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softguarnere · 1 year ago

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Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 33: Goodbye, Tommy

Summary: “And how did you come to find yourself in your, uh – “ The major makes a rolling motion with his hand, as if urging her on. “ – situation?” She’s beginning to wonder the same thing herself. A/N: This is either exactly what you expect from me, or the exact opposite - there's no in between. (Either way, I'm so sorry) Warnings: language Taglist: @latibvles @liebgotts-lovergirl @lady-cheeky @mrs-murder-daddy @ithinkabouttzu @mads-weasley @lieutenant-speirs @dcyllom

Austria, 1945

It could be a peaceful setting, under different circumstances.

Major Winters’ room has a balcony with a beautiful view. He sits there now, at a small table, with Captain Nixon beside him. The doorway frames them like a painting. But unlike people in a painting, they turn and look up at her as she slowly emerges from the darkness of the bedroom and steps onto the balcony with them.

Nixon looks her up and down. “Well, well, well. There’s the blushing bride.”

Clad in her wedding dress and feeling utterly exposed by the abrupt end to her charade, Zenie fumbles momentarily. Does she salute? Curtsey, maybe, like the debutante this dress makes her feel like?

In the end, she settles for the salute. She is, after all, a soldier. A Toccoa man, at that. She’s done her part for the war effort. Now she just has to hope that they remember that, too.

Major Winters salutes her, and it’s pleasant enough. There’s a beat of silence when he’s done. He glances to Nixon, who’s staring at Zenie with that inscrutable look of his that’s part knowing smirk and part something else that she doesn’t have time to examine. Winters clears his throat, and then it begins. Zenie’s stomach churns with ice water at the realization that this is a very real thing.

“So, Sergeant Driver.” A gingery eyebrow raises in question. “What’s your real name?”

Zenie has to swallow before speaking, the dryness of her mouth making her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth. “Zena McGlamery,” she says. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from adding the amendment that she gave all her friends upon their finding out – but most everyone calls me Zenie.

“And how did you come to find yourself in your, uh – “ The major makes a rolling motion with his hand, as if urging her on. “ – situation?”

She’s beginning to wonder the same thing herself. This whole farce began because she wanted to join the war effort. Maybe she should have rolled bandages or become a secretary after all. Then she could have saved everyone all this trouble.

But then she wouldn’t have met Shifty. Or Bill, or Babe, or McClung. She wouldn’t have her friends, or any of the memories she shares with them. She might never have known that she mattered to anyone. She would have done her work, completed her time with the war effort, then returned home. End of story.

Now she knows that there is so much out there in the world, waiting for her. Good things are possible. People are kind. There is more to the world than a stifling bedroom for the forgotten youngest child. Even they have a place in the world. And Zenie has found hers.

She can’t say all of that to Major Winters, of course. “I just wanted to do my part, sir.”

“Why not the Red Cross?” Nixon asks. “Or the WAC? They do their part.”

“I wanted something more.”

The two officers share a glance. Nixon shrugs. Winters turns back to her.

“Fair enough.” He leans forward in his chair, eyes scanning the paper in front of him briefly before they flick back up to her. “Miss McGlamery – “ Zenie can’t ignore the way it stings her heart to hear the backbone of the company refer to her by her real name and not her rank. “ – I think we’re all in agreement that you cannot join Easy Company in the next jump into the Pacific. For obvious reasons. The most important being your own safety.”

This she suspected. That was why she had planned to get out of here. But the major is watching her, expecting a reaction, so she nods in agreement.

“Everyone would like for this to be solved as quickly and quietly as possible. So after our meeting, you will take your final paycheck, and be escorted to a civilian ship that will carry you back to the States.” One of Winters’ eyebrows quirks as he glances at his notes again. “It would appear that, uh, you and Shifty are married now?”

She swallows. “Yes, sir.”

Winters nods. “Well, I guess that worked out well for the two of you.”

Just an observation, or a joke that fell flat? Either way, a beat of silence passes. When no one speaks, Zenie takes advantage of the silence to ask what’s been bothering her most.

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, how did I get caught?” Both she and the major automatically glance at Nixon. If there was ever a time for the intelligence officer to offer up information, it would be now.

He slides into his role easily. “From what I can piece together, people were looking for Shifty to congratulate him before he took off, but no one could find him. Someone thought that they saw him go off toward the town. But then someone heard a few residents saying something about a GI getting married. And since you’re supposed to get permission from your commanding officer for that, Speirs went to check it out. Somehow or other, he stumbled across the two of you.”

“Oh.” Speirs, who was impressed with her for not being afraid of him when he offered her a cigarette. Speirs, who stuck up for her by transferring a man to another company because of rumors he spread about her. She should apologize, if she gets the chance.

Before her mood can sink any lower, Winters stands and extends his hand to her.

