · 2 months ago

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Valencia is about to learn first hand that not everything is as it seems. Especially when the horrors of the war takes from her for the first time. Who will be there to pick her up, and carry her through, and will friendship be enough?

Every Time We Say Goodbye; Part 7 of Eight to the Bar, coming soon.

Tag List: @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @precious-little-scoundrel @beingalive1 @ptvstvrrr

#eight to the bar #oc: valencia dirosano #Ev & Val #everett blakely #eight to the bar: Blakely & Val #masters of the air #mota fanfic #coming soon #everett blakely x oc #masters of the air x oc #Gina baker writes

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blakelysco-pilot · 3 months ago

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Eight to The Bar: a story of finding love between coffee and donuts during World War II

Featuring Gene Tierney as Valencia DiRosano

Meet Val DiRosano (officially). She’ll be returning to The Clubmobile in the coming weeks to serve up fresh coffee and donuts, while navigating the hardest part of the war she’s experienced so far. The next chapter of Eight to The Bar coming soon!

#coming soon #eight to the bar #oc: valencia dirosano #eight to the bar: Blakely & Val #everett blakely #Ev & Val #gene tierney #masters of the air x oc #Everett Blakely x oc #Gina baker writes

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blakelysco-pilot · 7 months ago

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The Wee Small Hours of The Morning

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Four

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

Is God so cruel as to take away the only family someone has? War is rough on everyone involved, even the ones who remain on the ground while the boys go up. Sometimes it takes more than a good luck kiss, and the skill of an excellent pilot. It takes old traditions, a few prayers and friends looking out for you. Santa Maria, Pray for Us.

Part Three

Follow along with the Eight to The Bar Playlist

A/N: This chapter contains 18+ themes & situations. Minors DNI.

That damn red mission light was a constant reminder of the war that was currently raging on outside the walls of Thorpe Abbotts. That stolen moments and solace sought in the shelter of the Officers Club, in the arms of someone who you adored, were small luxuries. You couldn’t count on them always being there, so you took advantage while you could. So long as the war raged on in the skies, Val understood this, much as it pained her. Watching Everett go off with Douglass and Benny, knowing it was only a matter of hours before she’d wave him off from the safety of the Clubmobile; she’d watch from a distance as his flying fortress took off into the sky, breath caught in her throat.

Lighting a cigarette, Val resolves to find a moment's peace before she has to make her way to bed. The few hours of sleep before her day would begin beckons her, but she knows it’ll be a restless sleep if she doesn’t take the time to clear her head, and find peace before Everett is in the air. The door of the club opens, and she see’s Olive come around the corner to take the place that Everett had previously occupied, patting her pockets looking for her cigarettes, but coming up short.

“There you are,” Olive turns to her. “When the light went on I was looking for you but didn't see you in the club.”

“Ev and I took a walk… You ready for bed, doll?” Val asks, handing her the cigarette she’s currently smoking.

“Not yet, Val,” Olive sighs, taking a puff. “Tonight was kind of overwhelming. Need to take a walk.”

“Sure thing, Ol,” Val nods, understanding the need to clear her head more than anymore. “See you in there, okay? Be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” She nods, giving Val a brief hug and kissing her gently on the cheek. Olive passes the cigarette back to her before asking her what has become the question of the evening, as far as Val is concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She says, taking one last drag before stubbing out the cigarette against the wall of the club. “I had a good talk with Ev and I feel much better.”

She crosses her arms in order to shield herself from the cold British air, still not quite used to it. It bites a lot more than a Brooklyn breeze. She had told her friend the night prior. Bites you right on the ass, and for what.

“This isn’t going to get easier, is it?” Olive asks, looking out into the night sky. “The worrying, the constant knot in my stomach every time I see that damn red light.”

“No, it doesn’t,” She says pointedly, brow furrowing as she thought back to moments prior when Everett had been pulled away from her. “But then you see him again and the relief, God, there’s nothing like it. Someone should bottle that feeling and sell it. They’d be a millionaire, Olive.”

“I didn’t plan on feeling like this…for anyone. Here or my–” Val looks at her, urging her to continue, but when she doesn’t, she knows then that Olive is thinking about Benny and Douglass.

“That’s what this war has done, doll. Mess up all our plans.” She pushes her body back from the wall and starts to walk towards their hut, looking back over her shoulder at her friend. “That’s a story for another night, though. Are you still taking that walk?”

Olive nods, and Val gives her a smile. Beginning her walk back, she suddenly turns back to Olive who’s still standing in the same place.

“I’ll leave water on your side table,” She gives her a wink. “Prevent the hangover.”

“Thanks Val, “ Olive smiles, but suddenly remembers that she had left Helen inside when she ventured out, Tattie already back at their hut. “Wait, where’s Helen?”

“Curt offered to walk her back.” She says with a roll of her eyes.

“Oop!” Olive giggles. “Is Curt suddenly keen on our girl?”

“Curt is keen on everyone,” Val shakes her head knowingly. “But Helen’s not keen on him like that. She’s a smart cookie, and far too sweet for that pain in the ass.”

“She’d also never live it down if she got the clap from him.”

“Olive, I’d kill him if he even tried it with Helen.” Val grinned, turning back in the direction of the hut and finally making her way to bed.

Still restless even after she had changed, and gotten into bed, Val couldn’t quite keep her mind from wandering. Switching on the small light above her bed, she quietly opened the drawer of her side table, and pulled out her sewing kit. Rifling through the bag for her red spool of thread and scissors, she began pulling until she had three pieces. Her hands moved effortlessly, a task she had been doing since she was a child. Tying off one end, she held the top firmly before braiding down the length of the thread. Right over the middle, left over the middle, and repeat. Fingers moving deftly, she repeated this entire process two more times until she had three braids, all tied off neatly at the end. A tail of string left on each to be tied to the top end. If her mother could see her, she’d scold her for not sleeping, for letting her mind get the better of her in such times when all she could do was pray. She’d argue that idle hands were the devils playground even at night.

Eyes finally beginning to droop, she stashed the spool of thread and scissors, turned the light off, and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of hazel eyes and the future. One day, maybe they’d get to live in the luxury of waking up together without the threat of war hanging over their heads. Dreams of Everett and home, wherever they might choose, and dinners shared over a kitchen table instead of a mess hall. She had been so deep in her dream that she hadn’t heard the door open or Olive creep into the hut.

It was all hurry up and rush when morning rolled around. The four women scattered around their nissen hut in various states of undress as they all worked to get ready and head to the Clubmobile. They were always up a bit before the boys, needing to get the donuts warm, coffee perking and other sundries set up on the truck. With the mission light going off the night prior, she could only imagine what state the boys would be trudging up to the truck in. She doesn't think many of them slept through the night, if her own restlessness was anything to go on. Helen and Tattie had woken up as bleary eyed as she had, and Olive had fallen asleep in her clothes, the poor thing.

Stacking the candy bars while Helen sorted the cups, she heard a familiar bark carry across the tannoy, and couldn’t help but smirk. Casting a glance over at Olive, she sees her filling one of the carafes with fresh coffee, idly chatting with Tattie about their switching dance partners the night before.

“Ol!” She called out with a smile, watching as Meatball pulled his owner towards the Clubmobile like he was on a mission. “Benny…”

Benny offered her a wave and a smile as he waited for Olive, which Val kindly returned. Benny was a good guy, a fellow Italian, and as far as she was concerned, that made him aces in her book.

“Ciao Benny!” Val grinned, loving any excuse to stretch her legs by speaking Italian. “And Meatball!”

“Ciao,” The pilot chuckled, crouching to scratch behind the dog's ears. “Meatball, say good morning to Val. Go on, say Ciao Valencia!”

Meatball only offered a bark to the woman in the window of the truck, which was good enough for all parties concerned. Checking to see if anyone was looking, she reached under the counter and pulled out a donut she had stashed, signaling to Meatball and tossing it down to him. Laughing as he caught it in his mouth, she saw Olive come around to the front of the truck, a smile on her face as she greeted her suitor and his dog in that friendly way she greeted everyone.

Of course Meatball would remain with them while the boys went up today. It was becoming a common occurrence that he’d start out with the Red Cross girls, before being run over to Kenny and Winks on the hardstand for a little exercise while the girls cleaned up and got the interrogation hut ready for the boys return. She’d just barely heard Benny try to coax an early cup of coffee out of Olive when a soft knock sounded on the open door of the truck. She half expected to see Chick, or someone who she’d actually have to give the early coffee to, but instead there was Ev and Dougie, one with a shit eating grin on his face and the other smiling softly at her. She made a move to greet them when Douglass lifted his finger to his lips, jerking his head in the direction of Olive, mischief bright in his already bright blue eyes.

“You’re fresh!” Val had whispered to him once she was close enough.

Everett could only shake his head at his friend’s antics and watch as Dougie waited with bated breath for Olive to turn back to the truck and make her way inside.

“Good boy, Meatball.” Olive spoke sweetly to the dog, and Val could hear the lead clanging against the pole outside the truck as Olive tied him securely.

Dougie grinned, and turned on his heel just as Olive rounded the corner, his hands jutting out and tickling her as her eyes went wide and she jumped in shock.

“James Douglass!”

Dougie was apologizing profusely, that mischievous smile still gracing his face, as Everett took the three short steps up into the truck.

“Morning, pretty girl.” He wasted no time in pulling her close for a kiss, despite Helen’s protests that they take it elsewhere as she shuffled past them and outside.

“Hmm, now it is.” She grinned, dropping her forehead against his chest, arms wrapped around him.

“You alright?”

“Still sleepy, that’s all.” She mumbled, face pressed against his chest.

“Honey, did you sleep at all last night?”

“A little,” She sighed. “When I did fall asleep, it was a bit restless.”

She could feel him heave a deep sigh as his hands rubbed up and down her back,

“Maybe tonight we just lay low, hmm? We can go out to the fort and sit on the wing if you want…”

“Can we sneak a cocktail out like last time?” She peered up at him, eyes wide and red lips stretched into a smile he could never say no to.

“Sure, if that’s what you want, I’ll make it happen.”

“Make Kenny leave the stairs out this time.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He winked.

Leaning back out of the truck, he saw that Dougie and Olive were still occupied, Meatball looking on dutifully.

“Oh, I’ve got something for you!” Val stepped back, reaching into her pocket.

She pulled out one of the braids she had made the night before, grinning as she held it up for him.

“What’s that?” Ev looked at her curiously as she took his left hand in hers.

“In Italian culture, red is a sign of protection. I couldn’t sleep last night and so, braided a few of these for you boys.”

“Protection?”

“The color red keeps bad things at bay,” She spoke softly, tying the braid around his left wrist, right behind his watch. “My Nonna taught me how to braid these when I was little, and it’s always been something I do when I can’t settle down. I want you to be protected up there, Everett.”

“Thank you,” He grinned, taking her face in his hands and kissing her lips sweetly. “It’s better than any good luck charm I’ve got.”

“Don’t take it off. When it breaks on its own, that means it’s time for a new one. Okay?”

“You’re the boss, baby,” He grinned. “You said you made them for the boys?”

“One for Dougie and another one for Curt.”

“He goes through them a lot then?”

“Well, he is Curt.”

Dougie’s head came around the back of the truck before Everett could reply, spying his friends deep in conversation, he felt bad for disturbing them.

“Ev, we gotta go. Briefing starts soon.”

“Alright.” He nodded, squeezing Val once more before stepping back. “Dougie, c’mere.”

Eyebrows raised at his friend’s request, the bombardier came to stand at the entrance of the truck, as Val met him at the bottom of the steps.

“Left hand, please.” She smiled, pulling the second braid from her pocket and securing it the same way she had with Everett’s.

“What’s this?” He looked down at her, brows knit together in intrigue.

“Ev will explain, okay?”

“Ten four, Ma’am.” He nodded, giving her that sloppy two finger salute he was famous for.

“Get out of here, Doug. Coffee will be waiting when you boys are done.”

Nodding, Dougie let the thumb of his opposite hand ghost over the thread a moment before grinning and heading back in the direction of where Olive was now talking to Helen.

Everett grinned, before giving her a not so subtle wink, and followed Doug to the briefing room.

It wasn’t long before Meatball had started getting antsy, tugging on his lead as if he knew that Benny was in the hut across the way. The lead rattling against the pole Olive had him tied to every ten seconds as he tries to make a valiant attempt at a jail break.

