#hms shannon

[ltwilliammowett]

British Woolie “Embroidered Portrait of the Frigate H.M.S. Shannon”, made by a sailor, circa 1860

[ola-na-tungee]

The Fortune of War Jack's formidable spit bowl cuirass had me a little confused when I first read this scene. but of course everything probably makes sense somehow

[clove-pinks]

As the battle between USS Chesapeake and HMS Shannon raged in June, 1813, Chesapeake was blown into her opponent after a devasting carronade salvo, becoming temporarily hooked on a fluke of the British ship's anchor as the ships collided.

The Tars of Old England Triumphant, 1813 print (Old Print Shop, NYC).

In this close action, the Shannon's officers and crew boarded the enemy ship—and those in the fighting tops ran across yard arms, including midshipmen.

As Chesapeake’s sails began to fill the ship lurched forward. As her side scraped down the Shannon’s forward end her foreyard fouled Shannon’s briefly. Seeing a momentary opportunity, Midshipman John Smith stationed in the foremast fighting top, ran out over the yard followed by five of his topmen and onto Chesapeake’s foreyard. Fighting their way up into the enemy foretop they forced the Americans there to flee down the weather-side shrouds.

Seven men in Chesapeake’s mizzen top armed with muskets and a small howitzer were still causing great execution amongst Shannon’s boarders. Seeing this, Midshipman Philip Cosnahan across in Shannon’s main top began to pick them off one by one using a succession of loaded muskets passed down to him through the lubber’s hole.

— Martin Bibbings, "The Battle," in Broke of the Shannon and the War of 1812, edited by Tim Voelcker.

A model diorama of an early 19th century fighting top by Flagship Models.

[clove-pinks]

1 June 1813: Captain Broke of HMS Shannon defeats USS Chesapeake!

Captain Sir Philip Bowes Vere Broke, by Samuel Lane. During his lifetime, he was often referred to as "Broke of the Shannon", a reference to his notable command of HMS Shannon in the War of 1812. His most famous military achievement was defeating and capturing the American frigate, USS Chesapeake.

[the-delta-42]

How the Turns Table: Airfix HMS Shannon

[oysters-aint-for-me]

idk when to call it “ghosting” or if that even applies if you’ve only talked online, but this hinge girl has stopped talking to me after maybe like a week of messaging, to which i’m like…oh well. tbh i’m probably not ready for anything even approaching dating. it’s weird though that i’m feeling kinda bummed instead of relieved—which is how i think i would have felt a year ago if the same thing happened. actually a year ago i wouldn’t have even tried talking to her. so it’s probably a good sign that i managed to talk to her for a while. it’s probably a good sign that i was at all interested in someone. it shows im still capable of being interested, which i didnt think i was until now, so there’s that.

[rebeccasjack]

………y’all think we was ever getting flashbacks (and they ended up scrapping it to prioritize the ensemble) or do u think no it was not on the table at ALL even in original scripts cause they didn’t think to do it……..in this. childhood……..friends……….to lovers story 😭😭😭😭

[heathcliffgirl1847]

highlights of my job include my coworker saying "you like boats right?" and handing me this coin and me being able to explain the context since blorbo from my book was there. yep i know this ship because im smart. no other reason

[gigginox]

so im assuming its beatrice whos talking thru maria but why her.

[altschmerzes]

working on my little story at the airport…..

(taking notes for a scene that’s been percolating in my head, a post-2x08 equivalent scene and. man. need to get this down bc now that ive thought of it im like. Oh Yeah, It’s All Coming Together.)