“You were a good soldier, Tommy,” he says.

For a split second, she’s back to being the man she’s pretended to be for years now. “Thank you, sir.”

When she’s dismissed, Winters hands her an envelope with her final pay in it. Probably the last time the Army will ever pay her, if she had to guess. If they’re so keen on getting rid of her without causing a fuss, they probably won’t be doing much to thank her for her service or anything of the sort past this point.

As she nears the door, she hears Winters ask, “Did you know? I mean, would you have guessed?”

Nixon scoffs. “Of course I knew. I’m an intelligence officer, Dick – I know everything.”

The door shuts behind her, and they’re gone.

Shifty jumps as the door closes. He’s by her side in an instant, seemingly appearing from nowhere, although Zenie knew he was waiting somewhere out here for his turn to speak with the officers. She falls into his embrace. “How did it go?”

She knows what he’s really asking. “I don’t think I’m in trouble. I don’t think you are either.”

His forehead is scrunched with worry, making Zenie wish that she could reach out and smooth it, taking all the worries about their current circumstances away, too. “So . . . no court martial?”

“They want me to leave,” she explains, holding up the envelope with her final paycheck and her ticket for the ship. “Quickly and quietly. I guess if I just . . . slide back into my old self, they think we can avoid a lot of trouble.”

“Hmm.” Shifty glances at the door. “I’m guessin’ they’ll tell me the same.”

“So what do we do?”

“Your stuff is packed?” When Zenie nods, he mirrors the motion. “Good. You go ahead and get it. Get to the ship, if you can. I’ll meet you there when they’re done with me.”

“And then what?”

“We can figure it out on the ship, but I was thinkin’ we could go see your Mama, like we talked about. Then we can head up to Virginia, if that’s still what you want.” It all sounds so simple coming from him. Like they can just sail away and start their lives together, like they haven’t caused loads of trouble in one afternoon. He squeezes her hand, but she takes firm hold of it before he can pull away.

She holds Shifty’s hand in both of hers. “You really think that you’ll be let go as easily?”

“I don’t see why not.”

He’s right. Zenie created a fake identity for herself and lied to the military. All Shifty did was keep her secret and marry her. That’s a far less punishable offense. Or it seems like it should be, anyway.

The officers are probably wondering where he is. Zenie frees her husband’s hands but stands on tiptoe and presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you at the ship.”

Shifty caresses her cheek, turning her face back towards him and planting a gentle kiss on her lips. “Donadagohvi”

When the door shuts behind him, Zenie goes. Still in her evening gown, lipstick, and too small shoes, she no longer feels like the blushing bride who seemed so elegant making her way into the town and down the aisle. Soldiers turn to look at her as she passes, and she can’t be sure if it’s because she’s a woman, or because they’ve heard about what happened. She holds her chin up all the way back to where she’s billeted. It’s one last show, and she’s going to perform with what’s left of Tommy’s confidence.

Grim faces greet her when she enters the house. Her friends all pause, like they were in the middle of a conversation, only to have her barge in and announce the worst. Gene stands tentatively, biting his lip. The first man in Toccoa who she ever trusted with her secret, worrying for her again. She tries to smile, to assure him that it’s fine.

“Well fellas,” she begins. “I guess I’ve beat y’all back to the States.”

George jumps up from his seat. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! So, no trouble?”

“No trouble. They just want me out of here as quickly and quietly as possible.”

“Damn.” George snaps his fingers, shakes his head. “I guess that ruins the whole party I had planned for you. Probably too late to get a refund for the marching band. I’m crushed.”

“How about you come visit me and Shifty in Virginia, and we’ll have a slice of pie to celebrate instead?”

“That invitation extends to all of us, I hope.” Babe quirks an eyebrow. “Because I’ve heard things about the pies that Shifty’s ma makes, and I don’t wanna be left out.”

Zenie squeezes his hand. “Of course.”

There’s so little time to say all that she wants to say. Gene produces several scraps of paper, and they all write down names and addresses, extending invitations to visit, promising to write. (And Zenie does promise this time. Not like with Bobby, where she only pledged to do her best. She’s not like Beckie; when Zenie promises something to the ones she loves, she will fulfil that duty. No one here will be eagerly checking their mailboxes and find nothing but disappointment the way her old friend did to her.)

Wrapping them all in hugs, Zenie presses a kiss to each of the boys’ cheeks, thanking them, telling them how much she cares about them. Now that she’s about to be apart from them for the first time in three years, whatever it is that exists between them all feels very heavy, very present, very real. This isn’t simple friendship – that’s too light a name to describe this bond. They’ve seen each other wounded, physically and emotionally. They froze together, starved together, and laughed together. These men risked everything for her. What is the proper word to describe how they all fit into each other’s lives now?