“Come on, fella,” Olive laughs, taking mercy on the poor dog and untying him. “Want to throw the ball?”

The coveted four letter word starting with B piques his interest immediately as he begins to pant excitedly, jumping back onto his hind legs. His excitement only grows when he sees Olive pull the ball from her pocket. She tosses it gently, keeping it close to the Clubmobile so that Meatball doesn’t run off.

“Why don’t you go over to the hardstand?” Val calls from the hatch of the truck, waiting while a fresh pot of coffee brews for the boys.

“I don’t want to have to traipse all the way over there just to have to come back in ten minutes,” Olive calls back to her. “I want to see them before they go.”

“Anyone in particular you want to see” Val teases as she rounds the front of the truck, joining Olive and Meatball in their little game.

“Hush it up, DiRosano.” Olive winks at her. Handing her the ball so that she can join in, Meatball comes to stand in front of Val, his front paws suddenly up on her chest as he tries to get the ball from her.

“At least he’s behaving today,” Val rolls her eyes as Meatball finally jumps down from where he’d tried to take her down. She throws the ball for him, putting a little more effort behind it than she had meant to, causing the ball to miss the ground completely and fly through the door of the briefing room. Meatball is after it like a shot out of a cannon, not listening as she pleads with him to stop. Tattie was right, she was going to kill DeMarco.

“Shit!” Val says, trying not to panic as the reality of what just happened sinks in. “Damn dog!”

“Fuck sake, Spud Chandler!” Olive sighs, hand clapping over her eyes as she races after Meatball and Val races after her.

They come to a halt just outside the door, Val slamming into Olive’s back as she comes to a vault, spotting Meatball right outside the door, sitting and waiting patiently for his next command.

“Stay right there, buddy,” Olive pleads, hands up and walking towards him.

His response is to sniff the air, and as if he could smell Benny inside the room with all the other men and their cigarette smoke, he bounds through the door with what she could only describe as the greatest of ease.

“Meatball!” Olive whispers, her voice low and stern as she moves to follow him into the briefing room.

“Olive, for fuck sake!. Don’t go in there!” “But the dog! And the ball!” Olive tries to argue, knowing Chick would have a stroke if Meatball so much as disturbed their briefing.

Val can’t help but sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as her brows furrow in defeat, mumbling something under her breath in Italian. The ball and the dog were both in there, and if they didn’t hurry, an angry Chick Harding would also be in there.

“We should be alright. It’s nothing I won’t tell you in a few weeks when I type up the report for this,” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Olive or herself. “We get the dog, apologize, and get the hell out of there, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Olive gives her exactly the same two finger salute that James Douglass is famous for, and she can’t help but roll her eyes. Birds of a fucking feather it seemed.

“Good. Now show me your prettiest smile.” She looks at Olive, hands on her hips, waiting for her to give a smile. When she finally does, Val thinks maybe they have a shot at this.

“Gorgeous, doll!”

“What’s it for?” Olive asks, relaxing her face and massaging her cheeks for a second.

“Oh, that’s for when Chicky catches us in there and ultimately tells us off.”

—————————————————

“U-Boat pens in Trondheim, Norway!” Chick hollers, standing upon the makeshift stage as the curtain is pulled back to reveal a map. The men in the room cheer in equal enthusiasm, lighting cigarettes and eagerly awaiting the details of the mission ahead of them.

Val and Olive stand in the back of the room, Meatball now in their grasp, they make to turn and leave just as quickly as they came, when Chick announces the details of the mission, and the fort in charge of leading the wing.

“Major Egan will be Command Pilot in Blakely’s fort.” He announces, and as John Egan turns back to make eye contact with Everett, he does a double take at the two figures standing in the back of the room. Val quickly shakes her head, begging him not to say anything, and she’s relieved to see him turn back around and give his attention to the map in front of him. Still, she can’t help but beam with pride, whispering a little that’s my guy as she realizes Everett is in charge of leading all of the men in the room into today’s battle. Just as she moves to grab Meatball’s collar and lead him from the room, the dog lets loose a bark that she’s sure Doc Stover could hear in the medical hut, and she immediately winces.

Silence falls over the room, and Chick, who had been lighting his first cigar of the day, turned to look up, eyes narrowing in annoyance.

“What in the hell is that dog doin’ in here?” His eyes find Benny DeMarco first, and upon realizing that Benny is not in possession of said dog, focuses his gaze on the back of the room.

“Shit,” Olive and Val murmur in unison. “Might need that smile sooner than we thought, doll.”

“Fuck sake, Valencia,” Olive groans, shaking her head.

“Don’t blame me!” She nervously chuckles. “Blame that damn dog.”

“Oh, I am, believe me.” Olive sighs just as Chick walks up to the pair of them.

“Girls!” Chick scolds. “You shouldn’t be in here.” “We’re sorry, Colonel,” Olive says, putting her nice British manners to good use. “The dog…”

“I don’t care,” He says, his voice slightly raised and causing the crowd to look in their direction. Val just manages to catch Curt and Everett looking in their direction. “Get outta here.”

“Yes sir.” Olive replies shakily.

Val can immediately sense the tension rolling off of her as her eyes glaze over. She gives Olive’s hand a quick squeeze before squaring her shoulders and facing Chick head on.

“Chicky,” Val speaks firmly, her tone not one to be mistaken for a damsel in distress. “I threw the ball too hard, it’s my fault Meatball ran in here. You know we wouldn’t have come just for fun.” She’s trying her best to be firm, but also butter him up at the same time. Tucking an errant curl back into her headscarf, Val gives what can only be described as a brilliant smile, and if Olive’s snort disguised as a cough is anything to go on, she’s doing a damn good job of it.

“Alright, girls,” He softens, pointing his cigar in their direction as Red carries on with the briefing, the Massachusetts native describing something being shown on the projector in an attempt to get the men to stop focusing on the girls and back on the mission. “I’ll let y’all off, but don’t let me catch you in here again.”

“You got it, Chicky.” Val grins, giving his shoulder a friendly pat.

“And stop calling me Chicky.” He groans, turning back towards where he had been originally so he could join Red. “Not a chance!” Val calls back, tugging both Olive and Meatball with her out the door, grateful to have avoided what could have been real trouble for the pair of them, and the damn dog.

Val’s pouring a cup of coffee when she hears her name being called. Looking up, she spots Everett looking less than pleased, hands on his hips and brows pinched together as if he’d taken a page out of her book. Mentally filing away how handsome he looks in that moment, she gives him her full attention.

“Val, you got a second?”

“Yes, honey,” The words saccharine sweet as she moves past Olive. With a roll of her eyes, she turns before descending the steps. “I’m in trouble.”

“You look far too excited at that prospect, Val.” Olive shakes her head, knowing her friend.

“You never know what the consequences might be.” She winks as she reaches the bottom step.

“What was all that about?” Everett looks down at her, hands still on his hips.

“You mean back there?”

“Valencia, please…” He sighed, and at his use of her full name, her eyes snapped up to his, blazing.

“Are you mad at me?” The question came out sharp, her eyebrows meeting her hairline. “For that?!”

“I’m not mad,” He softened his gaze, waiting for her to do the same. “I just…”

“Everett…”

“I just want to shield you from as much as possible. Protect you, the way you want to protect me.”

“Sweetheart, I’ll see all of that in a few days when Harding pulls me in to type it up for him.”

“I know that, but, if you can go a few more days without seeing it.”

“Baby, I’m going to worry whether I know where it is you’re going or not. Nothing will change that until this war is over.”

“Just, don’t go sneaking into the briefing room again, okay?”

“That’s on you then, if Meatball gets in and Harding goes nuts.”

“No, that’s on Benny,” Everett winked, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her flush against his side. “Now, how about a cup of coffee and a good luck kiss.”

“In that order, Captain?” She peered up at him.

“Please.” Leaning down, he stole a kiss from her, just as Dougie and Olive were making their way to the truck.

They couldn’t wait around, the girls had poured their coffee quickly, and just as Val handed Everett’s cup off to him, Bubbles had come up to the truck wrapped in a blanket, his flight gear underneath, and shivering up a storm.

“Bubbles?” Helen looked at him, nudging Val to join her at the window.

“Holy shit, Bubbles, you can’t fly!” Val exclaimed, getting the attention of both Everett and Douglass.

“I can, Miss. Val, don’t you worry.” His teeth chattering together as he spoke, skin turning paler as the seconds passed.

“Bubbles, not for nothing but I’m tired of being told not to worry.”

“Bubbles, she’s right, you’re not going up,” Everett came to stand next to him, his face displaying sympathy for his sick navigator but worried over who would be in the seat if he wasn’t. “Fuck…”

Just then, John Egan came strolling over for his pre-flight coffee and, if Val had to guess, a pack of cigarettes or gum. She gestured to Helen to get his coffee ready while she dug around under the window for a pack of Lucky Strikes and some Juicy Fruit.

“Bucky.” She grinned, the cigarettes in one hand and gum in the other, and extended them to him.

“Your girl’s a peach, Blakely, you know that?” Bucky chuckled, taking both of the offered items before pocketing them so he could retrieve his coffee from Helen.

“She sure is,” Everett smiled, before turning to face John Egan with concern. “We’ve got a problem, though, Major.”

“What?”

“Bubbles,” Everett gestured to the shivering navigator who Douglass was practically keeping upright at this point. “Sick as a dog.”

“I can fly…”

“The hell you can,” Bucky sighed, looking back at Everett. “Who else we got?”

In the end, it had been Harry Crosby to replace Bubbles in Just-A Snappin’s navigator seat. The brown eyed man’s nerves caused him to shiver just as badly as Bubbles had before he was carted off to Doc Stover in the med hut. After the boys had dispersed from the truck, Val had found a brief moment to breathe before Curt was bounding over to her, crush cap at a jaunty angle, grin on his face.

“The last thing you need is caffeine!” She had scolded him, handing the coffee over anyway.

“Need to see my best pal!”

“Don’t let Dickie hear you say that.” She shook her head, knowing Dickie could most definitely hear him from where he stood getting his coffee from Helen.

“I know where I rank, Val, don’t you worry. You’re still his number one.” Dickie laughed, thanking Helen for the coffee before walking past and heading for the truck.

“Lucky me,” She rolled her eyes. “Hey, hold on Curt.”

“Yea?”

“Here…” She handed over the braid identical to the ones she had given Ev and Dougie earlier, watching as his grin nearly split his face.

“Rough night,” He mused. “How’d you know?”

“I know you Curt. Now go on, be safe up there, please.”

“See you in a jiff, Pal.” He waved, jogging to catch up with Dickie and the rest of his crew. She could just make out Curt asking Dickie to tie the red string around his wrist as the truck peeled away with him and his crew in the back. Santa Maria please protect my boys.

——————————————

It had been a morning. Olive had decided, with all the excitement of the morning, to take Meatball down to the hardstand so that he could run around with Kenny and Winks. She had snagged two of the leftover donuts for the ground crew boys and headed off, leaving Val, and Helen to clean up the truck. Tattie was with the Supply Officer trying to figure out what they could and couldn’t get, and leave the girls’ list with him in the hopes that they’d get what they needed.

Helen was packing up the donuts that had been left, and was brewing a fresh pot of coffee just for the girls, one for the boys already brewed and in the Interrogation Hut, when Val had decided to start wiping down the counters and putting away some of the sundries. A cigarette wedged between her teeth, she began scrubbing the countertop, wiping away the spilled sugar and milk, pushing the crushed and empty cups into the trash, and repeating the process all over again. Still uneasy from the night before, her mind going over and over the conversation she had with Everett outside the club. She kept going back to him saying we can be scared together, and she truly believed him. She was scared on the ground, and he was without a doubt, scared more than her up in the sky.

She hadn’t heard Olive come back, or her footsteps as she climbed back into the truck. She just barely heard her calling her name.

“Valencia,” Olive urges for a third time, a plume of smoke escaping her mouth as she speaks. “You’ve already done that one.”

“R-right.” She stutters, wiping her wet hands on her jumpsuit. She watches as Olive stubs out her own cigarette and starts carrying the donuts Helen had been organizing into the interrogation room. Val immediately darts toward her to grab them.

“I got it, Val,” She soothes, holding the tray to her body. “Just get the door for me.”

“Got it!” She replies, voice a couple of octaves higher than what she normally sounds like.