[ltwilliammowett]

1st June 1813: The battle between USS Chesapeake and HMS Shannon, by Jenny Morgan (1942-)

[cranberrymoons]

buck in season 2 with the hindsight of knowing he is 100% for sure confirmed bisexual is like. Insane. like this is a man who is flailingggggg he is in the most desperate pathetic rebound phase the world has ever seen. he is sad and soggy and alone. he is getting so horny over his new coworker’s abs that he tries to beat him up about it. and then he finds out this hot guy has a kid and literally trips over his own feet to yell about how much he loves kids too and it’s like. Since When buck 😭 literally since when do you love kids!!!!!! like sure NOW i know you love kids but until this moment have you ever even cared about kids? and then before maddie even meets eddie for the first time, buck has already blabbered about him so much that she’s like “you have a crush on him.” out loud, she says that on screen to his face. and buck just blushes and laughs. and then she DOES meet eddie and buck immediately puts his foot in his mouth by word vomiting about how hot eddie is the second eddie and chim are out of earshot. and then eddie and shannon start sleeping together again and buck is so fixated on it he talks about it to everyone. and peeks over eddie’s shoulder when he’s facetiming her. and complains to chimney about it. and while this is going on they get mistaken for a married couple when they’re out together with chris, and buck just smiles and says thank you. meanwhile he tries hooking up with taylor and is like ehhhhhhhh idk i’m just not feeling it. goes on like three dates with earthquake alli and is like no not this either. hm. and it’s like buck. this is humiliating behavior. please stand up.

[clove-pinks]

War of 1812 Wednesday: A Glorious First of June

I periodically bring up Sir John Franklin’s status as a War of 1812 veteran, but I have assumed that it’s more of a piece of trivia than anything else—a footnote in his career even if he took a bullet to his shoulder as part of raiding party at the Battle of Lake Borgne. 

Franklin was a midshipman on HMS Intrepid during the circumnavigation of Australia, he was at the Battle of Trafalgar in the thick of the action (narrowly missing a French sniper’s bullet), and of course he became famous for his polar exploits long before the 1845 Franklin Expedition. I didn’t think that Franklin would be dwelling much on the War of 1812, especially not late in his career in the 1840s. But I was wrong!

Invitation card to a ball aboard HMS Erebus and HMS Terror, hosted by James Clark Ross and Francis Crozier, 1841 (Derbyshire Record Office).

Sir John Franklin was Lieutenant Governor of Van Diemen’s Land when Erebus and Terror wintered there in 1841, and of course he attended the ball. Although the date of 1st June appears to be a coincidence and not selected for any special significance, noted Franklinheads @explorersaremadeofhope @kljjfnotes​ and Olga Kimmins of The Thousandth Part brought it to my attention that it acquired a Glorious First of June title.

The usual “Glorious First of June” in the Royal Navy is the Fourth Battle of Ushant in 1794, but Sir John Franklin had a different battle in mind:

[all the company continued standing while the national anthem was performed by the full Band. The next toast in succession by Captain Ross was “His Excellency the Lieutenant Governor,” to which Sir John Franklin responded, by observing that the day set apart for the festive occasion by Captain Ross, was one that Englishmen might well be proud; it was the anniversary of one of the most splendid naval victories that adorned the pages of our history—it was a day rendered historical by the battle of the Shannon and Chesapeake—and it was also a day considered sacred to science by the discovery by the gallant officer who had proposed his health, of the North Magnetic Pole.]

Franklin hears the first of June and immediately goes to HMS SHANNON VS. USS CHESAPEAKE?! I was not expecting that at all, and have give Franklin more credit for his taste.

The celebrated engagement during which H.M.S. “Shannon” captured the American frigate “Chesapeake”, 1st June 1813, Thomas Whitcombe (Wikimedia Commons).

