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blakelysco-pilot · 4 months

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The Way I Am

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

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

The realities of war begin to dig their way under the skin of the men and women at Thorpe Abbotts, leaving some with more on their shoulders than they'd care to carry. New and existing friendships help to brighten a dark day, while Val and Everett admit truth's they can only say to each other. Featuring @winniemaywebber's Olive Lewis from the Honeysuckle Rose series.

Part Two Follow along with the Eight To The Bar Playlist

Non-mision days were, naturally, a favorite of those who lived on Thorpe Abbotts airbase. A lot of the boys would still go up for practice missions, but it would leave a lot less what-if’s and nerves on the ground because the Luftwaffe was nowhere to be found, and the only thing they needed to worry about was taking off and landing safely. Those days, the Red Cross girls would still set up the Clubmobile for the boys, greeting them with coffee and donuts and a friendly smile as they trekked out to the hardstand. Today, almost all of the boys were going up on a practice run. They had already seen Brady and the M’lle Zig Zig crew, Bucky and the crew of Mugwump, followed directly by Buck Cleven and Our Baby. Benny DeMarco had lingered at the truck, the pilot infatuated with the newest Red Cross girl, Olive. Olive had seemingly come out of nowhere, according to Tattie, but the girls had wasted no time at all in taking her in, despite her accent and dry British humor, she fit in like a missing puzzle piece amongst them.

When Benny had asked if the girls would be willing to keep an eye on Meatball while they went up for practice, Olive was first out of the truck to greet the husky. Val suspected it was so that he didn’t actually go inside of the truck and make a mess of things like he somehow tended to do. When he got restless, Olive had offered to take him for a walk, and since it had been quiet, Val had ushered Helen off as well to keep Olive company. Tattie had taken the jeep to go pick up supplies for the truck on the other side of the base, which left Val alone.

“You running the show alone today?”

Val looked up from where she was reading her copy of Screen Romances to find Ev and Douglass standing in front of the Clubmobile. Dougie’s hands on his hips, a wide smile stretching across his mouth.

“Is my favorite Flyboy and his bombardier bringing up the rear today?” She smiled upon seeing them, her gaze immediately finding Everett’s from behind his aviators.

“Just coffee if you can spare it, Val.” Douglass requested, politely declining the donut she had pointed to.

“Oh, it’s okay for me to make you coffee again? I don’t need to go find Olive for you? She teased, already moving to pour him coffee from the carafe. Benny DeMarco wasn’t the only one who had taken a shine to Olive.

“I saw her on my way over,” He shook his head, but the smile remained. “She was with Helen and Meatball.”

“DeMarco asked us to keep an eye on him while you boys went up today, so the two of them took him for a walk.”

Val reached through the hatch with his coffee, the handoff seamless as he accepted the coffee, the cup immediately coming up to his lips.

“You’ve got the magic touch, Val.” He hummed, eyes closed in satisfaction.

“I won't tell Olive you said that.” She rolled her eyes with a shake of her head as he gave her a half hearted salute and cheeky smile, before turning and heading towards the hardstands.

Everett remained by the truck, flight gear and sheepskin jacket making him look every bit the pilot that she knew him to be. He was squinting up at her in the early morning sun, sunglasses now hanging from the pocket of his jacket. Even with his crush cap on, the sun was in his eyes. He looked like a little boy when he did that, and Val couldn’t help but find him utterly adorable.

“Coffee for the road, handsome?” She grinned, holding a cup up, nodding her head towards the back of the truck where the doors were open.

He smiled and moved around, meeting her at the back and stepping up on the first step, as she came to stand in front of him.

“Hmm did you make it the way I like it?”

“You mean, did I leave it black? Yes, Everett, I did.”

“Someone woke up on the sassy side of the bed this morning.” He watched as she pulled her hand back, holding the coffee away from him.

“This is going to cost you, Captain.” She grinned.

“Oh yeah? How much then, Miss Val?”

“Hmmm I’m thinking it’s at least worth a good morning kiss.”

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I refused payment?”

Stepping up one more step, he came as close as he could so she wouldn’t have to lean down, and gently, carefully, dropped a hand to her waist to steady her before planting his lips on hers. The kiss was quick, but not without feeling. The pair were very much aware that they were on working hours when he was flying and she was at the truck, so they tried not to get too carried away. But, still, he hated to go up if only for practice, without giving her a proper goodbye.

“Payment accepted.” Val grinned as they parted, her hand falling to rest over his that remained on her waist, the other handing over his coffee before she spilled it.

“Thank you,” His smile was wide as he took the cup from her hand, taking a sip and sighing as the liquid warmed him. “Perfect.”

“I don’t see how, there’s nothing in it!” She eyed his coffee skeptically.

“I wasn’t talking about the coffee, sweetheart.”

“Oh, well, in that case I’m inclined to agree with you.”

He was about to reply when Douglass appeared around the back of the truck, head sticking out from behind where the doors were open, just over Everett’s shoulder.

“Not that I’m not enjoying getting to drink my coffee but, we can’t get moving without the pilot, pal.”

“Dougie, you have the worst timing.” Ev sighed, shaking his head as Val laughed at the pair. Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder if they were the couple and she was just third wheeling.

“Go on,” She urged him, stepping down from the truck to guide him towards where he needed to be. “You have to fly and I need to clean up here.”

“I’ll see you later, yea?” He dropped a quick kiss to her cheek just to see her smile again.

“Yes, either after you get back or at the club later with the girls. Now, be safe up there, okay?”

“You have my word.” He nodded.

“You have mine, too!” Douglass joined in.

“Christ sake,” She shook her head. “Both of you get a move on, I don’t want to hear Harding bellowing about how I held you up.”

At that, both boys turned, coffee in hand, and made their way to the hardstand to prep for their practice mission.

Climbing back into the Clubmobile, she began to clean up what she could; covering the donuts with a towel, and wiping down the counter so that it was free of any spilled milk or sugar. Once she was satisfied, and knew Tattie would be too, she promptly parked herself back in front of her magazine to pick up where she left off.

“Jeez, Val, don’t look so busy!”

Looking up she found Jack Kidd and Chick Harding, the taller of the men giving her his signature sarcastic scowl, which she was always happy to return. Ever since Bucky had been demoted from Air Exec, Jack seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face with most of the men. He had tried, once, to use it on her when he caught her and Ev saying goodbye at the truck, but Val had turned and given it back as good as she got. Jack had very quickly learned that while Tattie was in charge of the Red Cross girls, Val was the muscle, and if she was mad at you, heaven help the poor soul. Helen was starting to think Val and Jack just made faces at each other to see who could look meaner at this point, because it never lasted long before one of them broke and cracked a real smile.

“Wake up with a bug up your ass again, Jack?” She smirked, closing the magazine and leaning on her elbows out the hatch.

“I’m here and not home so, yea.”

“Aww, well, loosen up and I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Harding stood, amused, watching the two seemingly square off, before Val broke first, offering a genuine smile that Jack returned. At that, Chick stepped up to the hatch to get her attention.

“Valencia…”

“Chicky…”

“Jesus,” he huffed around his cigar, smoke billowing around him at her use of his unauthorized nickname. “Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, whatever you say, Chicky.”

Behind him, Kidd snickered, but quickly covered it with a cough.

“Valencia…” Harding warned.

“Fine…” It was long and drawn out. “You boys want coffee? I’ve got a few donuts left too.”

��Please,” Harding spoke, the words muffled around his cigar. “Why are you out here by yourself?”

“Helen and Olive took Meatball for a walk, and Tattie should be back any minute now. She took the jeep for supplies.”

“That damn dog get near the donuts again?” Harding tried to lift the towel she had placed over them, eyeing up the treats.

“No, he did not get near them.”

“Good, I’ll take one then.”