“You okay, chicken?” Olive turns to her after she’s placed the tray on the table.

“Yeah. Just anxious.” Val takes a long pull from her cigarette, surprised it hasn’t burned out yet, before slumping back against the wall. The waiting was the worst.

“I know, but they'll be okay. They're going to be back before you know it.” Olive tries to reassure her as best she can, but Val can see the fear behind her eyes, and knows for a moment that she’s not alone.

Tattie wandered in on the heels of their chat, eyes falling on the table set with the donuts for the boys, and smiling at the work her girls had done.

“Thanks, Ol,” She says, patting her on the shoulder before turning to Val. “Val, can you set out the whiskey?”

“Sure, I'm on it!” She replies, the words rushing out of her mouth, her body tight with the same anxiety they all see in Harry Crosby.

“Need a hand?” Helen strolls in, setting cream and sugar next to the coffee she had put out earlier.

“I've got it, thanks Helen.” Val grins at her, picking up a glass to wipe down.

When the familiar, loud rumble is heard in the distance, Val watches as Olive steps outside momentarily, before hearing Smokey shout over the noise.

“I see em!” He yells, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Val, they're back!” Olive calls to her, poking her head in from the doorway.

Val stops suddenly, the glass slipping from her hands and shattering into pieces on the floor.

“Oh fuck!” She groans. She bends down to begin picking up the shards, when Olive is suddenly at her side, swatting her hand away from the broken glass.

“Leave it,” She says softly. “I'll clean it.” Taking the cloth from Val’s hand, she grips her arm for a moment, the two sharing a look.

“Go,” She murmurs. “Go see him.”

She feels as if her whole chest might cave in if she waits any longer to see Everett and Curt.

“Helen, go with her, please,” Olive motions for her to join Val, before speaking the next part softly, only for Helen to hear. “Just in case.”

“What about you?” Helen raises an eyebrow at her knowingly.

“I'm just fine here.” She reassures her, but both Val and Helen can see that her eyes are telling a different story. Helen nods, threading her arm through Val’s before grinning at Olive, making her way to the door.

“We'll be right back.”

Once outside, Val begins to count the number of planes she sees coming into view. The rumble grows louder the closer they get to the runway, she watches as one, two, three… her grip on Helen’s hand tightening as she sees the rest of them approach. Eight, nine, ten…

“He’ll be here, honey, don’t you worry.” Helen turns to her, her big brown eyes full of hope, and Val can’t help but smile.

“Not sure what I’d do without you,” Val sighs, gaze now focused on where the trucks are approaching. “Without any of you.”

“Oh stop, we’ve all got each other.”

The first truck rolled to a stop at the bottom of the approach to the hut, and Val had to squint in the sun to see who it was. It was Gale Cleven and Benny, the pair looking utterly exhausted as they trudged towards the hut. Benny offered the girls a wave and a half smile, Val nodding her head towards the door.

“She’s inside…”

“Thanks Val.”

Benny disappeared through the door, and Val watched as the next group of men headed their way, all looking much the same as Buck and DeMarco. Crank, John Brady and their respective crews were next, all shuffling into the hut for a moment of respite. Doc Stover was at the door giving each man the once over before allowing them through, and Val could just make out the sound of someone grumbling at being told to report to the hospital after interrogation.

“Where are they…” She murmured under her breath. “Come on boys, please.”

“Hey, hey, look…” Helen was pointing out towards the approach, a smile on her face as she Val clocked Everett jump from the truck, hat in his hand, hair mused and curls falling over his forehead. That damn Lucky Strike tucked behind his ear.

“Oh thank god!” Val heaved a sigh at the sight of him, body relaxing for only a moment.

As Everett approached, Val released her grip on Helen just as Everett threw his arm over her shoulder. A heavy sigh, different from the one in the Clubmobile this morning, left his body. His lips pressed to the top of her head softly as he guided her away from the door, towards where it was a bit quieter.

“Give us a minute, Helen?” Everett asked her, and Val could tell something had happened up there.

“I’ll have a drink waiting for you, Ev.” Helen nodded, making her way back into the hut to join Olive and Tattie.

“Ev?”

“I need to tell you something,” He spoke lowly. “And I need you to listen before you react, okay?”

“You’re scaring me…”

“Curt wasn’t with us on the return.”

Her entire body ran ice cold at the words, the breath leaving her as if someone had pushed a pin in her lungs and released all of the air. Curt? Reckless as he may be on the ground, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything stupid while he was up in the air, least of all, not coming back.

“His fort took a lot of damage,” Everett continued. “He had a few engine fires, and there was so much flak up there…”

“Is he…did he…”

“We got him over Scotland,” Ev grabbed her hands to stop them from shaking. “Croz was amazing, and plotted a whole route so that Curt could put his fort down over land, somewhere safe.”

“Scotland…”

“The last we heard over the radios, he was making an approach to crash land.”

“Did you see him land?”

“No, I didn’t,” He sighed. “I’m sorry, I wish I knew more honey.”

“Oh god.” Her voice sounded far away, her mind swimming with every possibility of where Curt could be. If he was alive, safe, had he been captured. Was Scotland really the best place for him to land? What did she know? She wasn’t the pilot, she was the coffee and donuts girl.

“Come on…”

She just barely registered that Everett was leading her inside. Didn’t pick up Olive calling her name yet again, or the whiskey glass being pressed into her hand. She felt completely numb, and would be, until Curt came strolling back up to her with that stupid grin on his face. God wouldn’t be so cruel as to take away the only person resembling a sibling in her life, in such a way, would he? Santa Maria, please protect him.

She’s not sure how, but she finds herself sitting in the Officers Club with the girls that night. Vaguely, she remembers Olive walking her outside after Everett had been ushered into interrogation by Chicky, and worrying her mothers Rosary beads between her fingers as she smoked half a pack of cigarettes back in their hut. She’s not sure how she managed to get ready, but when she exited the hut, Everett, Dougie and Harry Crosby were waiting outside for her, Helen and Olive.The walk had been silent, Val tucked under Everett’s arm as they entered the club and sought out their usual table.

Now, she sat with her fourth fifth drink in front of her, Everett seemingly always there with a new one as soon as she’s taken the last sip.

The girls were doing their best to keep her mind occupied on anything other than waiting for news on Curt, and even Benny had dropped Meatball off at the table; the Husky immediately sensing that something wasn’t right with his favorite girls. The band played on as usual, music filling every corner of the club, so she was surprised when she heard Red’s voice carry across the room, hollering for Buck Cleven. She’s even more surprised when Everett comes back from the bar empty handed, his eyes brighter than she’d seen them since he landed that afternoon.

“Come on…” He urges, taking her hand and moving to pull her up from the chair.

“What? Ev, what!”

Before he can answer her, she hears Buck Cleven’s voice booming from where he’s standing at the bar, one word to end all of her troubles.

“Curt!”

Val stands so abruptly, the chair tips backward and clatters to the floor but she doesn’t care. All she cares about is that Everett is pulling her towards the bar where Gale Cleven holds the receiver of the phone between his ear and Bucky’s; the pair of them are yelling frantically down the phone.

“It’s gonna be cold tonight, Curt!” Bucky yells.

“John says he misses his little spoon!” Gale shouts down the line, and she can’t help but roll her eyes at the antics of the boys.

Everett moves to get Bucky’s attention gesturing for him to hand the phone over to Val before either of the two Buck’s decide to hang up. Bucky’s hand grabs Gale’s wrist, and pulls the receiver from his grasp before handing it over to Valencia.

“Curt!”

“Did I worry ya too much?”

“Please tell me you’re in one piece and that I don’t have to write home…”

“All pieces accounted for, Val, I promise.”

“Good. Are you safe?”

“Safe and well on my way to being drunk.”

“Christ sake. Well then, go on, get drunk with your new friends.”

“You’re my number one, always. Hey, thanks for the bit of red. Saved my life.”

Ev places a kiss to her temple just as she hangs up, having heard most of the conversation. Val grins as she turns to Bucky and Gale, both of them watching her with a fondness she was sure she had never seen on either of their faces. At least not directed towards her. Throwing an arm around each of them, she hugged them close, because she knew it was Bucky in the Command Pilot’s seat that day, and Gale who had alerted the rest of the wing to Curt’s fort slowing down, thus sticking with him to the end.

“Well?!” Helen’s eyes were wide as Val and Everett made their way back to the table, cocktails in hand and smiles on their faces.

“He’s safe,” Val breathed out another sigh of relief before rolling her eyes. “And drunk with his Scottish hosts.”

“Of course he is.” Tattie shook her head, but smiled as she ticked off a win for their group in her mind. More moments like this. There should be more of them.

“Drink up!” Ev raised his glass, their friends joining him.

“To that pain in my ass!” Val cheered.

The night rolls on and five cocktails turn into seven. Val has moved from her chair to Everett’s lap, a cigarette in one hand and the other holding his. When he didn’t have her out on the dance floor cutting a rug, they were with their friends. Even Meatball had perked up, and was currently vying for attention from everyone. The news of Curt’s safety spread amongst the rest of the men, and the atmosphere in the club seems to be charged with lightning. Everyone's a little brighter, more relaxed, smiling a little wider.

“Bike race in the mess hall!” Graham comes hurtling around the corner, arms flailing as he yells into the crowd. “Who’s in?”

A chorus of agreements and hollers as the men in the club leave their drinks and descend on the mess hall. Val clambers from Everett’s lap, giving him a wink as she grabs Olive with one hand and Helen with the other. The three of them run in the direction of the crowd, giggling the entire way. They push their way into the mess hall, cheeks red and eyes bright as they try to find a good spot to view the race. Tattie joins them a moment later, drink in hand and face just as red as the rest of them in excitement as they settle against the wall.

The boys are all pushing their way in with their bikes, the sound of shouts and tires screeching against the linoleum filling the air as one of the men not racing begins collecting money from the onlookers. They see Everett, Benny and Douglass all push their way as close to the front as they can get, Croz already on his bike. When Douglass spots the girls, he hollers over to Benny in a bid to get Olive’s attention.

“Hey DeMarco!” He yells, a few rows behind where Benny is. “Whoever wins gets to walk the pretty girl back!”

“You’re on, Doug!” Benny yells back, turning and giving Olive and the girls a cheeky grin.

“Jesus Christ…” Val hears Olive sigh, and doesn’t need to look over to know she’s rolling her eyes in that British way she usually does.

Val is watching Everett as he mounts his bike. Croz is on his left, the navigator struggling to find his balance on the bike as he grabs Douglass for support. If she hears Dougie ask Croz to give him a push ahead of Benny, she doesn’t say anything, wanting to see how it all plays out. She blows Ev a kiss and displays a cheeky smile for luck before she turns back towards the girls; just as Bucky Egan and Gale Cleven push their way to the front.

“Rank has its privileges, boys!” Cleven calls over the din of the room, bumping shoulders with John Brady as he settles on his bike.

“I see money changing hands,” Egan points over towards where the betting is taking place. “That better be going on me!”

Graham stands in front of the boys, whistling to get their attention before he begins giving them their route.

“Alright, are y’all ready?!”

The crowd yells almost louder than before, and suddenly Graham’s got his pistol in the air, a single shot fired into the roof to signal the start of the race.

“YEEHAW!”

The boys all push off, Douglass yelling for Croz who’s wobbling on his bike as he yells with the rest of them GO GO GO. Egan and Cleven are in the lead, no surprise, while Brady is hot on Egan’s heels. Everett, Douglass and Benny are all neck and neck, Croz pulling up the rear. The four girls are shouting with all their might, throats raw from screaming for the boys, drinks sloshing around them and cigarettes burning unattended between their fingers.

“Come on, Egan, ya lard ass!” Gale shouts, goading Bucky on to try and catch up to him as they begin their second lap out of the Officers Mess.

Even Kidd and Veal, who’ve perched themselves off to the side, are getting into the excitement of the race. It’s when Cleven takes the last turn that he skids off his bike, crashing to the ground in a fit of laughter as Bucky topples off right behind him. The rest of the boys follow suit, all of them racing to their feet to try and cross the finish line first when a shrill siren cuts the atmosphere of the room like a knife.

“Stop!” Jack Kidd yells, hopping off his perch and waving his long arms to get the attention of the crowd. “Don’t you hear the siren? Everyone to the shelters!”