[eddiegettingshot]

Yay your post … its so annoying because really chris did not leave because he wants to live in texas. He left because he felt betrayed by the person he trusted most and was probably freaked out about kim and her being in LA. And maybe a bit he wanted to feel connected to the time his family (eddie/shannon/him) spent in el paso. But at no point has chris actually expressed a desire to move to texas specifically and permanently. Eddie just assumes chris wants to stay because hes building a life there, and helena and ramon assume chris wants to stay because they think they are better parents for chris than eddie is. which is where they are wrong… as long as eddie is willing (which like. He has been willing for all of chris’s life. Hes always loved being a dad even when it scared him.) the best option for chris will always be his own dad, no matter how many mistakes eddie makes. And tbh chris is a teenager most teenagers probably do not spend their time considering things like hm which city would I like to live in. Or hm I feel like making a big move again. because parents are usually the ones who choose that as the providers. And so I doubt chris would even consider wanting to move back to LA or consider if he is ready to do that unless he is presented with an opportunity to consider it. Which helena and ramon are doing the opposite of by building him a pool and signing him up for 27 clubs. Which at least eddie moving will make chris consider if he actually wants to stay in el paso. Which considering that chris’s entire formative life has been in LA… I doubt it? Unless hes (fairly) too freaked out by kim, which in the show seems like an unlikely direction for them to take. And its sooo hypocritical because the diazes moved chris to texas under the premise of chris’s (13yo) autonomy which was a choice chris made on the foundation of the relationship eddie has worked hard to maintain between his parents and chris despite eddie hating his parents lowkey. But the diazes will not afford chris the same autonomy by even asking him simple things like hey how do you feel about your dad. Do you miss LA. sigh

exactlyyyyyyy!!!!!! and especially if you think about the deleted scene like this was very much about chris losing his mom in addition to eddie hurting him. chris is fundamentally incapable of thinking about the situation the way an adult would, he has no sense of the long-term or of the ramifications of what's happening, like it is completely on eddie's parents to be doing this work and they're NOT.

and actually i'm glad you brought up the fact that parents are the ones who make decisions about where to move because this has been on my mind since yesterday due to the discourse... objectively eddie would be well within his rights to choose to move himself and chris to texas for whatever reason he saw fit even if chris weren't mad at him 😭 like superficially this is the least weird part of the situation to me and he hasn't even actually decided to do it yet

[wexhappyxfew]

hey shannon!!!! from prompt list 3 & the action category - “intervene” with kennedy and bucky, but kennedy is the one doing the intervening/defending him????!!! HELP - @softspeirs

KATIEEEE!!!!!! @softspeirs i am *here* i am *back* and we are here with a kennedy x bucky prompt that had me lowkey losing my mind w/this piece half-written months ago and me now just finally having the time to finish it up. the pure EXCITEMENT of this prompt with kennedy and bucky, kennedy's reactions, bucky's reactions and their dialogue....oh i was absolutely losing it. definitely one of my longer ones i think, but it came out just as i was hoping (and probably better). also the scene inspo for this hit me even before your prompt and when you sent this in - oh i was SO EXCITED. so i sincerely hope you enjoy!!! :D

flak-happy

(a/n): kennedy x bucky (pre-stalag, pre-anything-that-happened-in-the-stalag lmao). i fear we enter bucky: the definition of yearning, and kennedy: the definition of miss-repressed-emotions and oh boy does it make for the absolutely perfect combination, especially in a moment of time where things are turning rather dark and dreary and sad. oh kennedy farley you are so seen!!!! please enjoy my-return installment in the silver bullets universe!!! <3333 (he'll make it up to her, he swears)

"5-0," Kennedy said quietly, the tiny bit of newspaper in her hands something she was half-way between scorning, ripping into a million pieces, and lighting on fire, "they're trying to kill me."

"It's a baseball team, Kenny," Margie said from beside her, "the only thing actually trying to kill you are the Germans."

"But I have a helluva lot more emotional involvement to this team than the Krauts, Margie, that's the difference." Kennedy said, flipping the paper over and grumbling under her breath, "Fucking Danny Doyle - at this point, just say he's in left field 24/7, even when he's actually in left field. Can't even hit the goddamn ball."

"Okay," Vivian Ratcliff said quietly from beside Kennedy, plucking the newspaper clipping that Lieutenant Montez had gotten for her this morning from her fingers and neatly folding it up, "you need a drink. A stiff one at that." Kennedy sighed and crossed her arms between the two as they continued walking forward towards the flying club and bit back her lip.