Shaking her head, she handed him his coffee and donut before she turned her attention to Jack. Before she could ask him what he wanted the sound of Tattie on the jeep filled the air.

“You two playing nice?” Tattie looked between Jack and Val.

“Yes, Tattie, don’t worry,” Kidd chuckled. “I know when I’m beat.”

Grinning, the brunette stepped off the jeep, the back loaded with supplies for the Clubmobile.

“Give me a second Tat and I’ll come help ya!” Val called out to her.

Nodding, Tattie grabbed the small box that had been resting on the front seat next to her and made her way into the Clubmobile, while Val finished up with the boys.

“Jack? Coffee?”

“Sure, Val, thanks.”

“Remind me again…”

“Just black.”

Nodding with a smile, Val poured him a cup, leaving it black. Plucking a donut from the tray, she handed him both, waving him off when he tried to protest at the donut.

“Go on, I can’t let them go to waste.”

“Appreciate it,” Kidd nodded. “You taking the rest out to the ground crew?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Good, those boys are working hard.”

With that, Chick and Jack gave her a wave before walking off back towards the control tower, where she had assumed Red was waiting for them. Watching them go, she quickly exited the truck and made her way to the jeep to help Tattie unload the boxes she had picked up. Helen and Olive should have been back, but knowing they had Meatball, it might have been a small blessing that they could unload the jeep without the husky getting under their feet for a bit.

“Red Cross sent more rations. Coffee and fixings to make more donuts for us,” Tattie groaned, lifting a box and walking it to the truck. “Looks like we’ve got enough sugar to get us through the next month or two at least.”

“That’ll keep the fellas happy.” She agreed.

“Nicked a few sweets for us girls, too.” Tattie winked as she stopped by the truck.

“Your last name does have its advantages.” Val laughed, giving the scarf tied around her head a quick fix.

“Mhmm, and you wouldn’t have been able to sweet talk the supply officer into a few Hershey bars?”

Before Val could reply, the sound of an engine far too close to where it should have been sounded above them, followed by a crash. The sound of the Land Girls screaming, and flames igniting in the trees out by the perimeter of the base caught their attention immediately, their faces turning to panic.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”

“Did you see what tail number it was?”

“No, I can’t see anything except smoke.”

“Get in the Jeep, come on.”

Tattie wasted no time jumping back behind the wheel, Val practically throwing herself into the seat beside her as they sped off to the hardstand. The fear was rising deep within her chest the closer they got, and she had to will herself to believe that Everett and his crew were not the ones ignited in flames somewhere in the trees. As if someone had their hand around her throat with no intention of letting up, she drew in ragged and uneven breaths.

“Val… deep breath doll, come on…” Tattie’s voice sounded far away, like she was underwater and couldn’t break through the surface.

“You girls shouldn’t be out here!” Ken Lemmons yelled as soon as Tattie parked the jeep by the Ground Crew.

“Kenny…” Val turned to him with wide eyes, and the nineteen year old had never seen someone he considered a spitfire, look so terrified.

“It’s Baynard and his crew.” He sighed, knowing her question before she had even asked it.

“Jesus…” The relief she felt melded with the sadness that slammed into her as she remembered handing Baynard and his Navigator their coffee that morning. He was one of the newer kids- anyone younger than her was a kid in her eyes- and hadn’t even flown a first mission yet.

“Took a turn too early and went into a dive, couldn’t pull himself out of it.”

“He was just a kid…” Val shook her head, trying to understand just how the world could be so cruel.

Tattie’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, and when Val turned to look at her friend, she noticed that she looked just as upset as she felt. The boys liked to joke that the girls could be the last pretty face they ever saw, and the reality of it seemed to hit the pair on them with the force of a thousand B-17’s.

“Tattie, let’s uh, let’s get back to the truck and let the boys uhm…”

“Yea, yea alright.” She put the jeep back into gear, and the two women sped off back towards the Clubmobile.

When they returned, the boxes they hadn’t finished unloading remained on the grass, Helen and Olive standing amongst them with Meatball eagerly sniffing at them.

“What the hell happened out there!” Olive yelled over the engine of the jeep.

“Baynard, he uh… him and his crew they…”

“Fuck sake! That was them?”

“Yea, it was them.” Val stepped out of the jeep with a sigh, immediately letting it support her body weight.

“We just saw them this morning…” Helen sighed, body slumped back against the Clubmobile.

Val could only nod, the fear that had her in a chokehold slowly beginning to subside. To think it could have been Everett, or Curt, had made her blood run cold. The idea of losing either of them was a reality she prayed to god she never had to face.

“Val? You alright?” Helen was suddenly in front of her, Val’s hand in her own, the woman trying to meet her eyes.

“Yea… just, scared shitless if I’m being honest.”

“Oh honey, I know…”

“Could have been either of them, Helen. And I’m not keen on being alone.”

“Oh chicken, you’ll never be alone. You’ve got us.” Olive joined them, taking Val’s other hand in her own, a soft smile on her face.

“I need to get used to being called chicken as a term of endearment.” Val laughed, dropping her head to Olive’s shoulder.

“There we go,” Olive grinned. “Feeling better?”

Nodding, Val pushed off from the jeep, moving to help with the rest of the boxes so that they could close up the truck and head off to the mess for lunch.

“Meatball! No!!”

The three girls looked over to where Tattie was standing, hands on her hips, as Meatball ripped into one of the boxes with his teeth.

“I’m going to kill DeMarco…” she sighed.

——————————————————————————————————

Exiting the Red Cross hut, Val and Olive were surprised to see Curt waiting outside for them. The pilot was dressed sharp, grinning from ear to ear as the girls spotted him.

“Can I walk ya to the club, Val?”

“You can; I’m hard pressed to ask what you want, Curt.”

“Honest to God, just wanna walk ya.”

“Curt?”

“Helen told me you were a bit rattled after today, and I just wanted to make sure you’re alright…”

Val stopped walking, turning to face Curt with a soft smile.

“Olive, I’ll catch up.”

“Okay,” She nodded. “I’ll save your seat.”

“Thanks.” Val turned to her friend, watching as she walked across to the club, immediately intercepted by Benny who had been waiting outside with Meatball.

Turning back to Curt, she saw him fidgeting with his sleeves before finding her gaze again.

“Curt, I’m alright. Honest…”

“Nah, I know you’re alright but, I wanted to just, double check, ya know?”

“Curt, are you alright?” His fidgeting was so unlike him that it had her worried.

“Oh sure, yea I’m just fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I gotta be alright for my crew, ya know? And for you and my Ma back home. But, sometimes, it all just feels… well, I feel it.”

“Well, it’s okay to feel it. You can admit that to me, Curt. I wouldn’t think anything less of you.”

“You’d better not, you’re my best friend.”

“Curt…” She sighed. This was usually when she’d begin to get exasperated with him. As usual.

“B’Sides… if anything happens-“

“Curt…”

“If anything happens, you gotta write to my Ma, alright?”

“Curt, how can you ask me to do that?” She whispered.

“No one knows me better than you, Val. It’s gotta be you, alright?”

“How can you put that on me, huh?”

“Just promise, would ya, ya stubborn woman!” He threw his hands up at her. “I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon, for fuck sake.”

“Fine! I promise, okay?”

“Thank you,” He grinned, but she could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. “Now come on, I think we both need a drink.”

“After what you just asked me, I need more than one.” She groaned, allowing him to toss his arm over her shoulder and guide them both to the club.

“Well I’m only buying ya one,” He looked up with a smirk. “You got Blakely now, he can buy you the second one.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Nah, I’m very believable.”

Pulling the door open, he walked Val to the table where the girls were already sitting, promising to be back with her drink. It left her shaking her head as she sat, baffled still at the conversation they’d had outside, and how he had turned on a dime from sarcastic Curt, to a scared boy right in front of her.