Bikes forgotten on the ground, the boys all begin to move towards the exit, the girls all linking arms to stay together. They begin the walk towards the shelters, a hefty distance from where they currently are, when Dougie and Benny slide up on either side of Olive. Val watches, amused, until a pair of hands fall on her waist, pulling her flush against the chest of the owner.

“Sneaking up on me?” She grins, though he can’t see it.

“Not sure I could,” Ev whispers in her ear, leaving a gentle kiss to the underside of her jaw. “You’d smell my aftershave.”

Turning in his arms, Val allows him to guide her as she walks backward a few paces, her hands gripping his forearms.

“Let’s go somewhere.” She grins wildly, curls falling from their usually perfectly pinned style, eyes shining.

“Okay, sure,” He humors her. “Where should we go? Paris? Rome? New York?”

“Everett, come on, I’m being serious!” She gently slaps his arm.

“So am I,” He smiles. ““Where do you want to go?”

“The mess hall, I’m starving. I skipped dinner.”

“Val…”

“Please, Ev? I want a snack…”

“Jesus you’re adorable when you’re drunk sweetheart.”

“Can I be adorable with a snack then, please?”

“Okay, let’s go.” He conceded, knowing she probably hadn’t eaten anything after finding out that Curt was somewhere else. The least he could do was make sure she didn’t go to bed hungry.

——————————————————

Breaking off from the rest of the group, the pair of them began running hand in hand towards the opposite direction of the shelters, laughing like kids the entire time. Checking that no one was watching, they slipped back inside the now vacant mess hall; the only sign that it had been occupied were the bikes still on the ground and the lights that had remained on during the hasty exit. The only noise in the hut was the sound of Val’s heels on the floor and their laughter as they tried to catch their breath. Leading Everett towards where the girls always pack away any leftover donuts from the Clubmobile, she guides him through a door and into the kitchen. The moonlight is giving just enough light to see where they’re going, the kitchen dark, and unfamiliar territory to Everett.

“There should be…” Val bends at the waist to pull out the covered box that usually sat in the Clubmobile. “Perfect!”

“What’d you find?” Ev turns to her, taking the box from her hands to set it on the counter.

“Donuts!”

“I’ll tell you what, sweetheart,” He pulled the towel off and tossed it to the side, snatching one from the box. “I did not think I’d be eating as many donuts during the war as I actually am.”

“Well, I didn’t think I would be serving coffee and donuts to pilots, so I guess we’re both surprised at the outcome.”

“What were you doing before all this?” Everett asked.

“Suddenly he’s curious,” She teased. “I was a secretary, but don’t tell Chicky. For the Federal Reserve Bank.”

Hopping up on the counter, Val plucked the donut from Everett’s hand, breaking it in half before popping it into her mouth. Red lips pursed and eyes closed as she enjoyed her snack, she didn’t notice Everett move closer, standing between her legs, until his hands softly slid up her thighs.

“Happy?”

“Oh, I’m very happy,” Her eyes fluttered open, catching his gaze. Taking the other half of the donut, she brought it up to his mouth, holding it between two manicured fingers. “Are you happy?”

His answer came in the form of a bite of the food she was currently offering him, his lips grazing her fingers before pulling away, eyes never leaving hers. Waiting until there was no food in his mouth, he leaned in closer, fingers gripping her a little tighter. His lips just barely touched hers before they settled on the corner of her mouth. It was a gentle kiss, and when he pulled back, Val could see the glimmer in his hazel orbs and the smirk on his lips.

“You had a crumb…” He kissed the other side of her mouth for good measure, not one to leave any spot untouched.

She gazed up at him through her lashes, heat instantly pooling low in her belly. How could sharing a snack and a kiss cause her to feel emotions so strongly, that she wanted him to lay her out on the counter and have his way with her while no one was around.

“Ev…”

“No one’s around to interrupt us this time.” He whispered, and she was sure he felt the shudder that ripped through her body from head to toe.

“I think…” She breathed, trying with all her might to focus on the words that were on the tip of her tongue. His teeth gently closed over her earlobe, warm breath fanning across her cheek.

“What do you think? Hmm?”

“That we should pick up where we left off.”

Her jacket was off in an instant as he kissed the air from her lungs. One hand holding the back of her neck, fingers tangled in what remained of the evening's hairdo as the other moved down the front of her blouse, unbuttoning each little white button painstakingly slow. Her hands made quick work of pulling his tie loose, his own jacket discarded somewhere before he had gotten to work on undressing her. Even in the dim lighting of the room, he’s able to clearly see the soft lines of her body as he pushed her shirt from her shoulders. The white lace of her brassiere standing out against her skin, breaths coming out harsh in the near silence of the room as she sat on the counter and continued to bring Everett to the same state of undress as she was. All she could think of was having her hands on him, feeling his skin under her palms, the ropes of muscle she knew were under his clothes every time he held her on the dance floor now exposed to her.

It was a tentative first touch as she slid her hands up the planes of his chest, a smattering of soft hair just under his collar bones as she let herself explore what she could. Val could feel Everett’s eyes on her; his sharp hazel gaze watching as she let her hands roam across his skin, across his clavicle, down over his arms until she reached his hands. Those hands that made her feel safe every time they held hers; soft and gentle when they were together, skilled and agile when he was piloting his fort and keeping his crew safe. They were both of those things, and still she loved them most when they were holding her. Lifting his left hand, she began to pepper kisses to each of his fingers, appreciating one of her favorite parts of him without words. The part of him that kept her safe. Sharing with him feelings that she wasn’t sure she could put into words yet, because even she wasn’t sure how to explain it. Only that she felt content when he was near her, a feeling that evaded her for so long she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel it again. To finally feel it now, Val wanted to grab it with both hands and never let go.

“Can I…?” Val looked up from her task, lips still pressed, unmoving, to the palm of his hand. His question sitting between them, heavy in the air.

“Please…” It came out in a whisper, fading into a whine as his hands fell to her waist, tugging her closer to the edge of the counter so that he could do with her what she had done with him.

Appreciating every dip and curve his eyes and mouth could find, Everett set to work with expressing his own feelings, deep and seated within him were words he too was not sure he could explain out loud, and still, he knew his actions could do it for him. His mouth blazed a trail from her lips, down the column of her throat, across her clavicle then over the swell of her breasts. The hands on her waist traveled a path almost identical to the one that night in his plane, stopping just short of where he had been dreaming of having them ever since she guided him there that first time. He felt like he had won the lottery when she helped guide him the rest of the way once more, her legs spreading just a bit wider to accommodate his body getting closer to her own. When she slid the straps of her brassiere down, gaze focused entirely on him, he became a man possessed. His hands moved to her back, mapping out the planes of her exposed skin until they settled on the clasp at the back of the delicate white garment shielding her from his eyes. Ducking his head down, his lips sucked a delicate mark at the juncture of her jaw, just below her ear, tongue laving over the spot just as his fingers slipped the clasp open, the lace falling slack and pooling between their bodies.

“My god,” He groaned, wanting to take in every detail, every breath she took as her body reacted to just his gaze. “Look at you. A god damn goddess.”

Val wasn’t sure words would suffice what she wanted him to do, so instead, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, slanting her mouth over his and kissing him with every ounce of herself that she could muster. With his mouth occupied, Everett let his hands carefully slide over her, breasts filling his palms as if they were made just for him to hold. She moaned into his mouth as his thumbs brushed over her already pebbled nipples, and so he did it again and again if only to hear the sweet sounds she made.

“Beautiful,” He growled, with his face nuzzled into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, he paid close attention as she reacted to his touch. “You and those sweet sounds you make.”

“Ev…” She breathed his name, head tipping back as he gave her a gentle pinch before softening his touch once more.

“I wonder what other sounds I can pull from you, sweetheart.”

“Yes…please.”

Slowly, as if he was afraid to scare her away, he dropped one hand to her waist before letting it slide down to her thigh. With her skirt riding up on its own, his fingers gently teased the exposed skin above where her pantyhose and garter belt met. Her flesh was pliable under his nimble fingers, and he took his time ghosting over her, soaking up every second he was allowed to be exposed to her so vulnerably. By the time he reached the apex of her thighs and felt her shiver against him, he knew he was going to have to make good on her request from the last time they were alone. Don’t stop. But he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to control himself if that was the request- if he wouldn’t take her in the cockpit of a plane, would he be able to live with knowing their first time together was on the kitchen counter of the officers mess hall?

“Val, honey…”

“I know,” She breathed, dropping her forehead against his chest, lips pressing kisses across the exposed skin. “I know…”

“You have to tell me what you want, sweetheart.” He pressed his thumb against her, teasing, testing the waters, and watched in awe as she pressed herself closer to him, keening under his touch.

“I want you…”

“I want you too, honey,” His thumb now moving at a steady pace over her clothed center, he couldn't help but watch her in amazement. “God you look so pretty like this.”

“Everett, please… please don’t stop…”

He continued to drive her higher. Her breaths uneven and ragged, her hands clutching him, face pressed against his chest. Had she not been sitting on the counter her legs would surely have given out by now. Gently, he used his free hand to urge her back, supporting her so that she wasn’t laying out on the counter, but no longer hiding her face from him. Her neck and chest covered in a thin sheen of sweat, eyes pinched shut and red lips parted, it was taking all of his self control not to strip the both of them completely bare and take her right there. But he promised himself he would do it properly with her. She deserved all of the proper things.

“Open your eyes for me, pretty. Come on, let me see you come apart.”

She was crumbling under his hands as soon as the words left his mouth, crying out so loud that he covered her mouth and swallowed her moans so no one else dared hear the beautiful sound. He held her as she came down from her high, hands rubbing up and down her back, peppering kisses across her face, down her jaw, before settling on her lips. He would repeat the process for as long as it took for her to come back to herself. Back to him. Then again, she was closer now than she’d ever been to him, and he’d fight tooth and nail to never lose it.

The air around them had been charged for the better part of the night, sparks following their every move and lighting their way. Now, in a half debauched state, holding onto one another, the sparks continued to orbit, settling softly around them as they took refuge in each other's arms in a time of darkness, pain and loss.

Yes. This would be their safe place during the war. Together.

Part Five

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @precious-little-scoundrel

#eight to the bar #eight to the bar: ev & val #oc: valencia dirosano #everett blakely #masters of the air #Ev & Val #mota fanfic #everett blakely x ofc #everett blakely x oc #james douglass #oc: olive lewis #benny demarco #just a snappin #hbo war #gina baker writes

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winniemaywebber · 6 months ago

Text

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.

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #olive lewis #honeysuckle rose #oc: olive lewis #oc: valencia dirosano #benny demarco #benny demarco x oc #james douglass #james douglass x oc #everett blakely #everett blakely x oc #ww2 #wwii #time travel #just a snappin #winnie writes

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winniemaywebber · 5 months ago

Text

Honeysuckle Rose • Part 8

james douglass x olive lewis

part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven

masterlist ao3 olive's playlist

notes: a little heavy petting 🤭

Something big is brewing on base, the Brass keeping their cards close to their chest. The Red Cross Girls navigate their way through revelations, chance meetings and feelings from the past that rear their ugly head.

Despite the very few hours of sleep she had gotten, the sun rising over the beautiful Suffolk fields as the gang had all congregated in the cool morning air in celebration of no longer being a fractured bunch, Olive felt refreshed.

The group had left the club in the early hours to see the sun rise, telling each other that the lack of sleep would be worth it. The gang, joined by Curt’s co-pilot Dickie, sat on the surprisingly soft grass of the airfield in a gentle silence. The sweet countryside air whipped all around them, Olive finding warmth tucked inside of Dougie’s jacket, his arm around her as she snuggled into him. She laid her head on his shoulder, him smiling as she stroked his face. The fiery hues of the morning sky brought out the beautiful blue of his eyes, Olive practically falling into them as the two of them seemed to slip into their own little world. It was at this moment she realized; she was falling in love with him. It had hit her like a freight train, the thought causing her to gasp out loud.

“Okay, doll?” James asks, holding her even closer to ward off the cold.

“Never better, honey.”

—

The early start came with the beginnings of a headache from lack of sleep. However, Olive found herself extremely peppy for this time of the morning. She, along with Tattie, had gone about most of their morning duties occasionally exchanging quiet conversation and Tattie preparing herself for her impending hangover. “It doesn't knock you on your ass if you don't go to sleep,” she laughs, wincing at the sound of her own voice.