"And I'm going to have to hear all about how the Yankees won their game," Kennedy mumbled, "please say we can open a tab?"

"Or!" Margie butted in, "Better yet, someone will already have a tab started for us." Kennedy glanced at Margie, gaze burning into the side of Vivian's head, who was currently running a hand through her short, dark curls in the hand-held mirror she was carrying with her.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kennedy asked her and Margie chuckled.

"Ev Blakely." Margie offered with a grin, "He's always putting his ViVi on his tab."

"Oh, screw off, Margie." murmured Vivian, brushing her bangs that lay wilted against her forehead, back a bit - the entirely noticeable blush that had sprung across the waist gunners cheeks and the smile poking at her lips evidently hard to ignore.

"I am not, and I repeat, not his 'ViVi', he's just a sweet thing, a gentleman," Vivian offered with a shrug of her shoulders, wiping at a smudge of her red lipstick at the corner of her mouth gently, "honestly." Margie chuckled as Kennedy sent her a glance.

"Whatever you say, Viv, but he's a real charmer that Ev Blakely," Margie said, grinning, "especially that you're ViVi to him, hm?" A small smile quirked onto Vivian's lips as she snapped the hand-held mirror shut and slid it into her pocket and offered them a slight smile.

"Shall we head in?" she asked them with a smile and a nod before stepping inside, cheeks still flaming, "It seems like we're all in need of a stiff drink." Kennedy watched as Vivian then stepped inside, nodding and smiling to a few pilots that had stepped passed her. Slowly, Kennedy glanced towards Margie who simply smiled.

"What?" Margie said with a chuckle, "It's clear Blakely's sweet on her."

Heading inside the flying club, the atmosphere was alive with both a gentle, slow song by Ella Fitzgerald, the quiet chatter of voices still about the place and the mixture of smells which combined two of the finest things on Thorpe Abbotts - cologne and alcohol.

"Beer?" Vivian offered glancing back at both Kennedy and Margie stood in the small opening between the bar area and the dance floor.

"Yeah." Kennedy said quietly, following behind Vivian with a sparing glance towards the dance floor where Judy was, more probable, to be forcing Carrie to dance than anything it seemed.

A large group of some of the pilots had gathered in front of the wooden bar, a few backs turned their way, with a few pairs of wandering eyes meeting her own. At the moment, she made rather quick and inherent eye contact with Bucky Egan. Who was staring down Colonel Harding in front of him.

Kennedy glanced at Margie and Vivian, who sent her sparing looks as she stepped closer, curious to both listen in and figure out why the look in Bucky's eyes made her stomach twist.

"Now-now who's flak happy?' Bucky asked, leaned up against the bar, a morose look drawn on to his features, eyes peering into Colonel Harding's persistent and demanding. Kennedy stepped closer, her eyes looking to Colonel Harding's face - it was a mixture of sadness, grief and evidently being somewhat drunk, but it was somewhat a sorry sight.

"Who?" Colonel Harding seemed to challenge.

"You are." Bucky said with a nod, his eyes frozen on the Colonel's gaze. There was something slightly unsettling in that split second of time - this almost far-too-large group surrounding a somewhat bitter conversation. Flak-happy; what a word. Enough to stir thoughts of death in all of them. How much it surrounded them, consumed them. Buck's half-crescent glance towards Bucky was enough for Kennedy to catch Buck's gaze and see the unfurling repent growing.

"You are." the Colonel said firmly back.

"No, you are," Bucky said, before giving a quick tap of the back of his hand on the Colonel's front pocket, "sir."

For a moment, the low drone of the music seemed to dim to a distant hum as they all stood there, eyes darting back and forth, waiting to see the reaction of the Colonel, to someone like Bucky. Notorious for his outbursts at this point, it seemed.