Turning to the girls, she noticed that Olive wasn’t with them, and knowing Benny had caught her on her way in, she wondered if him and Douglass were already vying for her attention.

“Where’s Olive? With Benny or Dougie?”

“Ladies room.”

“Okay so which one is probably waiting outside the door for her?” Val chuckled, trying to bring herself back.

“Dougie.” They replied in unison, laughing at the image of him hanging out outside the ladies bathroom.

Helen gestured behind her, and before she could ask her what she was looking at, the one voice she had been yearning to hear all day since that crash, had finally eased the anxiety gnawing at her from the inside out.

“I was starting to wonder where you were.”

“Ev…” His name came on a breath, and she turned in her seat to see him standing behind her, dapper as ever.

“I didn’t see you come in with the girls,” He rounded the table and perched himself against the arm of the chair next to her, casually bringing his drink to his lips. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, everything’s fine. Curt caught me as I was leaving the hut with Olive and wanted to talk.”

He nodded, slipping into the seat next to her with ease, his arm coming to rest around the back of her chair. His fingers gently moved over her shoulder, causing her to shiver and slide just a bit closer to him.

“You okay sweetheart?”

Shaking her head as if he had to ask why she had moved closer, she was about to give him the what for, when the other man in her life suddenly reappeared.

“Course she’s okay! She’s got a drink now!”

He carefully slid a martini glass in front of her, and she couldn’t help but notice it was missing some off the top.

“Thank you, Curt. And would you look at that, he taste tested it for me too.”

“What a guy, I know I am!” Curt beamed, not even caring that she had caught him.

“You didn’t bring one for the rest of us, Biddick?” Tattie baited him, knowing it would get a rise out of the pilot and take the heat off Val.

“My mistake, Tattie. What are you and Helen drinking this evening?”

“Rum and cola,” She replied, bringing a cigarette to her lips. “And they’re not to be taste tested.”

“Well then, I’ll be back with those.”

“Curt, why don’t you join us when you come back, yea?” Val looked over at him, and then at Ev, who nodded over at his fellow pilot in agreement.

“Yea, Biddick, you can’t leave me outnumbered here…” Ev offered, the two men sharing a silent conversation.

“Well, alright then. I'll be right back.”

Once Curt had reached the bar, Val pressed a chaste kiss to Ev’s cheek.

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“You know what for.” She grinned.

“Well, in that case, you’re welcome.”

“You two just going to gaze into each other's eyes all night, or are one of you going to go and save poor Olive, who’s been cornered at the bar.” Helen gestured to where Olive was now at the bar, Douglass, Benny and Curt, all trying to buy her a drink.

“Jesus Christ almighty, Everett, you need to keep him on a leash.” Val sighed, pushing her chair back, standing to go rescue her friend.

“Maybe we can ask Benny if he’ll lend us Meatball’s.” He called after her as she went, the two girls at the table with him laughing.

“Okay boys, that’s enough,” Val pushed through them, just enough to get to Olive’s side. “Curt, I have two very thirsty friends waiting on you at the table.”

“I was just-“

“Helen and Tattie are waiting.” She fixed him with a look, and he quickly turned back to the bar to order two drinks for the girls and a whiskey for himself.

“You two,” She turned on Douglass and DeMarco. “If you’d like to talk to Olive, come and sit with us.”

“Oh uh…”

“The table, Dougie,” Val grinned, a saccharine sweet smile stretching across her lips. “Benny, you and Meatball are welcome to join us.”

With that, she linked arms with Olive and marched her back towards the table that Everett and the girls were still occupying.

“You could rule the world, Valencia DiRosano.” Olive shook her head with a laugh.

“No, but I could certainly whip these fellas into shape.”

Neither girl had to turn around to know that all three boys were following dutifully behind them, looking more like lost puppy’s than the actual dog that was part of their little hodgepodge group.

Four Red Cross gals, three pilots, a bombardier and a husky all crowded around a table as the band played on around them. Val had slid into Everett’s lap at one point, and Meatball had dutifully taken up her empty seat for himself, paws on the table like the good boy he was, simply enjoying the people around him. If she had to admit it, he was the best behaved fella at the table. Curt was currently telling a -very animated- story from back home that included Val, and a blonde that hadn’t gotten the hint that he was uninterested.

“I ain’t never seen anything like it,” His arms flailed wildly around him, almost knocking the glass from Benny’s hand. “One minute she’s across the room, and the next, she’s got this girl by the elbow, hauling her out like-“

“Like trash, Curt. Because she was trash.” Val sniggered, pointing across the table at him while Everett held her in his lap.

“So we know who to call when we need a quick exit then, is that it?” Benny chuckled.

“Call Tattie, she’s just as good as I am.”

“Oh please! You’re the muscle, you managed to tame Kidd of that god awful scowl he’s been wearing for weeks.”

“That’s Egan’s fault,” Helen groaned. “Went and got himself demoted.”

“How exactly do you get demoted from Air Exec?” Dougie pondered, lighting himself a cigarette before it was quickly proffered by Olive, who plucked it from his fingers with a grin. “Hey!”

When she handed it back to him after taking the first inhale, no one at the table missed the slightly put out look on Benny’s face. Thankfully, they were saved by the Hundredths regimental photographer coming over to their table, camera in hand.

“You lot up for a group shot?”

“Absolutely!” Tattie grinned, maneuvering everyone so that they were all crowded together, Meatball front and center, tongue wagging in delight at all the attention. Val remained perched in Ev’s lap, her right arm wound around his neck, the left holding his that was firmly on her waist. Across from her, Dougie had pulled Olive into his lap, the blue eyed man looking rather pleased with himself. Curt had squeezed himself between Helen and Tattie, sitting on their laps, as Benny squeezed in between Val and Tattie, with Meatball.

“Alright you guys,” Joe, the photographer hollered over the band. “On three…”

He counted off, and the flash captured the moment perfectly. He took a second, just to be sure, before the group untangled themselves.

“How about you two,” He turned to Val and Everett. “Captain Blakely? Miss Val?”

“Oh! Thank you Joe!” She beamed, standing from Everett’s lap so that they could take a proper photo.

Adjusting his jacket, Everett wrapped both arms around her, holding her close as she rested one hand on his back, the other against his chest. They barely registered their friends watching, or that Joe had snapped the first photo of them simply looking at each other. When he had them turn to smile, Val felt as though she might burst; wrapped up in Everett’s arms, everything felt as it should. Her friends, the man she adored, the music around them and even Meatball. It didn’t escape her that this was the first photo they’d taken together, and she’d cherish it for the rest of her days.

“I’ll get those to you all soon as I can.” Joe had bid them farewell after taking a few more of their group. Curt was especially excited to send the picture of him and Val home to his Ma. Proof they were both alright, he had said. Val suspected he just wanted to prove she hadn’t strangled him. Yet.

“Thanks Joe!”

As he made his way to the next table, Curt stood from his spot at the table, holding his hand out to Helen, cheeky smile on his face.

“Humor a poor sap with a dance?”

“Well; you’ve been surprisingly well behaved tonight, Curt, so why not.”

She allowed him to take her hand and guide her from her chair to the dance floor, where they began to sway to the tune of the band.

Val and Tattie watched as both Dougie and Benny seemed to have the same idea, and sensing that DeMarco had sat and watched Olive with Douglass, Tattie stood from her seat, and tugged Dougie with her towards the dance floor.

“Come on, you. Let’s stretch our legs, hmm?”

“Sure, Tattie…” Dougie followed her towards the center, eyes just barely catching Benny leading Olive to the dance floor as well.

“May I?” Everett held his hand out for Val, who accepted without hesitation. Joining their friends on the dance floor, the band kept the tunes slow and romantic for a bit longer than normal. Val didn’t miss Dougie and Benny swap partners after the second song finished, the two of them remaining well behaved, lest ruin the mood of the evening for everyone.