“You didn't sleep? Jesus Christ, Spaatz. You mad bugger.”

“There was no point,” she replies, beginning to daintily arrange donuts on a tray. “By the time I'd have got myself into bed, it would have been time to get up again. There,” she says, placing the tray on the counter. She lights two cigarettes, handing one to Olive before pouring them a cup of coffee each. “This'll perk us up, kid.”

A bark echoes through what feels like the whole air base, Olive and Tattie both jumping at the sound of it. “Hold on to your hats,” Tattie smiles. “Here comes trouble.”

“Oh, yeah! He's brought Meatball with him too!”

Benny strolls up to the Clubmobile alongside Meatball, stifling a yawn as he approaches.

“Demarco!” she cheerfully greets, pouring him a coffee before he even has a chance to ask. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Meatball was crying for the bathroom, then I saw Lemmons while we were out there. Said he needed me to look over something on Our Baby.”

“Ah,” she nods. “Leave the good boy here with me. It seems pretty easy out here today, so it's no bother.”

“Thanks, Ol. Hey, everything worked out now?”

“Oh, yes,” she blushes. “Everything smoothed over. What about you?” she enquires, eyebrow raised. “You set him straight?”

“Too right. I made it clear that it's only him you care for in that way. I told him that if he thinks he saw what he thought he saw, he should've asked me; I also told him that if he ever made you cry again, he'd pay for it. He got a little sheepish at that.”

“Christ,” she whispers, shaking her head in amusement.

“Hey, no hard feelings. We shook hands, back to being pals. No harm done.”

“Well, if you say so. Here,” she says, placing another two cups of coffee and a few donuts in front of him. “One for you, the coffees and other donuts are for Kenny and Wink.”

“Thanks. Run over and grab me if the dog is too much trouble.”

He turns on his heel and departs, Meatball barking incessantly as his person walks away from him without so much as a pat goodbye.

“Benny!” Olive shouts. “You forgot something!”

—

“Good morning boy, hi!” Olive hears, seeing Meatball perk up instantly with his ball in his mouth, expecting playtime at the sight of more people walking up to the Clubmobile. Val bends down to pet him, scritching at the dog's ears as he drops the ball at her feet and pants happily in her face. “Did you have a nice snooze?”

“He snoozed more than any of us, that’s for sure.” Helen says, rolling her eyes and smiling.

“When I checked last night, you were snoozing on top of Dickie,” Olive smiles, cheekily pointing at her friend with a triumphant grin.

“He was closest,” Helen grumbles. “And Tattie took the dog.”

“Surprised Benny didn’t put up more of a fight for him honestly,” Tattie says, stubbing out her cigarette and turning to begin spot cleaning the counters.

Mentioning Benny's name seemed to be a careless mistake. At the mention of his name, Meatball leans forward and begins howling, Cleven’s assumption once again being proved right.

“That wolf is part dog,” he had grumbled to Olive, a few days after their first meeting. Seeing her love on him, he crouched down beside her and told her all about how he'd come to be the group's mascot.

“Benny won him,” he laughed, holding a hand out for the dog to sniff at. “Craps.”

“Probably the luckiest win of his life,” Olive had replied, nuzzling into Meatball for warmth. “Wait, how did you get him here all the way from Greenland?”

“He flew with us. Howled the whole darn way, Lewis. It was unbearable, let me tell ya.”

“I'll bet,” she had said, raising her eyebrows.

“Benny joked that his dog was part wolf,” he pauses, standing up and wiping his hands on his slacks. “I said that wolf is part dog.”

“Okay, Meatball, shhh.” Olive crouches down to ruffle the fur between his ears in comfort, when suddenly, the dog mistakes her loving on him for playtime and jumps up onto her, pushing her to the floor.

“Oh, Meatball!” Val laughs, unable to pull him off Olive and help her friend as he continues to lick her face. Through the chaos, laughter and struggle, a familiar voice booms across to them, with Everett Blakely following closely behind.

“Wow, and here I thought I was the only fella who got to smother you in kisses!” Dougie’s voice calls out as he walks up the path to the Clubmobile, a smirk about his lips. He seems to have woken up incredibly happy, a jaunty little pep in his step as he walks up to greet everyone.

“Fella, yes,” Olive looks up at him from her place on the ground, his blue eyes softly boring into her. “But he’s not a fella, he’s a Meatball.”

“Well, then he’s the only Meatball who gets to smother you in kisses.” Dougie approaches the dog, gently tugging at his collar to get him off Olive and helps her stand, his hand stroking hers as he does so.

“Did anyone get any sleep last night?” Dougie questions everyone, looking at their exhausted faces as he helps Olive dust off, tickling her playfully as he does so.

“James!” she shrieks, playfully swatting at him.

“Barely,” Val sighs, answering his question through Olive’s giggles. She moves slightly, joining Ev and snuggling into him. “I can’t remember the last time I stayed out all night like that.”

“Had to be sometime before the war…” Ev sighs, placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Somehow it always involves Curt.” Val groans, her back turned to the path the aforementioned man is now sauntering down.

“Hey, yous guys!”

“Talk of the devil…” Val begins.

“And he shall appear,” Olive and Helen finish, climbing into the truck and pouring coffee for those who have now congregated around the area. They hand out the cups, now knowing each coffee order by memory. If anything proved how close these girls had gotten to these men, it was this very thing. Sometimes, all these men needed was a silent nod and a wry smile as a perfectly warm beverage and donut was set in front of them without a word. All the girls could do was hope they were able to make the same coffee the next day, hoping more than anything to keep seeing these familiar faces, just as the men wanted to see theirs.

“Ol, Harding wants to see me. Not sure what it's regarding but I'd better get there al momento. Curt says he'll be on Meatball duty but–”

“Yeah, he'll sod it off after five minutes,” she titters. “Need one of us to go with?”

“Ev is giving me a hand, thanks, doll.”

“I'm sure he is, you cheeky pair.”

“Leave it, English,” she scolds with a wink, surprising her with a kiss on the cheek. “Be back soon, ‘kay?”

“Tell me what it's about when you're back! I may be sleepy but I am still nosy!”

—

“Mail's here!” Tattie yells, wafting a letter in front of Olive's face. She takes it from Tattie’s fingers with a smile, and takes in the unfamiliar penmanship written upon the envelope. It feels thick, the paper creaking slightly as she squeezes it to survey its contents without needing to open it. Not able to keep herself waiting any longer, she rips it open with her thumb and removes six thick pages, tied with ribbon, along with a single sheet of paper that's been beautifully folded into three. Setting the wad of paper to the side for just a second, she quickly scans the letter: your friend, Juliet.

“Aw!” Olive says, stuffing the papers back in the envelope they arrived in. “Brady's girl wrote me back. That's so sweet.”

“What you got there?” Dougie asks, stuffing a second - or was it a third? - donut into his mouth, looking at the huge stack of papers in Olive’s hand. She opens it, a huge smile spreading across her face, causing her cheeks to glow a little. Dougie feels his breath catch in his throat as he sees her eyes light up, quickly taking in the first three pages. It's the dimple in her cheek as she grins, the way her eyes sparkle and crinkle as her cheeks lift, the subtle glow of them, too. He clears his throat after realizing he's been holding his breath, a hand out towards Olive.

“I've got a few minutes. You wanna go somewhere quiet and read that?”

“I'd love to! Helen?” She calls, turning her head to find her friend. “You good here? I wanna go read this,” she says, gesturing to the thick pages in her hands.

“Gosh, yes!” she cries, beginning to pour herself a coffee. “Take your time. I'll have Meatball bark if I need you!”

—

Sitting on her bunk with a sigh, she pats the space next to her. “Are you staying?” she asks Dougie, who is standing awkwardly by the door.

“Am I allowed in here?”

“It's just me, so, yes, I'd say so. Don't be trying to come in when we're all in here though; it gets a little cramped.” She pats the blanket again, hoping he takes the hint. “Come sit, darling.”

He finally begins walking towards the bunk, swiping up Val's copy of Screen Romances as he reaches Olive. “You think she'll mind?” he asks, holding it out toward her. Smirking, she shakes her head, beginning to open the letter again. Dougie sits down next to her as gently as he can, his arm wrapping around her shoulder. Her head falls on to him right away, as if his shoulder was always its safe place.

“How long do you have?” she murmurs, looking up at him from where she's laying.

“I've got a little while,” he smiles, opening the magazine right at the gossip column. “How ever long you need, Ollie.”

She whizzes through the essay, her head on Dougie’s shoulder the whole time as he flips through the magazine, letting out little gasps and even an “ooooh!” when he reads about Clark Gable's latest exploits. Olive folds the papers back together and ties them with the ribbon they came with, smoothing out the silk as she ties it as neatly as she can, trying her best to replicate Jules’ expert handiwork. She looks over at Dougie, shifting slightly under his arm so she can sit up. He doesn't realize she has moved at first, his eyes still on the page and his brow furrowed in concentration. She smiles softly at him, trying her best to take in every detail of his sweet face.

“You're so into the gossip in that magazine, huh?” she asks, breaking the silence. He jumps, face now turning toward her. “Gossip queen.”

“What can I say? I like to be in the know,” he laughs.

“That's just called being nosy, my love.”

“Yeah,” he blushes, taking her hand. “But you know you love it.”

“I do,” she sighs, her face coming towards his to kiss him as her eyes flicker down to his plush lips. She kisses him gently, her heart growing lighter as he smiles down at her. She doesn't pull away right after, and he isn't about to let her. His hand gently tilts her chin up to him and their lips meet again, the both of them softly falling into each other with a sigh. He delicately strokes down her chin to gently grip the side of her neck, an action that causes her to gasp and push her tongue into his mouth. A breathy moan leaves his lips as she kneels - never breaking the kiss - and places a leg on either side of his lap. Her hands wander up to his cheeks, letting them take in his features without needing to open her eyes as his hands fall to her waist, gently squeezing and stroking each curve he can reach over her clothes. Sighs and moans pass between their lips, both of them fighting the urge to not get totally lost in it, a whine of displeasure leaving her as he pulls back to catch his breath.

“Ollie,” he whispers, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You're so pretty.”

That does it for her. She quickly closes the distance between them, tugging on his shirt to bring him impossibly closer, intent on getting the very thing her body craves from him the most. The warmth of his body touching hers, the way he touches her: being so gentle with her that it was like she was something precious and made of fragile porcelain. Her mind recounts previous kisses with previous people and she is sure it’s never felt this good with anyone else, nor has anyone else treated her so lovingly. She sighs back into him, pushing her hips into his.

She's not sure how long they stay like that, herself pulling away to catch her breath. The rule, it seemed, was that she was allowed to do that and he wasn't. Either way, she hated losing the time but loved the split second of taking in his half lidded eyes, as if he were in some kind of dazed state. His expression made a warmth erupt within her, her lungs filling with a contented sigh. She couldn't get enough of knowing she had got him into this state and only she was ever going to make him look like this.

She adjusts herself on his lap, feeling him rock hard underneath her as she sits back down on him. As she moves, a hearty moan leaves him and his breath hitches and she begins to slowly rock on top of him.

“Aaah,” he sighs, his hands now in her hair as he pulls her face away from his. He sees a worried expression flash across her face, her kiss swollen lips beginning to pout as he holds her hips still.

“Why did you stop me?” she asks, intertwining her fingers with his. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no! God, no,” he urges. “I really really want to do this. But I don't want it to be some quick thing where we don't take our time. You deserve better than that.”

“I don't care,” she whimpers, planting urgent kisses all over his face and neck as he laughs.

“I do,” he sighs, kissing her back once she breaks away. “I can't give you the time you deserve right now. I wanna do this right, take our time. Show you how you should be treated. Okay?”

“Fine,” she pouts, her eyelids blinking up at him.

“Hey, don't be like that, angel. Soon, I promise. Pinky promise,” he says, joining their pinky fingers together and kissing her hand.

A tap, tap, tap on the window pulls them out of the moment. They both turn towards the window and see Ev standing out there, urging Dougie to go to him, Dougie patting Olive's behind to get her off his lap. “Give me a second, honey,” he says quietly, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead as he gets up off the bed.

Olive watches them through the window, Dougie's eyes widening slightly with whatever information Ev seems to be relaying to him. She sees his shoulders droop slightly before Ev pats one of them, beginning to walk towards the hut, and gesturing by pointing at the door for Olive to let him in. She gets up off her bunk, placing the letter on the small desk next to it and walks towards the door, opening it quickly.