Kennedy watched for a moment longer, before she bit the bullet and stepped forward, directly placing herself in front of Bucky and looking right up at the Colonel, hands placed behind her back, heart pounding in her ears, praying to God above that she didn't look a fool in this moment. Whatever conversation it had been, friendly or foe or whatever other words could've been tossed around - she was having none of it.

This was for Captain Dye, to celebrate 25 missions, for people to relax a bit. Not to think about what tomorrow or the coming days could bring.

Then, the Colonel began to laugh, eyes not fully connected to the bright laughter from his lips, reaching up to place his cigar to his alcohol-laced lips. Kennedy mimicked her best impression of a laugh that she could muster in this moment without feeling in-genuine and watched as the Colonel's eyes brightened a bit.

"Good to see you, Sergeant Farley." he said and she nodded, saluting as well.

"And you, Colonel." she said and he grinned, before turning away and pointing to the guys - 'Single fillies!' he began to yell and point, people clambering and murmuring amongst one another as the rather large group began to slowly disperse.

She watched, predictable as it was, Blakely saunter up to Viv and Margie seemed to drop to her knees immediately at the sight of a tail-wagging Meatball.

In the midst of this all, Kennedy seemed to only just remember now that she had stepped between the Colonel and Bucky in this very moment and that very same Bucky Egan was now stood just behind her.

And if anything, she knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face and would poke fun at her little heroic moment of relief. She really didn't know what had compelled her to do such a thing - to step in between people that had far higher ranking than she probably ever would. But there was something on his face, that look in his eyes. Like he was distant, in a completely different time zone and realm than where he actually was.

And she couldn't remember a time when Bucky had ever looked like that.

Kennedy found that she was bracing herself as she turned around, but by that moment, as she was turning, Bucky was already watching her. It looked like a mixture between an attempt to smile on his face, and the struggle of an onboarding cold front. And her heart sunk a bit.

Maybe she was a bit stupid for that.

They barely knew each other past their Yankees and Red Sox feud and those few times they'd had conversations together - about what, she wasn't sure - she had spent the greater part of the time noticing every bit about how his eyes lit when he laughed, the crinkle of his grin, the pure sound of his voice.

For what reason she was stockpiling those images and feelings in her brain, she'd never know.

But, standing here now, it felt completely different.

Bucky was different.

"Hi, Farley." he said, voice more exhausted sounding than intended it seemed.

"Hi." she said back, noticing their closeness to each other and the eager smell of his cologne, taking the opportunity to step back.

Then she stared at him - she had no clue what to say.

For the first time in months, she didn't have a clue what to say to him - to explain whatever that had been, to try and chalk it up.

Yeah, she had no clue.

"You alright?" she said him, before scratching the back of her neck.

"Doing the best I can, yourself?" He was bored of this conversation already, he was done with it - say something, say something. But when she took the chance to actually go to open her mouth, she noticed his eyes were far-off, looking past her shoulder.

Slowly, she took a glance and noticed all he was staring at were the people - the couples, the duos - dancing with each other. Kennedy looked back towards Bucky again and found his eyes trained on her again.

"You dance at all, Farley?" he asked her, leaning back up against the bar, the broad stretch of his shoulders enough to fill her entire birds-eye view, enough to make her cheeks tint to annoying pink.

"I regret to inform you that it is quite possibly the last thing you want me to do."

"Really?" Bucky asked with a wry chuckle, smirking at her, "Well, isn't this new. Thought Kennedy Farley was good at damn-near everything." Kennedy looked at him an tilted her head.

"Well, I don't know whether to take that as an insult or compliment, but I'm afraid that growing up my mother put me in ballet and in turned into a complete mess of me on stage - so no, I don't." she said, crossing her arms, suddenly wanting to get herself out of this conversation as quickly as possible.

"I'm intrigued," Bucky said, tilting his head slightly and nodding to her, "tell me more. Ballet, huh?"

"It was like a chicken on a balance beam, alright? I'm sure you could've done better than me-" Bucky chuckled at her mid-sentence.