“The pair of them are lovesick.” Everett shook his head, watching as Olive joined Dougie, and Tattie moved into Benny’s hold.

“Olive is definitely overwhelmed by it all,” Val looked up at him. “But between you and me, I think it’s Dougie who’s stolen her heart.”

“You think so?”

“She looks at him a certain way that she doesn’t when Benny comes around. I think she loves Benny but she may be falling in love with Doug.”

“Love, huh? That’s a big admission.”

“Well, when you know, you know.” Val shrugged, tucking herself back against his chest.

“Ain’t that the fuckin truth…” Ev whispered to himself, glancing down at the woman in his arms.

He’d had a feeling when he first saw her in the club that night that something had been irking her, and when she had mentioned Curt wanting to talk, he thought it had been something he had done. The two of them were constantly arguing like siblings, the occasional real disagreement popping up, but they had seemed fine at the table, so maybe it really was nothing.

“How did it go up there today?” She peeked up at him, and that’s when he saw it. The worry behind her eyes.

“That’s what’s bothering you…”

“Nothing's bothering me.”

“Please, don’t lie to me…”

“I don’t want to do this here,” Val eyed the room cautiously, before nodding towards the doors. “Take a walk with me?”

“Of course honey. Come on.”

He led her from the club, now outside in the dewy, English air. They walked hand in hand, silently, until they found a suitable place to talk without anyone hearing them.

“It’s not like me to get scared but, today…”

“You heard about Baynard.” He guessed.

“Tattie and I saw it happen.”

He hadn’t expected that she’d seen it. Hearing about these things was never easy, and the girls were all so friendly with the fellas that they began to grow attached to some of them. You remember how they take their coffee, or to ask about their sweetheart back home. Anything to bring a smile to their faces.

“Jesus…”

“We were unloading the boxes into the truck, and the next thing we saw was the tail of a fort in the trees, black smoke and fire. Fire like I’ve never seen in my life.”

“Honey…”

“I just thought…” She sucked in a deep breath, trying to focus on something, anything. Anything except for the way her chest was seizing up and her eyes were watering. “What if it had been you, or Curt. I just don’t know what I’d have done.”

“I’m so sorry that you spent all day worried.”

“Kenny told us it wasn’t you… it shouldn’t be that grief comes with relief, Ev.”

“I know,” He sighed, taking her hands in his. “I wasn’t even off the ground yet when it happened. Yet… yet I felt this odd sense of thank god. Thank god it wasn’t my crew, my friends…”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything honey.”

“Are you ever scared? Scared that you might go up one day and, and-“

“Every day,” He admitted. “Scared we’ll live the rest of our lives stuck in East Anglia, fighting this goddamn war. Scared I’ll go up and it’ll be the last time. Scared I’ll end up stuck in the Stalag while you’re here alone. Scared to break your heart most of all.”

“Everett, no…no don’t say that.”

“We could be scared together. No one else has to know.”

“Yea…yea let’s do that,” She huffed out a laugh, wiping at her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. It’s alright.”

“You weren’t supposed to see me cry.”

“No? But then I don’t get to do this.”

Carefully, he took her face in his hands, kissing away the tears that stained her cheeks. Slowly, carefully, his lips blazed a trail down her left cheek, stopping to place a kiss at the corner of her mouth before repeating the process on the right side. Once he had kissed her tears dry, and only then, did he allow his lips to find hers. Under the cover of night, he did his damndest to kiss away her fear and anything that scared her. He harbored enough fear for the two of them, and if he could ease hers just a bit, he’d do what he could.

The sound of footsteps rounding the corner, crunching against the gravel pulled them apart. They found Dougie and Benny standing there, both wearing the disappointment on their faces with no attempt to hide it.

“Ev,.” Doug sighed. “We gotta go. The light’s on.”

Part Four

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! A big huge thank you to @hephaestn for the stunning new mood board.

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

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winniemaywebber · 4 months

Text

Honeysuckle Rose • Part 4

part one part two part three

masterlist

mood board by @hephaestn

taglist: @ginabaker1666 @sagesolsticewrites @hephaestn @manonsmanicmind @derry-rain @bobparkhurst @bloodynereid

Her head leaning on her hand, her elbow on the table, Olive feels Valencia glance across at her. She has seen her eyes softening as James talks, unaware that her mouth is slightly agape. A sharp kick under the table snaps Olive out of her trance, Val shaking her head and smiling, those gorgeous red lips parting and showing her perfect teeth as she makes eye contact. “Breathe, Ollie,” she teases, as the boys engage in a conversation about something or another.

“Sorry,” Olive mumbles, awkwardly sipping her drink. “I'm not usually like this.”

“Maybe it's the booze?”

“Oh, probably. Yep, that's it. Not the most handsome man I've ever seen taking interest in me. Not that at all.”

“The most handsome, huh? Jesus, don't let him hear you say that.”

“Why not?” Olive giggles.

“He'll never fit his head through that door ever again. Not to mention us never hearing the end of it.”

“You girls wanna take a couple laps in the Jeep? Watch the sunrise?” Dougie asks, looking pointedly at Olive.

“We're all far too drunk to drive, Doug, and I ain't walking all that way,” he pauses for a moment, feeling Val's eyes focus on him. “Only walking my girl home.” The classic furrow softens immediately.

“That's what I thought, Everett. Good answer.”

“What do you say, Olive? Wanna take a walk with me?”

“Sure,” she replies, nervously. She glances over at Val, who nods towards her as Ev helps her with her jacket.

“Olive, see you tomorrow. Can you get here in time?”

“Oh, I'm sure I can,” a panic rising in her chest, hoping that somehow she was able to get back. Whether any time had passed between the two worlds, she had no idea and was terribly nervous to find out. Alas, she had to get home and check on Pearl, relieving Joan of her duties. But a few more moments with Dougie seemed so incredibly tempting that she felt herself taking his open hand and rushing out the door with him into the cold, morning air.

“You don’t have a jacket?” He asks as he sees her shiver the second the warm club is behind them.

“Didn't plan on staying this long, actually.”

He laughs a little, pulling off his own jacket. “Here,” he says, wrapping it around her shoulders. He pulls the sleeve up as she puts her arm in, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanna hold your hand.”

His hand slips into hers and they begin to head towards the hardstand. Olive, pontificating how to make a quick exit without seeming rude, is distracted from her thoughts by an orange ember coming towards her face. Holding a lit cigarette in front of her, she knows he expects her to take it in between her own fingers. Instead, she drags on it from where he holds it, not once breaking eye contact and his mouth drops open.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat, moving the cigarette back to his own mouth as soon as she has blown smoke from her lips. “Where did you grow up?”

“Here,” she smiles. “I just moved back from London.”

“London? Wow, why?”

“Oh, errm,” she stutters, trying to formulate a story that has little substance but is not a lie. “I, uh…lots of things. I had a few things not work out. My grandma took a fall just over a year ago and she needs a carer. I decided to come home and take over.”

“That's real nice of you, Ol. I'm sure she's grateful.”

“I'm sure, too. She'll never say it, she's a grumpy old girl. But, I love her. She's my pal. Taught me how to be tough and I'm thankful for that.”

“Tough, huh?”

“Mhm,” she nods, realizing they are almost at the aircraft she fell from this afternoon. “What about you?”

“Lansing, Michigan. You probably haven't–”

“Never heard of it,” they overlap, Olive giggling and instantly going to cover her mouth with her free hand.

“Hey, no. You gotta stop that.”

“Why, Dougie?”

“Because you have a pretty smile. And you shouldn't hide it, especially when it's me making you do the smiling, huh?”

A moment of silence passes between them as they reach the wing of Just A-Snappin, coming to a stop. His hand on her cheek, hers on his back. “Tell me more about Michigan,” she murmurs, their noses almost touching.