“You can open it yourself, Ev,” she laughs, smoothing her hair down quickly.

“How was your, uh, reading?”

“Educational, thanks,” she replies, blushing and giggling.

“Can't believe that guy got to sneak in here before me,” he complains, shaking his head and pulling a small sheet of paper from Val’s stationary.

“Maybe you're not picking the right moments, Blakely. What are you doing?”

“Leaving a note for Val, English.”

“You're so sly,” she pokes, reading it as he places the small sheet of paper on her pillow. She catches sight of the last line and gasps, almost squeals, in fact. Love you.

“Don't let that slip before I can, Ol.”

“Don't know what you mean, Everett,” she winks, nudging him with her elbow into his ribcage. “I promise I won't tell her before you do.”

“Good. Then I promise to not tell you before Dougie does.”

She processes what he has just said. What did that mean?

“Ha ha, yeah, good one.” She stumbles over each word, her mouth drying as her hands clam up. A false laugh tumbles from her lips as she rushes towards the exit, finding Dougie still outside and waiting for her and Everett.

“Everything okay?” he asks, her hand finding his instantly. She feels him relax into her touch, his face softening as she silently comforts him. She pulls him towards her and holds him close, breathing him in as she savors the words that have just been said. “I promise to not tell you before Dougie does.”

“I've gotta go,” he sighs. “We're taking the new boys on a practice run.”

“New boys?” she questions, realizing that was why Val was beckoned by Red and Chick earlier.

“Yeah, replacements came in today. Ev says they seem a little nervous, but–”

“Hey, you've both got it,” she says, pulling him close. “You'll lead them through,” she soothes, beginning to stroke the back of his neck. “I know it.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I'll be back later, okay?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, kissing his cheek. “Be safe, all of you. Especially you.”

—

Olive spots Tattie leaning against the vehicle, smoking a cigarette and deep in conversation with Jack Kidd, Tattie breaking into peals of laughter at something he has said. Olive subtly looks between the pair of them, him smiling down at Tattie as laughter rises from her throat. She sees his whole face light up with joy as he watches her laugh, the first time she has seen him without a scowl upon his face. The air somehow feels different between them, and Olive finds it best to not disturb that.

She feels a wet nose poking into her leg and turns around to see Meatball sniffing at her incessantly. “Hey, buddy,” she says, leaning down to pet him and making kissy faces at him.

“Hey, kid,” greets Tattie, making Olive jump slightly. “Val and Helen are tidying up after greeting the new guys, so we're on Meatball duty.”

“I guessed. Ev had to come grab Dougie from me so they could go on their practice run,” she shrugs. “Curt just go too?”

“Jesus, no,” she laughs. “He gave up on doggy daycare after five minutes.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she replies, smiling. “What do you need me to do?”

“There's a load of donuts we need to get rid of before they go stale. Know anyone on the ground that would be interested?”

“Seems I know just the guys, Tat. You parcel them up and I'll take Meatball over to the hardstands to see Kenny and Wink. This dog needs a run around anyway.”

—

The sun tucks itself behind the clouds, the skies graying as the afternoon passes slowly. It seems that British summer time never changes, Olive thinks to herself as loads up a tray with coffee and donuts for the ground crew. Placed in the middle was a paper bag stuffed full of donuts, the bag being found by Tattie as she rifled through the last of the day’s newspapers.

“Ah,” she declared, somehow expertly turning it inside out without ripping it, so as not to get newspaper ink on the baked goods.”Just perfect,” she had said, a half smoked Lucky Strike hanging from her red lips. Without warning, the smoke had risen up from the cigarette and crept its way into her eye, her hand instantly clamping over it as a single tear ran from the lid. “Darn it!” She had shrieked, whipping a cloth from Helen’s shoulder as she secretly tittered, her own hand over her mouth. Olive tries her best to hold it in, the full coffee cups shaking on the tray she was holding.

“Get gone, English, before I clip you around the ear hole for laughing at me!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Olive giggled, slipping Helen a subtle wink as she departed.

Left with no other choice, Olive lets Meatball walk off leash. “Don’t make me regret this, buddy,” she urges, watching him walk not in a straight line but in some strange zig zag motion, as if to antagonize her into dropping the six cups of hot liquid straight on to the pavement.

“Woah!” she scolds, nearly tripping over the furry fool’s body as he stops suddenly to sniff the air, panting at the sound of his friends’ voices from afar. He almost looks like he’s smiling at her, seeming to enjoy her almost panicking at each drip of coffee falling from its full cup. “Meatball, we’re about to not be friends if you have me tripping face first into the ground.”

He suddenly obliges, though not to appease Olive; a baseball lands right at his feet and he’s off like a shot towards the hardstands the second he retrieves it in his mouth.

A few moments later, Olive finds him being fussed over by Lemmons. She places the tray down on someone’s tool chest, rubbing her sore arms.

“Heavy?” Wink asked, nudging her with his elbow.

“Not really,” she replies. “Not much weight to it but it was the keeping it upright that was the challenge. Especially with trying to keep Meatball close by and not have me tripping over my own feet. Here,” she says, handing him his cup. “I know it’s a little late in the day, but–”

“No, it’s much appreciated, Lewis,” he replies, taking a deep sip. “We’re out here for a while longer anyway, and this’ll keep the energy up for sure. We’ve got a long night ahead of us, I think, judging by Harding’s urgency.”

“You know what it’s about yet?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he laughs. “You seem to be in the know. Friends in high places and all that.”

“No special privileges here, Wink,” she jokes back, opening the bag of donuts and offering it to him. “I know as much as you, kiddo.”

“Olive!” Lemmons greets, grabbing a coffee from the tray. “Y’know, I expected more cold beer than hot coffee for keeping your little secret, but seeing as you brought donuts, I’ll let it slide.”

“You’d better,” she smiles, handing him the bag. She realizes that Wink is still standing in the same spot, absolutely in earshot. He is either too invested in his donut to look shocked, or there’s the alternative. Olive’s eyes narrow and bore into the young man in front of her, happily sipping coffee and petting the dog.

“Kenny…” she says through gritted teeth. “Did you tell anyone else?”

“Oh, heck,” he murmurs, his face dropping and growing ashen by the second. “Y’see, I just– well, he wanted to know why I was just so het up and I–”

“So you told Wink, without checking with me first, and he–” she stops, turning to the man beside her. “You’re fine with it?”

“Yeah, Olive. I was telling Kenny you seem a little different and I was just putting it down to you being English.”

“But I let it slip. I–I’m sorry, Ol.”

Her teeth bare again, her brow furrowing so hard that she is sure it could one up Valencia’s famous glare. “Kenny,” she growls, her eyes beginning to fill with angry tears. She drops the act the second she sees him wince at what’s coming next. She laughs, wiping her tears and sees his eyes grow wide. “I’m only fucking around, pal. It’s fine, you’re grand.”

“Jesus, Ol,” he breathes out, relieved. “Ya scared me, girl!”

“I told you, I’m an actor. I’ve got to pull it out every now and then to mess with my friends, it’s only fair.”

“Well, it worked! Hell fire!” He wipes his brow, finally taking a bite of the donut he had picked from the bag a few moments ago.

“Will you keep the dog for a little while? Me and the girls want to be ready for when the boys come back and we don’t want our nicer uniforms covered in dog hair.”

“What, not just this once? Take a little Meatball to dinner with ya?” Kenny coos, bending down to be close to Meatball’s face and pouting. Laughing, he stands up and brushes at his knees. “Sure thing, buddy. I’ll bring him back later.”

“Thanks, Ken. See you later!”

“Hey, thanks for dinner and a show!”

“You’re welcome!”

—

Back at the hut, Olive slumps on her bunk with a tired sigh. All this staying out into the early hours of the morning was beginning to take a real toll on her, no matter how fun it was. She feels herself getting drowsy, a sleepy warmth washing over her as she lay her head on her pillow for just a moment, to get the room to stop spinning. She calculates how long it's been since she went back to Pearl, and sits up in shock. Her whole body suddenly tense, she makes a mental note to go back as soon as possible. Not knowing how time will behave and treat her, she feels a panic rise up in her chest, the breathlessness of it making a rush of heat run up her body and burn her throat.

“Ol?” a voice, Helen’s, but sounds like it's underwater. “Olive, look at me,” she urges, her hand now on Olive's forehead. “Breathe, girlie.”

She nods weakly, and begins to look around the room as the walls begin to close in on her. She tries to find something to focus on, her eyes falling to the bed opposite hers - Valencia’s bunk - with the note still sat prettily atop the pillow. Disappointed that Val hadn’t seen it yet, she hopes that she arrives back soon to retrieve it. It’s this simple thought, the thought of her friend smiling as she reads it, that brings her back to herself.

“There,” Helen comforts, wiping Olive’s face with a damp washcloth. “I’ve got you. What pulled you out of it?”

“Thinking of Val’s face when she sees what he’s written.”

“Oh, I know!” She squeals. “I can hardly wait. Did she tell you who I met today?”

“No!” she cries. “I haven’t seen her since this morning. Oh my gosh, spill!”

She begins, her words coming out of her dainty mouth at a mile a minute as she regales the tale of meeting ‘the most handsome pilot I’ve ever laid my eyes on.’

“The most handsome?” Olive teases, hanging on every word.

“Yes!” she giggles, once again describing him. As she continues to chatter and giggle, Olive joining and doing just the same, the door swings open. Their conversation stops, their eyes sparkling and smiling widely at their friend.

“You’ve got mail…” Olive sing songs playfully, pointing over at the pillow.

“What don’t I know?” Val smiles, her pretty green eyes narrowing at the two giggling girls on the bed opposite.

“Nope,” Olive says, truly sticking to her promise of not revealing anything. She mimes zipping her lips, the action sending her and Helen into a peal of girlish giggles all over again.

“Olive!” she stomps, shaking her head at the mischievous pair who are falling over themselves with laughter.

Olive sees Val’s eyes read the note one, two, three times, each time with a little extra speed than before. She stands up from the bed and stands in front of Val, that all knowing, cheeky glint still sparkling in her eye.

“He…oh my God…” She stutters out, her hand flying out to find Olive’s to steady herself.

“He what, honey?” Helen asks, despite knowing exactly what she is referring to.

“That’s the first time...in a note!” She cries, trying to find a way to steady her heart’s rhythm at the revelation.

“The first time for what?” Helen teases again, still perched upon the bed with the same all-knowing look Olive has on her own face.

“Val, honey, are you okay?” Tattie asks, quietly entering the room.

“DID YOU KNOW?!” Val yelps, her attention turning to Olive, who is taken aback by the way Val’s voice is a few pitches higher than they’re all used to.

“Did I know what?” she asks innocently, almost winking at her.

“THIS!” she shrieks, waving the paper in front of her eyes.

“What’s it say?” the Brit asks, trying to peer around the paper to read the words she’s already read numerous times today.

“English, please!” She releases Olive’s hand and sits on her bed, her lungs tightening in her chest.

“Okay, okay,” she relents, taking a seat beside her on the bunk. “I promised,” she says, crossing her heart, “that I wouldn’t let it slip before you found out or he told you.”

“How did you…”

“Dougie and I were in here earlier,” she smiles at the memory, remembering the way he touched her hours before sending her organs dancing into a frenzy. “I was reading my mail when Ev came looking for him.”

“Yeah, okay, you two were ‘reading,’” she kids, rolling her eyes at her friend.

“Don’t change the subject, Valencia!”

“Olive!” Helen calls, her face now suddenly a picture of disgust. “Please tell me I’m not sitting where…”

“No, Helen, you’re safe. Nothing happened.”

“As long as I’m not–”

“Would you two please focus?” Val urgently cuts Helen off. “Everett just said he loves me!”

“Well of course he loves you!” Tattie says, rolling her eyes as she walks past the hubbub on her way to the shower block.

“No, I mean, that’s the first time he’s ever said it.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she yells, turning one of the showers on, the squeak of the pipes causing her to need to raise her voice so she’s heard.

“What makes you say that?” Val queries, the note still in her hands.

“Well, for starters,” Helen begins, hoping she is not interjecting on whatever Tattie has to say. “It’s the way you gaze into each other’s eyes when you think no one is looking…” She rolls over, her stomach now on the bed with her feet kicked up behind her.