"Were you really that bad?" he asked her, "I don't believe you."

"Wouldn't be the first time." she murmured and he raised a brow, "This typically would be the time where I ask the same question back, but I've seen you dance and well….clearly know you dance so…." Bucky let out a barking laugh and hung his head for a moment before looking back up at her.

"Well, Kennedy Farley, dancing is a whole lot more than just some stupid ballet classes your Mom put you in when you were a kid, alright?" he said, pushing off from the bar counter and stepping forward. Kennedy look up at him as he stepped closer and equally stepped back.

"What are you doing?" she asked him as he stepped in front of her, managing a small smile.

"Dancing." he said, "With you."

"You can't be serious-"

"Oh, I'm serious!" he said, reaching forward to take her right hand in his, adjusting his other hand to her waist. It was honestly a mixture of feelings, intoxication and his cologne that suddenly made her feel slightly insane.

"Bucky-"

"Nah, nah, you're fine, look at you," he said as they slowly started to sway back and forth, "you're a natural." Kennedy looked up at him, feeling every inch of her hand pressed into his, his other hand on her waist.

"Well, if we're doing this, then you oughta tell me what Colonel Harding was talking about when I came up to you all." she said, watching as his eyes darted to hers and his grip tightened.

"Maybe another time." he said tilting his head to the side, to which she raised a brow.

"Oh, no, no, no, I saw that look on your face-"

"Farley-"

"Major Egan." she said, pausing and looking up at him expectantly. It seemed to work. Bucky watched her, his grip tight on her hand and pouted his lips a bit.

"The war. In the air." Bucky said quietly, tilting his head to the side, "Guess you can say it's making people go crazy."

"Quite the observation." Kennedy murmured and Bucky let out a huff, "Well, why was he addressing you. I mean….sorta front and center there-"

"He thinks it's starting to get to me." Bucky said quickly, pausing as she peered up at him again, watching his eyes under the dimmed yellow lights of the flying club.

Kennedy felt her heart stammer for a moment as she looked up at Bucky - there was still that distant look in his eye, but something else that craved and yearned for touch and connection and possibly something else she couldn't quite decipher. She believed that was all anyone in this war wanted - when the battle was done, when the flight crews were back at base, sweat and grease-stained faces, eyes hazy and glazed. All people wanted was someone else to get it, to understand them and hold them and tell them that maybe things were going to be okay.

But, with Bucky, with their separation of rank and about a million other things, she quite honestly, was at a loss for words.

"You?" she instead asked quietly. Bucky watched her, face unchanged.

"Yeah." he said quietly, almost ashamed, "A trip to London would probably do me some good, don't you think?" Kennedy watched him - he wanted this. He agreed with the Colonel. Bucky wanted this.

"If that's what you want-"

"I think the Colonel was really onto something, Farley." Bucky said, stopping her mid-sentence, "Doing those missions. Over and over. I feel like I'm going crazy." Kennedy felt like she couldn't even hear the music anymore, she didn't even realize how close they were into each other's hands and arms, she didn't even realize the tick of desperation in Bucky's voice. Like he was alone in the dark, trying to grasp onto something.

"Bucky." Kennedy said quietly, watching as he sighed and shook his head, dropping her hand, removing his, rather warm, hand from her waist and stepping back.

"Sorry." Bucky said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair before turning back to the bar and finishing what was left of his drink, before looking at her again, "I shouldn't have said a damn thing. Freak you out when you're trying to relax. I'll…" Bucky watched her and sighed, before stepping around her, "I'll see you around."

Kennedy stood there, the flash of his body disappearing from in front of her, the hint of sweat, beer and cologne trailing as she turned to look over her shoulder and found him moving right out of the room.

Kennedy's heart was in her throat - a mixture of feelings of not knowing what Bucky would do next, especially being alone and if this was making her suddenly want to do anything she could to help him.

So, she did the only thing a Farley would do. She hurried after him. She kept her eye on his form as he hurried out and into the cool night air.