“It's real pretty,” he replies, his hand going from her cheek to her hair to move a strand that's blown in her face. “Real pretty in the fall especially.” He sighs, his thumb gently stroking her mouth. “I'll take you one day.”

“I'd love that,” she replies, moving closer. Just as their lips are about to meet, a loud, shrill horn noise is heard over the tannoy, followed by a thick accent.

“James Douglass,” it commands. “Put that girl down and get to bed!”

“Dammit, Red,” he mumbles, turning away for a second and squinting up at the tower. “I swear he has eyes in his ass, that guy.”

“Is this goodnight?” she asks, handing the jacket back.

“It is. I'm sorry. I wanted to walk ya home but–”

“Look,” she says, kissing him gently on the cheek. “The sun is rising.”

For a moment, he holds her close to him before breaking away, kissing her softly on the cheek, too.

“Goodnight, Olive,” he says, beginning to walk backwards towards his destination.

“Goodnight, Dougie.”

The second his back is turned, Olive begins to run in a full sprint towards the Red Cross Hut to retrieve her clothes. To her relief, Helen is snoring softly in the soft light of the sunrise, Val nowhere to be found. Assuming she's still with Ev somewhere around, she delicately places the dress upon her bunk, pushing out any wrinkles and creases with her hands. Pulling her shirt, overalls and boots back on, stuffing the headscarf in her top pocket, she makes a hasty exit, extremely careful to not disturb Helen. She sighs softly and turns over, causing Olive to freeze as she tiptoes towards the door. Luckily, she remains asleep, the rapid movement not waking her once.

Returning to the plane and making sure there are no eyes on her, Olive runs around to the hatch she stumbled out of earlier. Seeing it left open, she hesitates, trying to reason with herself to stay. Thoughts of how devastated Pearl would be creep into her mind, cementing the decision. With a sigh, she climbs in, somehow finding long forgotten core strength. She reaches down and shuts the door with a slam, waiting a few moments. Closing her eyes, she waits, the blazing afternoon sun coming through the windows causing her body to overheat instantly.

Sadness crawling all over her, she kicks the hatch open again, her body suddenly heavy. Jumping out much more gracefully this time, she lands heavily in her boots, the scene around her seemingly unchanged. The group of girls she had originally been with were back in their usual spot, Olive now traipsing over to them casually, trying not to be seen. Heather greets her with a smile, her absence apparently unnoticed.

“Taking a look at the plane?” She asks before the final crowd of school kids of the day make their way around the circuit.

“Something like that,” she titters, grabbing a rake. “What time is it?”

Heather raises an eyebrow as she looks at her watch, trying to gauge the time as the warm sun reflects the watch face. “Errrm, it's two pm.”

“Oh!” Olive says, surprised. Seemingly no time had passed at all.

—

“Hiya, Pearly Girly,” she greets, walking into the house. Kicking her boots off by the door, Olive begins to walk into the kitchen, reaching into the beige fridge to quickly gulp milk straight from the glass bottle that was delivered this morning.

“Hey, you,” Pearl greets, hobbling in with her stick. “Get a glass, for goodness sake!”

“I only wanted a gulp,” Olive laughs, now seeing that she'd somehow chugged half the bottle.

“Some things never change, do they? You've been doing that since you were wee.”

“Old habits die hard, Grandma. Where's Joan? Am I late?”

“No, doll,” Pearl says, shaking her head. “She's out in the garden. Funeral director called.”

“Ah, shit,” Olive replies, peeking out of the window that's shrouded by a worn net curtain. She sees Joan pacing up and down the garden path, arms crossed and face growing more furrowed each second. “I'll make her a cuppa. You want one too?”

“If there's any bloody milk left,” she teases, leaving the kitchen. Olive titters and shakes her head as her back turns, clicking the kettle on.

—

Pearl and Olive sit opposite one another, sipping from their mugs despite the boiling hot weather outside.

“So, good first day? How did you like it?”

“Oh, I loved it,” Olive replies, a huge smile on her face. “I met some really nice people. Red Cross girls, took me under their wing and–” Olive pauses, realizing what she has said, seeing Pearl’s confused face. It settles in an instant, the ringing in Olive's ears subsiding as she sees her face return to normal.

“I used to love their jumpsuits. The headscarves they'd wear through the day while their hair was setting for a night at the club. I was always envious. There I was, sweating, beetroot red with a rake and overalls, while they were there looking all glamorous, handing out coffee and donuts to these handsome men. I would've traded places in an instant.”

Olive giggles. “I don't blame you, Pearly. I bet they were all beautiful.”

“They were,” she says, wistfully. “There was one man that caught my eye right before we moved. I never got his name, nor did we ever speak but you bet your bottom I was sat watching his every move whenever I could. He always had this dog with him–”

Olive, taking a sip of tea, inhales at the wrong moment and chokes as she hears Pearl’s words. “Jesus, Olive,” she laughs, trying her best to throw a napkin her way. “Wrong pipe?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replies, coughing a few more times. “Something like that.” It couldn't be the same dog, the same man. Surely not? Shaking her head through the shock, Olive trying to make sense of everything that's happened in the past few hours, Joan enters the room looking a little less stressed than the last times Olive has seen her.

“Hi, Olive,” she smiles.

“Joan,” she greets. “How are you?”

“Oh, better now I've got that sorted. Funeral home wanted to go through the order of service, and wanted to know how long my grandson's speech was going to be. You know our Kyle can talk.” Joan looks at Olive, her lips pursed slightly. “You remember Kyle, Olive?”

“Oh, er, yeah. I sure do.” How could she forget? Seeing him on the train while on her way home had brought up so much disdain that she'd felt nauseous for hours afterwards. Kyle, the first and only guy she'd let break her heart, and she'd let him do it because he somehow broke through all the toughness Pearl had taught her - and used it to his advantage.

“I do wish you two had worked out–”

“I wish he'd have been able to control himself and not sleep with my best friend.”

“Olive!” Pearl scolds. Standing up, Olive announces her leave.

“I need to shower. Nice to see you, as always, Joan. See you tomorrow.”

—

Olive sits on her bed, wrapped in a towel and tries to breathe slowly. Laying down on the bed, her wet hair soaking into the pillow case, she closes her eyes and begins to try and ‘center herself,’ an exercise she'd been taught in Movement Class at drama school. Feeling her lungs inflate and holding her breath for just a moment, Olive hears a small knock on her door.

“Ollie Pop?” Pearl calls, her voice etched with concern. “You alright?”

Breathing out slowly, Olive sits up. “Come in, Grandma.” As she does so, she puffs heavily and sits on the bed beside her.

“I like our Joan, but her grandson is a twat.”

“Granny!” Olive shrieks.

“What? You know if I curse, it's serious. He is. A stupid one at that.”

“Yeah,” she replies, sighing. “Besides,” she pauses, the panic attack pushed aside. “I'm a tough girl. Just like my Grandma.”

—

Laying in the softly lit room as the sun rises, Olive tries her best to read by the glowing lamplight emanating from her bedside table. The words scattering on the page, blurring into one another, she snaps it shut and sits up quickly as her alarm clock beeps, not wasting a single moment. Despite a night of minimal sleep, Olive gets ready in a flash, trying her best to remain as quiet as possible to not disturb Pearl who she can hear snoring from her room. Opening the door with a small creak, Olive smiles sweetly as her beloved Grandma sleeps peacefully, pictures of her husband on display on the table directly next to the bed. Closing the door quietly, Olive goes to the kitchen and boils the kettle for her morning green tea, waiting for Joan to come take over. Despite Olive figuring out that only a little time passes between worlds, she does not want to risk Pearl ever being left alone. Sipping at the hot liquid, she watches the sunrise through the garden window. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, her mind goes back to the previous sunrise she saw, under the wing of a plane with Dougie.