“Or when we are looking,” Olive teases, nudging her a little. She reaches into her pocket and grabs her cigarettes, lighting two and handing on to Val. “Here, chicken, come on…”

Val takes the cigarette from Olive’s fingers and takes a long drag before exhaling quickly, Olive seeing that the deep breath she took is beginning to somewhat ground her. She begins to talk again, in her normal tone and slower this time, the words accompanied by a plume of white smoke as she speaks. Her eyes seem to glaze over, like she’s lost in another time far away from this one.

“The last person who told me they loved me,” she begins, blinking suddenly.

“There was someone before Blakely?” Tattie calls, her head popping around the wall of the tiled bathroom as she dries herself.

“I don’t like talking about it,” Val sighs, her eyes almost back to their usual green tone. “We met when I started working at the bank. He was a big shot and I was a secretary.”

“Val, you don’t have to tell us.”

“No, it’s okay,” she sighs, looking between her friends. “I want to. I think I need to, to finally be rid of him.”

“Rid of him?” Helen questions.

“He was a real sweet talker,” Val starts. “Not like Curt or Ev. He was the kind of guy who could charm the skirt off a nun. Not even Curt can do that.” She titters, taking another pull of the cigarette in her hand.

“Oh…” Helen cringes slightly, still intrigued by Val’s story.

“So, he charmed me. Charmed me real good, made me lots of promises.”

“Val, did he…” Olive asks.

“No,” she urges, shaking her head. “I was so enthralled by him, I had wanted to.”

“So, what happened?”

“The secretaries would always leave at five in the dot. So, there would be nights I would go home and he would still be working, and so Curt would meet me and walk me home. And one night, we were walking home, we came up to the picture house, and there he was.”

“Oh no!” Helen cries, her hand slapping to cover her mouth as she figures out where this is going.

“He was with another woman,” she sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t know who she was, but I begged Curt to take me home.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“Yes,” she says quietly. “In the police station, after Curt beat him within an inch of his life. They both got arrested for a public brawl.”

“Valencia!” Olive cries, somewhat shocked but not shocked at all at the mental image of Curtis Biddick defending his best friend with his boxer’s fists.

“I had to identify them both. Curt had claimed self defense, so, when it came time to make my statement, I said that my ex had attacked me, and Curt fought back in my defense.”

“Oh my God!”

“I tried dating other fellas after the dust settled, but Curt was always wildly protective and made it difficult. I get why he did it.”

“He really is your protector, isn’t he?” Olive soothes, her fingers intertwining with Val’s.

“Until I found out he was the one who divulged my cocktail order to Everett…”

“Curt did?!” Helen cries happily, almost cheering at the discovery.

“He did,” Val smiles, the cigarette long ignored as it burns its way down to her fingers. “He surprises me in funny ways like that.”

“Insufferable, that one,” Olive chuckles, shaking her head. “But he really is a good egg.”

“What are you going to tell Blakely?” Tattie asks, joining the others in the room again.

“That I love him too,” she grins, showing her perfect teeth. “Because I do love him.”

“Ohhhhh!” It’s Olive’s turn to squeal, almost jumping up and down in excitement. “I knew it!”

—

Olive and Helen watch as Val takes Ev’s note and delicately places it between the pages of the book that rests on her side table. Everett Blakely’s first ‘I love you’ was now secretly pressed between chapters seven and eight of The Great Gatsby. The girls then found themselves in front of the mirror, prettying themselves up for dinner. Being invited to eat in the Officer’s Mess was slightly anxiety inducing anyway, but even more so when Chick Harding would be sat just a few tables away. They dug out their cleanest uniform, once again glad that Olive had sent Meatball to the airfield for his daily exercise. For such an occasion as this, the uniform needed to remain dog-hair, coffee stained and donut sugar free.

Olive watched as Valencia expertly daubed rouge on her cheeks and her signature Victory Red shade on her lips, pouting occasionally in the mirror so as to ensure she’d got the right shape. She tries her best to mimic her movements without making it obvious, pulling her dark brown hair out from under the silk scarf she had used to keep it contained all day, now pinning it away from her face. She had found the perfect shade after the disastrous testing and application of Val’s Victory Red on her first night in the hut. It’s one she will be happy to have kissed off her mouth later, that’s for certain.

“That color looks good on you,” Val utters from next to her.

“Yeah?” She replies, meeting her glance in the reflection of the mirror and resuming the primping of her hair, hoping to somehow smooth it into submission. “It’s not too dark?”

“Not at all. It’s the perfect red for you.”

“I think only you can pull off that Victory Red,” Olive chuckles, the pair of them remembering how that shade had been much too light against Olive’s pale skin, it washing her out and making her impossibly more pasty. “It was not for me.”

“Oh, gosh, do you remember how fast you wiped it off?”

“Immediate no,” she laughs. A sigh leaves her lips, throwing a stray hair pin that had escaped from her hair onto a nearby table. “Ugh, this side does not want to cooperate!”

“Here, let me…” Val stands and walks towards her friend, standing behind her as she begins gently rolling Olive’s hair between her manicured fingers and pinning it in the desired spot.

“How do you do it?” She grumbles, her hair now perfect within seconds, all thanks to an expert hand.

“From an early age, my mother taught me how to be a ‘proper lady’,” she replies, Olive stifling a giggle at Val’s impression of her mom. “‘Valencia, don’t leave the house without lipstick on. Don’t forget to set your hair.’”

Olive laughs fully now at the broken English accent that comes out of her. She is so good at it that it’s almost like her mother is in the room with them. “Is that what she sounds like?”

“Oh, yes,” Val nods. “And Nonna, not a word of English.”

“Well, you’re a whizz,” she compliments, looking up as the final pin is placed in her hair. “I need to pay attention to how you do your hair.”

“You’re doing just fine, chickie,” she winks, walking over to her side table and putting on her watch before collecting her jacket. Olive does just the same, Helen waiting impatiently by the door. “We were all there once.”

“Thanks,” Olive beams at her friend, shoving her arms into her own jacket. “Now, come on. It’s almost 5:30 and if I know those two…”

“They’re probably already outside,” she finishes, Helen opening the door.

The two men stood outside, smoking together and deep in conversation, no doubt about the replacements that had joined them today. Listening in as they mischievously stare through the screen door at their fellas, they catch that Ev had taken a few of the boys up and tested them on formations and calling out navigation patterns. Dougie had simulated a bomb drop for them, the pilot and the bombardier agreeing that two forts in particular had impressed them - the rest, not so much.

“I wanted to take Ol to the pub tonight, but that’s not happening,” Dougie grumbles as he senses the girls making their way towards them.

“I know,” Ev groans in response. “I owe Val a date but, based on what Jack told me earlier, we’re about to go through the mud for a bit.”

“This whole place is mud. Never stops raining!”

“This one sounds big,” Ev musters, his voice low.

“He say where?”

“No, Harding’s keeping it close to the vest.”

“Dammit,” Dougie shoots out, teeth slightly gritted together in annoyance. “It would be nice to know what we’re up against for once.”

“Yeah,” comes the quiet reply from Everett, the final ember bursting from his cigarette. “Explains why he wants us looking after these new kids.”

“Fucking replacements…”

The conversation carries on, the men so involved in it that they still haven’t noticed the girls right by them. The compliments flow, them talking about a pair from Laredo who seemed to be the only ones worth their salt.

Dougie does a double take as he realizes his girl is right by him. He throws his finished cigarette into the makeshift ashtray in front of the hut and smiles his sweet grin, holding out his hand.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “You look beautiful.”

“Heh, thank you,” she giggles, feeling herself blush at his compliment. “You’re looking mighty fine yourself, my love.”

“Good day?” he teases, kissing her gently on the mouth.

“Hm, it was okay, I guess. Nothing much happened,” she pauses, this time being the one to initiate the kiss. “A lot of reading.”

“Oh yeah, we definitely read a lot. Can we read more tomorrow?”

“Only if you buy me a drink later.”

“Deal,” he winks, pulling her close. “Oh, you smell divine, Ollie.”

“Yes, I’m quite appealing when I’m not covered in dog hair and coffee.”

“I think you’re just as beautiful all the time,” he whispers, his voice in her ear sending a delicious tingle down her spine. She lets him keep gently whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she catches sight of Val and Ev going on ahead, the pair of them walking in step as he wraps his arm around her shoulders and keeps her close.

“We’d better go,” she laughs, nodding her head towards their friends. “We’re gonna be late.”

“If that hut is empty, I’m fine being late.”

“James!” she scolds, but laughs nevertheless. “You are so cheeky!”

“Yeah,” he grins, his eyes beginning to light up. “Only for you, though.”

“Oh, it had better be only for me, Douglass,” she flirts, batting her long lashes at him. “Nobody else is getting a piece of this!”

“Nu-uh, no, ma’am. Never.”

The evening air has a chill upon it, Dougie feeling it the moment they begin walking towards the Officer’s Mess. He throws his arm around Olive’s shoulders and pulls her close, the warmth from his body edging the cold away with each step.

“I’d give you my jacket,” he offers. “But I’d have to put it right back on in a second.”

“I understand, sweet. No bother at all.”

He stops, taking her face between his hands and plants a deep kiss on her mouth, both of them feeling the other smile as their lips meet. She giggles as they break apart, taking her thumb to wipe the lipstick from his lips. “Oh, seems this red is your color, too.”

“I knew it. Does that mean I can keep kissing you forever?”

“Sure,” she swoons, the word ‘forever’ sending her insides melting. “I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he whispers, a tone of nervousness to his voice. “Come on, pretty girl. We’re late.”

—

Upon entering the mess, Dougie’s arm once again wraps around Olive, they hear Val’s voice loudly making a remark to Harry Crosby. Gesturing to the couple who are smiling themselves into oblivion, they hear “that about answer your question, Croz?”

“Sure does,” he laughs in response, smiling at them both as Dougie, ever the sweet gentleman, pulls the chair out next to Val for Olive to sit on before rounding the table to sit opposite her, next to Everett.

“So, fellas,” he pipes up, his eyes crinkling from his smile. “How’s it going then?”

“Could ask you the same thing, Dougie,” Brady grins, nodding towards Olive.

“Oh, I’m great,” he enunciates, winking at his girl opposite him, who rolls her eyes in return.

“Brady,” Olive begins, tapping his hand to get his attention. “I just wanted to say how lovely your Juliet is. I received her reply today, and I’ve got to say, what an amazing person. What a magnificent writer she is. Those kids are lucky to have her as their teacher, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, thanks, Olive,” he smiles, his cheeks turning red at the mention of her. “Make sure you mention that in your next letter. I tell her that all the time, yet she never seems to take it in from me. Maybe she’ll listen to someone else.”

“Maybe so! I’m very much the same, John. It’s a girl thing.”

“She write you an essay?” he jokes, shuffling with the salt and pepper shakers on the table.

“She did, actually,” she nods enthusiastically, promising to show him tomorrow.

“Yeah,” Dougie interjects. “We read it together.”

The men at the table give a roaring cheer at his remark, Olive feeling herself turn a deep shade of beetroot as she begins to laugh. “James!” she says, holding on to Valencia as they both laugh with tears in their eyes. “Keep it quiet.”

“Yeah, Doug,” Ev says, ruffling his hair a little. “Keep it quiet.”

Next to her, she sees Val catch the eye of one of the new replacements that had been mentioned earlier. Due to her having not been introduced to them yet, she is finding it hard to place which one had captured Helen’s heart and mind this morning from description alone. Nevertheless, Olive smiles brightly at them in greeting, the curly haired mustached man waving across to Val.

“Hey, Val,” Benny calls from the other end of the table. “Looks like you’ve caught the eye of some of the replacements.” Olive sees Everett’s head twitch just a little at Benny’s words, turning his head slightly to get a better look. “Starry eyed kids.”

“Rosenthal and his crew?” Val responds, shaking her head with a laugh.

“Uh, no, actually…”

“What?” Ev scowls, and finds the men Benny has been referring to. His eyes narrow towards them, his gait akin to a wild cat ready to attack. Olive feels her chest tense up, hoping and praying this isn’t the start of a whole new argument, so soon after getting over the last one.

“Everett, they’re not doing anything,” she pleads, her voice soft. “They’re just–”

“Drooling at my girlfriend like a pack of dogs.”