Stepping outside she looked over and found him stood at the edge of the road, against the lick of grass that spread between the barracks and looked towards the dark airfield.

"You know, it really isn't the nicest thing to leave a girl hanging on the dance floor," Kennedy started, walking towards him, a slight smile on her face, "especially if she just told you how much she really didn't like dancing." She tried to joke about it, but she just watched Bucky's shoulders drop the slightest bit instead as he ran his hand again over his hair to hang on his neck.

"Sorry, Farley," Bucky said quietly, "I just, I don't want to rope you into this, right now." Bucky said, motioning to himself. Kennedy raised a brow.

"Rope into what, Bucky, I'm right here." Kennedy said watching his back and crossing her arms, "Quite frankly, you just told me you think you're going crazy from it all and downed the rest of your drink. And probably are slightly buzzed. So. I will rope myself into this." Kennedy eyed the few newer airmen walking by them. "Sir." Bucky glanced over his shoulder at her and she simply stared back.

If he wanted her to be scared of this side of him, it would have to take a whole lot more for her to disappear, for her to run.

This Bucky she almost liked. Where he wasn't putting up the facade, the mask, the strong-front that showed he was fine.

Because no one was fine when their job was trying to just beat the odds and survive.

"Farley-"

"Bucky." she said and she watched as he stared at her. He grew quiet.

Slowly, she stepped closer and moved to stand there beside him. Glancing upwards, she found him, looking far off again towards the darkened tarmacs with B-17s.

There was something about standing there in damn-near total silence with him. It was so unlike any other version of the Bucky Egan she'd met, but in this moment, she hoped that this was exactly what he needed.

Someone to be there, but to stand in this silence with him.

Away from the music and the drinks and the B-17s and the bullets.

Away from it all.

All to simply realize he was alive, and on the ground and standing on his own two feet.

"To get in one of those planes again," Bucky started quietly, "I can't….it's hard. To do that. Again and again." Kennedy looked up at him, her face drawn into one of concern and worry.

"I know." she said quietly, watching his eyes as he glanced at her, "It scares me. Every time without fail. After what had happened with Birdie and then Margie those few months ago. The thought? Jesus, I didn't want to have to leave solid ground." Bucky watched her for a moment.

"You don't give off the impression that you're scared, Farley," Bucky said quietly, "always thought you were one of the strongest we got." Kennedy managed a genuine smile up at him.

"Thanks, Bucky." she said - genuinely - she figured people didn't see that often, so she could appreciate when someone like Bucky told her that. He managed a slight smile at her words.

"Would you go to London?" he asked her and she felt her face change into one of slight surprise and near-joking. She offered him a look, one where she almost burst out laughing.

"Me?" she asked him and he nodded, "No, no….probably not." She looked at him again and almost nervously laughed.

"Silver Bullets needs me. And for the moment, despite everything, I'd rather let that trip go to someone else, who needs it more." Like you, she thought quietly. She looked at him and found his face saddened a bit and offered a shoulder bump.

"Go to London. Take the trip." she said softly, "Take some time to relax." Bucky looked at her, his eyes aching to watch hers it felt as she stared at him.

In another world, she would've said she'd loved to go to London - she always heard about London as a kid; Buckingham Palace, the guards in their uniforms, the city streets, all of it. But for now, she didn't need it. She was fine.

"Well….I only asked because…" Bucky cleared his throat, "Buck sorta denied my offer and I figured, well, since you and just about everyone else also need a break, figured I'd offer to come. With me." Kennedy looked up at him, her cheeks flamed in the darkness and she hoped the fact the moon was covered by clouds, covered her obvious shyness.

"Oh." Kennedy said quietly, her eyes wanting to leave Bucky's but whole-heartedly refusing. In her mind, she told herself that he could tell something was most definitely wrong with her, with her blubbering and lack of words and shock and nervousness. But instead he offered a slight smile her way.