Finishing her tea, Olive quickly runs back to her room to collect her dog-eared copies of A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Tempest, hoping to find time for some light reading throughout the day. Joan arrives soon after, instantly apologizing for yesterday as she walks through the door, eyes wide with anxiety.

“Joan,” Olive says, waving her apology away. “Not you that should be apologizing really. You're fine. It's fine and we're fine.”

“Phew, good. Our Pearl awake yet?” Olive shakes her head.

“Not yet. She seemed to fall asleep pretty quickly last night, too.”

“She's a lot more relaxed now you're here, Ol. She knows you're safe and I think that pleases her.”

“I'm glad to be here,” she pauses, smiling awkwardly. “Right, off to work!”

“Do you need something for lunch?”

“No, thanks,” she smiles, quickly adjusting her headscarf. “I'll grab a donut.”

—

Practically skipping to the airplane, she takes a quick look around to make sure nobody has eyes on her. Only a few early morning museum visitors are around, going into the building itself, trying to keep out of the cool morning air. Satisfied that nobody can see her, she clambers into the plane, body flopping into the aircraft like a hard loaf of bread.

“I gotta get better at this,” she murmurs to herself, wincing as her core tightens. Leaning down, she slams the door shut and waits. A dog barks in the distance, her eyes clamped shut in fervent hope. She opens her eyes and gently fiddles with the door, her head sticking out slightly. Waiting on the ground is Meatball, tail wagging the second he sees Olive.

“Hi, buddy,” Olive squeaks when she lands on the floor, a lot more graceful than yesterday's breathtaking bump. “Good morning!” Taking him by the leash, she retrieves her bag and begins to walk to the Clubmobile.

“Hey!” She hears as her back is turned. “Who said you could take my dog?” There's Benny, a playful smile on his face that Olive instantly reciprocates.

“He did, actually. Waiting right there to greet me.”

He laughs, leaning down to stroke the dog. “He just was excited to see his new best friend.”

“And so was I,” she replies, handing the leash to him. “I'd better run. Can't be late for my first day!”

—

“Aaah! You're here!” Val squeals, squeezing Olive into a quick embrace. “Come on,” she says, taking her by the hand and leading her to the hut. “Tat got a uniform for you, Lord knows where from but I gave her my measurements and what do you know, there was one spare, exactly your–our size.”

Hanging on the small locker next to a bunk, is a blue jumpsuit, emblazoned with the American Red Cross logo on one pocket.

“Here's your space,” Val says, gesturing towards the locker. “We have our own showers so we keep most of our stuff in there, toiletries, make up, what have you. We usually use this for trinkets, but decorate how you see fit, doll.”

Placing her satchel on the bed, Olive removes her clothes and slips into the jumpsuit, it fitting her like a glove. She stuffs The Tempest into one of the huge pockets while Val takes in her new look.

“Oh!” Val gasps, hands on her cheeks. “Don't you look adorable! Wait til Dougie sees you!” Rolling her eyes, Olive looks in the mirror one final time before heading to the door of the hut, Val close behind.

“Helen is already there,” she says, linking her arm with Olive's. “We'd better get there before she's rushed off her feet! Most of the boys are on the ground today, but they'll still be wanting coffee and donuts from us.”

“Makes sense,” Olive responds, waving to Tattie as she zooms past in her Jeep. She waves back, a smile on her face, the wind of the cool morning blowing through her perfectly styled hair.

“Tattie gets a Jeep?” Olive enquires, hoping there's no tone of malice within her question.

“Oh, yeah,” Val says, nodding. “She's the head honcho. She's General Spaatz's daughter, after all.”

“I dunno who that is, Val. Enlighten me.”

“In simple terms? Commander of the Eighth. That's all I know, to be honest. Don't make me go further than that, because I simply couldn't tell you.” She grins, flashing those beautiful teeth. “I'm so glad you came.”

“Me, too.”

—

“Olive! You're here!” Helen shouts through the hatch of the Clubmobile. Climbing down the stairs, she greets her new friend with a hug. Not used to this much affection all at once, Olive basks in it, feeling her face glow.

“Morning, Helen. Thanks for fixing up the bed.”

“You're so welcome, Ol. Nobody will be itching in our house! Not on my watch.”

“You'd think that should be the nurse's job, but here we are.” Val says, her tone scathing as she leans on the counter, flicking through a new copy of Screen Romances, Laraine Day and Robert Young upon the cover, cheeks pressed together.

“Oh, I love Screen Romances,” Olive pipes up as Val reads through, that famous furrow brought out in concentration. “The gossip columns are savage.”

“Oh, they so are,” Val responds, looking up, her eyes rolling slightly. “I live for it. I love the cattiness, the scathing remarks. Ugh, wonderful. I'll let you know if anything juicy comes up,” she says, nodding towards the hatch. “Someone's here to see you.”

“Donut from the prettiest girl in East Anglia, please.”

“Hey, Dougie,” she blushes, leaning out of the truck slightly.

“Look at you,” he says, biting his lip a little. “Blue really is your color.”

“Oh, stop,” she replies, cheeks glowing even redder. “You're just angling for an extra donut.”

“Maybe,” he says, leaning up to meet her in the hatch. “And a kiss.”

“Well, handsome, I can only give you one of those things right now,” she says, a donut in hand. “Meatball hair free, too. Must be your lucky day.”

“It sure is. Can I get a coffee too? Just cream.”

“Coming right up. No sugar?”

“Not when you're around. I'm sweet enough on you.”

“Are you trying to make me keel over?” She scolds, pouring the coffee into the cup. Brow furrowed, she hands him the cup, followed by a quick smile.

“Jeez, too much time with Valencia already. You've got that furrow perfected.”

“Maybe it was always within her, James,” she shouts, head still buried in the magazine. “Little help from me, and you being insufferable brings the best furrows out in people.” Olive shakes her head, giggling at the banter between the two.

“Will you be at the club later?” Dougie asks, sipping the coffee.

“I assume so,” Olive shrugs. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” he teases, winking as he walks away.

“She's right,” Olive shouts from the Clubmobile. “You are insufferable.”

—

Both Dougie and Benny turn the second Olive enters the club, linked arm in arm with Val and Helen who stand either side of her. She meets the eyes of either man in turn, feeling her cheeks glow with that familiar heat the second she makes eye contact with Dougie.

“I saw that,” Helen teases as they sit down, the same table as the previous evening. “You smiled when you saw Benny…”

“Helen–” Olive cuts her off, her cheeks now red with embarrassment instead of the previous limerence.

“But I saw that twinkle in your eye when Dougie looked at you.”

Val nods enthusiastically, lighting a cigarette before offering one to her companions. Her attention on them is taken away the moment Everett walks up to the table, her eyes glowing as he greets her with a kiss on the cheek.

Olive feels a presence behind her, before a glass - an Old Fashioned - is put at her place on the table. She turns to see Dougie, standing behind her chair with a whiskey in his hand.

“Thanks,” she says, demurely, hoping that the blushing is now at bay.

“You owe me a dance later,” he says, winking as he walks back to the bar before she can even muster an answer.

“Does he always do that?” she asks, turning to Val and Ev. “Ask a question then piss off to the other end of the room?” The couple and Helen burst out laughing at her tone, still not quite used to Olive's dry British humor. Not able to contain her own laughter due to theirs, she tries to pull herself together to reiterate the question. Ev is the first to compose himself, Val dabbing at his eyes with her handkerchief as he gasps for air a final time.

“Nah, not always,” he finally says, looking for his friend at the bar. “He's just nervous, I think.”

—

Feeling a wet nose at her bare ankle, Olive squeals and finds Meatball under the table.

“Aaah, hi buddy!” she says, placing her drink on the table and beginning to pet him. “Were you good today? We missed you!”

“Speak for yourself,” Val mumbles under her breath as she reapplies her lipstick , only loud enough for Olive to hear, causing her to shoot her a glance and giggle. Making sure Benny didn't hear, she smiles up at him.