Olive quickly looks over each of her shoulders, hoping that brotherly Curt Biddick isn’t in the vicinity. Olive isn’t sure who Curt would go for first in this situation - Ev for acting in such a way, or the new boys acting like uncouth savages whose mothers hadn’t taught them manners.

Dougie places a hand on his friend’s shoulder, bringing him out of the envious trance he’d gotten himself in. “Ev, hey pal. They’re just kids, they’ll learn.”

Olive sees Ev’s eyes unlock from the group with a shake of his head as he hears Dougie’s words, the ready-to-pounce stance dropping almost immediately.

“Yeah…learn not to ogle other people’s girlfriends,” he spits, pointedly talking to those same boys, whose faces had dropped a mile in fear.

“Everett…” Val warned, her eyes meeting Olive’s in some kind of confusion. Before he can respond, Gale Cleven stands with his hands on his hips, ever the authoritative figure. Major Buck Cleven addresses the boys, their faces now pale and their eyes darting to fixate on anything but Everett Blakely.

“Fellas,” he nods. “Those girls will get your utmost respect, understood?”

“Y-yes, Major,” they all stutter out, Buck nodding before moving along to say hello to everyone.

“Boys. Miss Lewis, Miss Val,” he smiles, giving Val a little wink after realizing she has heard his talk with the replacements. “Enjoy dinner, everyone.”

“Thanks, Major.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Val and Ev, who are sitting opposite one another just like Olive and Dougie are, begin quietly talking to one another. Olive finds it best to not listen in, having found that this situation was enough drama for one night. Instead, she catches the eye opposite her, Dougie shaking his head and rolling his eyes with a smile as the pair murmur next to them.

—

Dinner finishes, and the group finds that the tiredness has finally caught up with them all, Olive and Val exchanging tired glaces which are not just from feeling full after all they’d eaten for dinner.

“So, club?” Dougie asks, taking a drag of his just lit cigarette and passing it across to Olive.

“Hmm, no. Not tonight,” she shakes her head, blowing smoke out of her mouth. “Unless Val wants to?”

“Hell no,” she laughs, dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. “I need my bed.” She pauses for a second, evidently piecing a thought together. “Why don’t we just go sit outside our hut for a while?”

“It’s a nice night, I don’t see why not,” Olive agrees, already beginning to stand. Dougie rushes up behind her and helps her with her jacket, holding out his hand for her to hold. “Come on, honey,” she smiles, before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “We can have a cuddle.”

“Perfect.”

The group makes the short walk back, Dougie not letting Olive’s hand go for a second. Every now and then, he puts it to his lips and kisses the back of it, smiling softly at the sight of their fingers linked together. Once the hut is reached, the girls rush inside and place a vinyl on the player, gesturing for one of the guys to grab a chair and prop the door open so the music can be heard from where they will sit.

“Ev, we need a record player in our rack,” Dougie says, handing a cigarette up to Olive who is sitting on his lap, his arm around her waist, holding her close to him.

“Croz has a record player,” Ev responds with a sigh, him and Val squeezing up to share a chair so they can be as close as possible to one another.

“Yeah, but he plays fancy stuff,” he laments, his free hand squeezing Olive’s waist a little more.

“What exactly is fancy stuff, Doug?” Val asks with a laugh.

“You know, opera and stuff.”

“Classical music is nice,” Val reasons to him, her eyes softly narrowing at him. “Nonna plays a lot of classical Italian at home. It’s actually quite nice.”

“Hey, Ol,” Dougie asks, nudging her a little. “What does Pearl play?”

She smiles, happy that this is a question she can answer truthfully.

“A lot of Glenn Miller in her house,” she sighs, another reminder to go back to her and reality looming over her.

“She has good taste,” Ev offers, nodding.

“Heh, yeah. She sure does.”

The four of them excitedly begin exchanging anecdotes about their families, Helen and Tattie joining them while Ev is in the middle of a story, regarding his mother and how she dealt with his rebellious behavior as a child.

“All I heard was, and it scared the life out of me, let me tell ya, was ‘Everett Ernest, if you so much as look at that vase–’”

“Wait, wait!” Olive shakes her head, wanting to make sure she heard him correctly. “Your middle name is Ernest?”

“Yes, and what of it, English?”

“I'm sorry, it's just–” she is cut off by the sound of a cackle erupting from her own throat, clutching her stomach as her eyes squeeze shut. “I didn't expect that. You don't–” she squeals, trying to compose herself. “You don't look like an Ernest, that's all.”

“Go on then, what's yours?”

“Maude,” she giggles, catching the glint in his eye as she says it.

“Maude? Jesus, Ol, that's somehow worse than Ernest!” It's his turn to laugh now, the pair of them throwing their heads back and laughing loudly into the night.

“I think it's cute,” Dougie says, sweetly tapping her nose with his finger.

“Thank you! I think so too.” Her nose wrinkles sweetly as he touches it, him mirroring her expression and pulling her into a quick peck on the lips.

Tattie lights one of the last cigarettes in the pack, passing it between the group.

Helen, the most inexperienced smoker of them all but not wanting to be the odd one out, keeps coughing at each drag she takes. The dainty little noises leave her every few seconds, her chest heaving delicately as if she were a sickly little kitten.

“Helen, doll,” Olive urges. “Put that out. You're hurting yourself!”

“I don't wanna look like the party pooper!”

“I can promise, you're not,” she laughs, gesturing with a wave of her hand to give her the cigarette, the tip covered in her lipstick. As she stubs it out, she sees four men round the corner, all of them wide eyed and seeming to be taking in their new surroundings. Val looks up with a grin and waves, beckoning them over while Helen visibly swoons at the sight of the thin, dark haired pilot.

“Ohhhh,” Olive says, knowingly. “That'll be Nash, then.” Helen simply giggles, tucking an invisible strand of her behind her ear. “There is no hair loose, my girl,” Olive guffaws, shaking her head.

“Ol, come meet the new fellas!” Valencia calls, three of the four in front of her. Nash had made his way over to Helen without a hello, his target clear from the moment he'd seen her leaning against the wall of the hut.

“This is Robert,” Val begins. “Speas here is Nash's co-pilot and…where's he got to?”

“I'll give ya three guesses,” the round faced blond man perks up, eyebrows wiggling.

“That was fast. He's keen.”

“Sure is. Sorry, Miss…?” he says, looking at Olive.

“Lewis. Olive Lewis.”

“No way!” he gestures to himself, patting his chest three times in a fit of excitement. “Pappy Lewis!”

“Oh, what?!” she squeals, clutching on to his arm. “I mean,” she stutters. “It's a pretty common name, Pappy.”

“Never met a Brit with the same one before though. Truth be told, never met a Brit til just now.”

“It's your lucky day. A Brit and a long lost cousin,” she jokes, stubbing out the last of her cigarette.

“Oh! You're right! Hey, Rosie!” he calls over to him, not realizing he's still stood right next to him so he almost deafens the curly haired pilot. “Came all the way to England to find my cousin!”

“Pappy, she's not–”

“Long lost cousin Olive,” he says, pulling her into a hug. Olive pulls away as he loosens his grip on her, platonically grabbing his arm to lead him over to Ev and Dougie. Olive catches sight of Everett talking in hushed tones to Dougie, his hand on his shoulder. Ev is carrying an expression that's rarely seen, his brow softly furrowed and his body squared up as if to cover Dougie’s from where he is sat. The pair seem to be speaking softly, Ev obviously talking Dougie down from a mood that hasn't been apparent thus far. Olive worries, instantly trying to break the ice between them and her new friend. She rifles in her pocket and pulls out the box of cigarettes, somehow hoping that a simple gesture will give some ease to the surrounding atmosphere.

“Smoke?” she offers to Pappy as they reach the two men. “You guys have–”

“We've met,” Dougie says sharply, taking the last pull of his Lucky Strike as he stands.

“Doug…” Everett urges, gesturing for him to sit back down. Olive can clearly see Dougie’s neck tightening, a vein beginning to pop out on his forehead. His face is covered with a thin sheen of sweat, him wiping at his brow quickly as Olive takes in his expression, her eyes full of concern.

“Excuse me, Pappy,” she says, placing herself in front of James. “Honey,” she soothes. “What's up?”

“Nothing,” he replies, his voice meek and quiet. “It's nothing.”

“You wouldn't be acting like this if it was nothing.” She puts a hand on his face, before raking her fingers through his dark hair. “Come on, come with me.”

She links her fingers with his and takes him to a quieter spot, the back of the hut where they can't be seen. Instantly, she crosses her arms and shakes her head, as if to urge him into telling her what's going on. “Well?”

“I need you to know I'm not mad,” he begins, his eyes stuck on a spot on the pavement below. “I just…I get uneasy sometimes.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Someone - an old girlfriend - stepped out on me. Was unfaithful and I don't–”

“My goodness. I could never. I would never.”

He sighs, the back of his head against the wall as he breathes out. “I just need to know you're my girl.”

“Oh, James,” she mollifies, lifting his chin to have him look at her. “I'm your girl.”

“What if you change your mind?” He sounds so unlike himself, his voice, so small and meek, barely above a whisper as it cracks just a little.

“I will never change my mind. D'you hear me?” He nods, his blue eyes suddenly swimming. “Never, ever. However long you want me for, at least.”

“Oh, I'm planning on a really long time.”

“Good,” she smiles, pulling him closer to kiss her. “I'm yours. Okay? And when you feel ready, you can tell me the whole story.”

“Okay.” The deep breath he seems to have been holding escapes him, Olive seeing his chest collapse a little with relief. He smiles at her, gently stroking her face. “Hey, you think we can sneak in and do some more reading?”

“No chance of that, darling,” she says, nodding towards the group still outside. “But I’m sure we can read here for a little bit. Maybe a bedtime story, hm?” She grins at him, and he catches a cheeky glint in her deep brown eyes as she kisses him, open mouthed and firm. He gently pushes her against the wall, her opening her legs slightly to accommodate his lean body pressing on hers. Gentle moans pass between their mouths as they kiss, pushing their tongues together, trying to find a moment to breathe. His hand gently strokes down her neck, her eyes squeezing further shut to bite off a groan that’s trying to escape from her throat. It’s when he softly presses his fingers on the area he is holding that the moan crawls from her mouth and into his, him laughing on her lips in return.

“You’re fresh, James Douglass,” she murmurs, his lips capturing hers again as the hand eases its grip. She finds his bottom lip with her tongue and gently nibbles, her hands finding themselves in his hair, softly gripping his hair and mussing it, the pomade slightly sticky upon her fingertips. She doesn’t care. All she cares about is the man in front of her, his mouth moving and working upon hers as if he never wanted to kiss another woman this way ever again. She shivers at his touch, the hairs all over her body standing on end as he plants soft kisses on her jawline and neck, making Olive quietly moan, her warm breath condensating in the dark, starry evening.

“Can we say goodnight like this all the time?” he mumbles into her skin, his tongue finding her jugular.

“Yes please,” she whines, her hips bucking into him as she goes to grab him once again. “And good morning, good afternoon, good evening…” her voice drifts off as he presses his lips to hers again, silencing her. He teasingly breaks away as she gasps, sighing in frustration. She catches sight of him in the moonlight and cackles for a second, his kiss-swollen lips covered in her lipstick. A familiar voice booms over the whole base, shocking the couple slightly. “The light was on. Everyone get back to your racks,” followed by a very stern “James Douglass. Bed. NOW!”

“I’m beginning to think we need to find better hiding spots,” Olive says, rolling her eyes.

“Come on,” he whispers, pulling her off the wall. “They’ll be wondering where we got to.”

“Oh, I think they’ll know. Come here, love,” she says, pulling a spare handkerchief from her pocket. “You need this.”

“Do I look pretty?” he pouts, leaning forward to get her to clean his face.

“Always, doll,” she reassures, touching his nose with her own. “There,” she nods, not a smear of lipstick to be seen. “They’ll never suspect a thing!”

The two round the corner, still giggling from their little tryst as they catch Val smiling sweetly at them. She gives them a little wave as she makes her way into the hut, leaving the door open for Olive. The lull of the night surrounds them as they quietly bid one another goodnight. A sweet kiss planted on her lips makes her toes curl. He kisses her cheeks, her nose, her forehead and touches her nose with his one final time. No words are spoken; it’s as if nothing else needs to be said, the actions seeming to do the talking. She watches as he turns and walks away into the night, Olive finding herself thanking the stars above for bringing her here.

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