"I mean," she started, a small laugh escaping her lips, "you're….you're a Major, Bucky, and I'm just, I'm a Sergeant. And we're from different planes. And it'd be…I don't know, people, they'd say stuff-"

"Farley," Bucky said, "we're…..friends, ya know, it'd just be us two. As….friends." And even she wasn't convinced of his words in that moment and suddenly she felt hot all over and the thoughts in her mind were enough to force her to look away from Bucky in an instant. She looked forward again over the field of B-17s in the darkness and swallowed her shaky breaths.

"Farley, I…" Bucky started, before clearing his throat, "I just…I think I'm drunk. Just, ignore me-"

"Okay." Kennedy said quickly, looking over at him and nervously meeting his gaze with a nod, swallowing sheepishly as she looked up again to his eyes, "I-"

She really couldn't get herself to speak properly at the thought. Of Bucky. Her head felt light, her cheeks hot, her body hot, her thoughts a jumbled mess.

He was drunk, she told herself, he was drunk and wouldn't remember this and she could go back to being brazen and bold and stubborn with him.

Not this mushy, genuine and sweet part of herself that she rarely showed a soul.

Looking at Bucky, suddenly her mind went into a frenzy at the thought of the two of them, in a room together, in London - how awkward it would be!

She'd take the bed closest to the window, he'd take the one closest to the door and she'd have to hear his every breath as he fell asleep and his snores through the night.

And she'd have to wake up and he'd see her exhausted and barely awake and exceptionally grumpy.

And then he'd say something about how she reminds him of the pigeons on the streets in the city and she'd launch her shoe at him.

And then she'd feel embarrassed having to get ready and knowing he's right in the other room.

And - no, it was too much. Because what if they just happened to ignore it all and she allowed herself to feel these feelings that made her feel sick to her stomach - no. She looked away from him and suddenly wanted to be alone.

No, let him go to London - get the drinks, get the girls, and she'll keep her mouth shut.

Because he was right - they were just two people, barely even friends, who happened to know each other and have strong opinions about baseball. No, she wasn't going to say a thing.

"I'll make it up to you then someday, Farley - the dancing," Bucky said before patting her shoulder gently and letting out a low whistle, "I'm off to barracks. Figured I need to shut up before I keep letting my mouth yap, ya know?" Kennedy slowly looked over at him, sticking his hands in his pockets and giving her a wide smile - one between a forced and slightly buzzed grin and a genuine one.

"I'll let you know how London is, okay?" he said and she nodded, tying herself directly to where she was standing so she wouldn't convince herself to follow him again.

"Okay." she said and he smiled wider and then mock-saluted to her before turning away.

"I'll be seeing you, Farley." he said and as he staggered down the path, her own heart thumping inside her chest she shut her eyes and let out a breath before crossing her arms tighter across her chest.

She couldn't have said anything better? Come up with better words? A better send-off and good-bye? Should she have taken the offer?

No, no, no, no. Nope.

And with that, Kennedy turned and moved right back into the flying club and ordered as strong a drink she could get at this time of night.

[rested-shaved-coffeed]

USS Chesapeake, 38, looking particularly handsome under a pyramid of canvas. Painting by F. Muller (early 20th century).

Launched in Portsmouth, Virginia, in 1799, she was one of the original six frigates of the United States Navy authorized in the Naval Act of 1794. She saw service in the Quasi-War with France and the First Barbary War before being involved in two famous run-ins with the Royal Navy. First, in 1807, HMS Leopard, 50, ran down, fired on, and boarded the Chesapeake to impress Royal Navy deserters, despite the US and Great Britain being at peace. Then, in 1813, now at war, the Chesapeake famously sailed out of Boston harbor to fight a single-ship action with the blockading HMS Shannon, 38, and was captured, breaking the Royal Navy’s streak of defeats in single-ship actions with the Americans. She then had a brief career as HMS Chesapeake before being decommissioned in 1819.

Also has a special place in my heart as a Marylander 🌊🦀🌊