“Hi, Benny. How was your day?”

“Better now for seeing you. Let me get this fella squared away. D'you wanna dance?”

“Love to,” she grins, placing her jacket on her chair. Val winks at her as she exits, clutching Benny's arm as he gives the dog to Buck and a few men around him before leading her to the dancefloor.

“I'm warning you, Benny,” she begins as they begin to sway together. “I'm not much of a dancer. I hope you enjoyed having toes.”

“I'm just as bad, don't worry. Just wanted a moment alone with you.”

“That's sweet,” she replies, smiling as she places a hand on his shoulder.

“So, how was your first day?”

“Oh, it was wonderful, thanks.” And she means it. It's the most fulfilled she's felt in years, these new people welcoming her and taking her under their wing. Everything that went wrong in London feels like a million light-years away; and being here, maybe it is. Benny narrows his eyes at her answer, trying to gauge any hint of sarcasm he may have missed. She shoves him playfully as they dance, giggling a little. “I'm being serious, Benny. It's exactly what I need.”

“If you say so,” he replies, smiling as he spins her away from him. With that spin, she crashes into none other than James Douglass, who automatically takes her in his arms.

“Dog needs taking out, Benny,” he teases, gripping Olive's hand. He quickly spins her to a new spot on the dancefloor and grins. “Told ya, you owed me a dance.”

“I didn't hear you asking, James,” she teases, feeling her cheeks flush as his hand lands on the small of her back. “It was more of a statement.”

“Right, right,” he says, breaking away. “Will you dance with me?”

“Yes, I will. But you'd better apologize to Demarco when he gets back.”

“Oh, I'm not sorry for anything, doll.” She tuts at him, letting him lead her nonetheless. Him touching her feels like lighting coursing through her veins, feeling her hair stand up on end. He moves closer as the band slows, their noses almost beginning to touch as they move in unison to the swelling music. Her inhale becoming his exhale, she moves and plants a soft kiss on his neck. She feels him gasp into her ear and it's enough to make her weak at the knees. Looking over his shoulder, she sees a light begin to flash red above the door.

“Hey,” she murmurs, gesturing towards the light with a movement of her head. “Does that mean something?” He turns and looks, his eyes suddenly downcast as he sighs.

“Ah, shit. Yeah.”

“I'll walk ya home,” Benny pipes up, suddenly behind them.

“Nah, I got it, Benny,” James replies, taking his grip off Olive.

“No,” Benny says, a little sternly. “I'll do it. Olive, you ready?”

“It's fine, I can–” she tries to say, but is once again cut off by incessant squabbling, the two men fighting like catty school children. Looking towards Val for help, Olive sees Everett talking to a man with big brown eyes, hair slicked back into a soft pomp, his body seemingly racked with anxiety. Everett and Val gently push him in Olive's direction, him ushering her away unnoticed.

“Thanks,” she sighs, staring into the pretty cow eyes of the man that rescued her.

“No problem. Harry Crosby,” he says, gesturing to himself, a hand on his chest as he introduces himself.

“Hey, Harry. Olive.” He stretches a hand out and she shakes it.

“I heard the commotion. I'm heading back to write to my wife. She would never let me live it down if I wasn't a gentleman to others. I'll walk ya home, Olive.”

“Oh, Harry. That's so kind. Thank you.”

As he holds the door open for her, she hears the arguing come to a sudden stop followed by a surprised “Crosby?!” and Val storming up to them. “Stupid boys,” is all she hears as she exits the club with Harry, her arm linked platonically with his.

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #Honeysuckle Rose #Olive Lewis #masters of the air x oc #benny demarco #James Douglass #everett blakely #oc: olive lewis #oc: valencia dirosano #just a snappin #time travel #1940s #ww2 #wwii #winnie writes

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itstheheebiejeebies · 2 months

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A really great article about what the crew of the Just-a-Snappin' went through on the Bremen raid on October 8, 1943.

Transcript below Read More

Article found through this page on the 100th Bomb Group site

Article named: Uncommon valor

Subheading: Everett Blakely personified grace under pressure

By Dan Krieger Telegram-Tribune

Photos of the Just-a-Snappin' crashed into a tree, and one of Blakely smiling in uniform. The latter with the message "Everett 'Gopher' Blakely, right, lost his plne, 'Just-a-Snappin.' but saved his crew when he crash landed the B-17 bomber.

Pull quote in the article: 'For 3,000 feet Captain Blakely and Major Kidd fought to get that plane under control. It was only because of the superior construction of our bomber... plus the combination of two skilled pilots, that we ever even recovered from that dive. -Lt. Harry Crosby

Main article: Lt. Harry Crosby wrote to his wife, "Jean there are just two reasons why I am here today. One of them is because of Blake's superb piloting and the other is because of the skill of our gunners."

We often think of heroes as flamboyant people. More often than not, real heroes are quiet people who are doing what they believe is required of them.

Today Everett Blakely, a pilot trained in Santa Maria, says that he was "just doing what had to be done" in the war against Hitler. He was a quiet hero.

Allan G. Hancock College in Santa Maria has a long and colorful history. Long before it became a community college, the campus was known as the Hancock College of Aeronautics.

It was a private school, named after its energetic, versatile and creative founder and benefactor, Capt. Allan Hancock.

Well prior to American entry into the Second World War, Captain Hancock offered his school to the United States Army Air Corps as a flight instruction school. Between May 1939 and V-J Day, some 8,500 pilots and 1,500 aircraft mechanics were trained at Hancock College.

The commercial warehouse district just west of today's Hancock College campus includes the one-time hangers for the flight instruction aircraft. The Stearman PT-13 biplanes are gone, but the College of Aeronautics administration buildings still survive on campus.

Everett "Gopher" Blakely came to Santa Maria just out of the University of Washington at Seattle. He was convinced that America was going to get involved in the European war.

The Blitzkrieg over Poland in 1939, over Belgium and France in 1940, and the Battle of Britain had convinced Blakely that this was going to be a war where air power was essential. The United States was going to need pilots. "Gopher" Blakely had discovered his mission.

Blakely soon started flying the essentially First World War era Stearmans over the tranquil valleys of the Central Coast. He and his buddies from rainy Puget Sound loved the warm sunny climate. They thought Santa Maria was a friendly town and enjoyed a precious few weekend hours socializing at the Santa Maria Inn.

Within months, Blakely and his friends were on the damp fen lands of Norfolkshire in England's East Anglia. They had graduated from the tiny Stearmans to the "Queen of the Bombers," the four-engine, hundred-foot-winged Boeing B-17 "Flying Fortress."

On July 4, 1943, the first American pilots participated with Britain's Royal Air Force in bombing raids over Germany. But as late as January 1943, Winston Churchill, en route to meet with President Roosevelt at Casablanca, wrote a secret memo to his Secretary of State for Air.

In that memo, Churchill complained that "the Americans have not yet succeeded in dropping a single bomb on Germany." What Churchill meant was that no American bombers were able to penetrate German anti-aircraft fire a sufficient distance. This was because the Americans were trained for daylight missions only. The British had bomber Berlin early in the war by flying mainly night missions,

Churchill wanted the Americans to start flying night missions also. But Gen. Henry H. "Hap" Arnold was convinced that it would take too long to retrain air crews for night flying. That loss of time would allow the Germans to rebuild their military strength.

At Casablanca, the Americans won Churchill over to a doctrine of round-the-clock bombing which would "give Hitler no rest." The Americans would send increasingly larger waves of B-17s by day. The RAF would continue doing what it did best through nighttime assaults.

The decision at Casablanca was costly in terms of the lives of American aircrews. Daytime raids were decidedly more risky. Few of us realize that the losses to the Eight Air Force alone approach American losses in the Vietnam War.

Capt. "Gopher" Blakely became the pilot of "Just-a-Snappin," a B-17 in the 100th Bomb Group flying out of Thorpe Abbots in Norfolkshire. Blakelly and his crew were piloting their B-17s over the upper reaches of the Danube in the famous raids on Schweinfurt and Rogensburg.

On Oct. 8, 1943, the 10th Bomb Group participated in a raid on the shipbuilding and industrial center of Bremen and the nearby U-Boat building yards and pens at Vegesack.

Both of "Just-a-Snappin's" right wing engines were shot out in a running battle with German fighters over the Zuider Zee. Five of the crew were injured - Waist Giner Sgt. Lester Saunders fatally.

Lt. Harry Crosby, "Just-a-Snappin's" navigator, filed an astonishing report on the B-17's struggle to return to England:

"For 3,000 feet Captain Blakely and Major Kidd fought to get that plane under control. It was only because of the superior construction of our bomber, and its perfect maintenance, plus the combination of two skilled pilots, that we even recovered from that dive.

"If I were an expert on stress and strain analysis, or a mechanic, or even a pilot, I would dwell at length on the manner in which the plane was restored to normal flying attitude. As it is, the procedure defies my description. But I am certain it was a very great accomplishment."

Everett Blakely's description recalls, "You can lose altitude awfully fast when one engine goes sour and your controls are chewed to ribbons. We dropped for 3,000 feet before Major Kidd and I could regain control... Most of the crew were not strapped to their seats were thrown to the floor, shaken severely - but at last the ground was once more back where it ought to be, instead of standing up on one ear. Once more we were in level flight and, at least temporarily, safe."

Crosby's report states that:

"At 10,000 feet we were able to look out the windows (and) were temporarily assured to not that the ground was now in the right place. A hurried consultation was held over inter-phone to determine a plan for fighting our way back to England.

"The following facts had to be considered: We had lost all communication back of the top turret, so it was impossible to determine the extent of injury and damage. Our control wires were fraying as far back as the top turret operator could see. At least two of the crew had reported being hit immediately after we left the target.

"One engine was in such bad condition that bits and finally all of the cowling were blasted off. We were losing altitude so rapidly probably because of the condition of the elevator that any but the shortest way back was beyond contemplation. So we headed across the face of Germany for home."

Later, Harry Crosby wrote of Blakely and his co-pilot:

"The normal reaction on the part of our pilots should have been to think of their own personal safety, or in cases of extreme nobility of character perhaps they would have been thinking about the other members of the crew. But they did not, even in this crisis, forget for one minute they were the leaders of a great formation. Their first thought was of the crews behind them. In unison, as we fell into our dive, the words came over the interphone to our tail gunner, 'Signal the deputy leader to take over.'

"I can't help but to think as they fought for their lives they might have been excused for being too busy to think of their command, but such was not the case.

"By this signaling, the remainder of the formation was notified immediately that we had been hit and were aborting. This act would have prevented any planes being pulled even a few feet out of position into danger from the enemy aircraft buzzing about."

Despite the loss of the airplane's compass, Blakely and his amazing navigator, Lt. Harry Crosby, made it to landfall. They crash-landed at Ludham, Norfolk. The completely unmaneuverable aircraft, without any brakes, skidded into an ancient British oak tree.

Blakely remembers: "The tree crashed between Np. 2 engine and the pilot's compartment. That was lucky because another three inches to the right and it would have crushed the pilot and co-pilot. We had slowed to maybe 50 mph by then..."

Blakely's co-pilot for that mission, Major John B. Kidd, recalled that "someone counted over 800 separate holes in that aircraft."

"Just-a-Snappin" would never fly again.

The Bremen mission was typical of dozens of missions which penetrated deeper and deeper into German territory. Even before the Bremen raid, Blakely and his crew were piloting their B-17's over teh upper reaches of the Danube in the famous raids on Schweinfurt and Regensburg.

Today, Blakely is retired and lives with his wife, Marge, in San Luis Obispo. They are the parents of Supervisor David Blakely, who speaks with great pride of his father's contribution to the fight against Hitler.

-three stars end the article and separate a note about the author

Dan Krieger is a Cal Poly history professor and member of the County Historical Society.

-Along the bottom of the page the article is attributed to the San Luis Obispo (Calif.) Telegram-Tribune in the Saturday, February 16, 1991 edition on page 23.

#masters of the air #mota #real guys #everett blakely #just-a-snappin'#goblin fort appreciation society #jack kidd #harry crosby #dana rambles #Bremen mission #October 8 1943

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kindahoping4forever · 1 year

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📸

#the way i thought I'd spend the afternoon posting content from past shows & maybe take a nap #instead my phone is overheating from editing screenshots & I'm fighting my fic demons #5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton #ashton irwin #Instagram #band ig #ryan fleming 2023 #bogota 2023 #the 5sos show tour #kh4f post #sigh #he's just a big lil sight seeing guy #just smilin and snappin away #he is. just. wow?#like I refuse to get over or begin to process it #the messy curls the scruff THE SMILE???! HIS EYES 😭😭😭😭😭😭#fun fact the dimples are a paid actor in all these photos #and 🤸🏻‍♀️ the 🤸🏻‍♀️ earring #i could write poetry about that earring #I've had boyfriends i loved less than i love that earring #I need a nap not just bc I am physically exhausted but also now mentally exhausted that I've been confronted by so much good content #sleep perchance to dream of tourist Ash and his camera #also those giant paws #ok byeeeeee #ps #why i no can kiss

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daysofxavierspast · 2 months

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NEW FIND! A pic of our Just-a-Snappin’ boys in Algeria!

#masters of the air #just-a-snappin’#goblin fort appreciation society

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mastersoftheair · 8 months

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a few of the "Just-A-Snappin" crew (from sam gittins' instagram)

#masters of the air #hbo war #behind the scenes #sam gittins #alex boxall #louis sparks #spike white #idk who the last guy is. could be nord or yevich or forkner? but those guys aren't credited on imdb. maybe brock? but the actor looks wrong #just a snappin

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kafka-ohdear · 21 days

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pocket sized pilot

#help #masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fanart #the duck knows how to draw #everett blakely #just-a-snappin'

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thatsrightice · 6 months

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There were 140 total Pilots, Copilots, Navigators, and Bombardiers in the “Original” 100th crews.

After Münster, there were only THREE left on flying status:

Pilot Everett Blakely

Bombardier James Douglass*

Navigator Harry Crosby

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lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar · 1 year

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#showaddywaddy #a night at daddy gee's #1979 #theee ennnd #ROMEOOOOOOO NOOOOOO #THE PLACE CLOSED JUST AS YOU ARRIVED #romeo look #i will come there and dance with you under a streetlight #all night #please #just right there on the sidewalk #and then we can walk home together #snappin' our fiNGERS AND A-SHUFFLIN' OUR FEET SINGIN' DOO WAH DIDDY DIDDY DUM DIDDY DOO #romeo i love you #showaddywaddy gifs

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reallylilyreally · 2 months

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just-a-snappin :)

SO this one is just an outline at the moment, BUT it covers Blakely's crew on their Bremen flight, the one that ended with everyone thinking they were dead and Cros navigating them into a tree.

The actual story of that flight is INSANE. Like, in the show, they're very blasé about it but the actual story is intense and wild and unbelievable. The things that Blakely did to get them home, the skill and determination, holy shit.

I have basically none of this written. But it exists fully formed in my head, as does this moment:

"It's not your fault if this doesn't work," Dougie says, and the words are barely audible over the howling of the wind and the nasty, choking noise coming from somewhere in the fort and someone praying just a little bit louder than they probably mean to. "You've been a fucking miracle but we're out of luck. It's not your fault."

#masters of the air #fanfic #just-a-snappin #everett blakely #james douglass

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blakelysco-pilot · 3 months

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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

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#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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