With no time to spare, Zenie takes her bag and calls goodbyes over her shoulder all the way down the street as her friends wait on the steps, waving her goodbye. This is what Cinderella must have felt like when she left for the ball, seen off by all her true friends who helped her get there.

A small convoy of trucks and jeeps are waiting when Zenie arrives. She doesn’t get the time to wonder where she’s supposed to go, where she might find Shifty, before one of the Jeep drivers recognizes her. His eyes go wide. He jumps out of his seat and approaches Zenie.

He glances at a slip of paper in his hand. “Sergeant . . . Uh, Miss . . . ?”

“You’re my driver,” Zenie guesses.

He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her bags stowed in the back of the Jeep, the driver helps Zenie into the passenger seat. As soon as he returns to his seat, the engine roars to life, and they take off down the road.

Zenie starts. She glances behind them, but no one seems to think their quick departure unusual. “Where are we going?”

“The coast,” the driver explains. “so you can board the ship.”

“No, I know that. I mean, you forgot my husband. We’re supposed to leave together.”

The driver at least has the decency to look sheepish. “I’m sorry, ma’am. The orders I received were to take you to the ship immediately.”

As quickly and quietly as possible. She shouldn’t have expected anything less. She leans back in her seat and tries to enjoy the rest of the ride.

Being dropped off at the ship is just as unceremonious. Zenie waits until the Jeep is just a tiny speck in the distance before she boards the boat, trying to draw out the seconds so that she can see Shifty approaching.

She waits on the deck, still looking in the direction that her own ride came from and disappeared to. No one appears.

It’s too late when Zenie realizes that the ship is moving. But really, what should she do? Throw herself into the ocean and swim back to shore, leaving all her belongings behind?

Maybe she missed him, somehow. She did take quite a while telling her friends goodbye. It’s possible that Shifty managed to make it to the ship before she did.

With one last glance at the shore, Zenie steels herself before she leaves the rail, off to look for her husband while she tries to ignore the ice-cold worry churning in her stomach.

#band of brothers fanfic #shifty powers #shifty powers x ofc #shifty powers x original female character #hbo war fanfic #my writing #oc zenie mcglamery #like a girl (like a man)

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bellewintersroe · 2 years ago

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James ‘Moe’ Alley x nurse Jenny OC - Headcannons - Part 5.

wooooooooohoo part 5, sorry for the slow updates I’ve been quite busy, but with summer coming things should calm down :) this part is going to explore when Easy go to war, and how they cope with the strain it puts on not only themselves, but everybody around them.

Ugh so the dreaded D Day finally comes. It’s equally as horrifying and daunting for both Jenny and Moe. I think he’d find himself wanting to be near her at all times before they’re shipped off, holding her hand, holding her arm or shoulders.

he tried to persuade her to become a nurse at home or in England on more than a few occasions, but she has to assure him that she can’t and won’t leave Easy, and she’ll be okay.

I think it’s the fact that they can’t even expect the unexpected because what can you expect when you have no idea what war is?

The nurses would probably be sent in on a ship into Europe before the men all land in Normandy. I think Jenny would find herself, alongside all the other nurses, extremely out of their depth, especially on Omaha beach.

the causalities are traumatic, there’s more blood loss and death than Jenny could’ve dreamed. She very quickly comes to realise that all her training is nothing until she actually experiences treating wounded men out there.

When Moe lands, it’s rough. He crashes into a wall that’s embedded with glass and gets pretty cut up. Luckily, he’s alive and not bleeding to bad. He’s nervous wreck, when there’s so much gunfire and artillery surrounding him, he questions how the hell is Jenny is coping with all of this?

is she safe? Is she in a hospital? Moe hoped and prayed in the days that he Rogers and Mcclung looked for Easy, that he’d stumble upon her. He has to remain focused however, in order to not land another injury.

when they reunite James let’s put the biggest breath of relief, almost falling to his knees, exhausted as she runs over, holding him tight.

It’s so worrying seeing him hurt and all bashed up, Jenny starts crying when she notices his injuries, he’s limping and not steady on his feet.

Moe gets all teary eyed seeing her cry against his chest. They can’t openly show much PDA, especially when the CO’s are around, so he has to settle for a quick hug which leaves him feeling extremely unsatisfied.

“Don’t cry, Jen. I’m not hurt bad.” He’d whisper and she’d wipe her tears away so discreetly so nobody else could see. Her priority is making sure he’s okay and all patched up perfectly, so she manages to find some time just to take care of him.

they’d have a playful little argument about him needing rest, but he doesn’t see Jenny smile once, not until he grabs her face and kisses her, shielded in the privacy of the small make shift aid station.

of course she smiles after that kinda move.

but it’s scary, for the first few months there’s so many small encounters between the pair, but they can’t spend a whole lot of time together and it’s frustrating, but war is demanding.

one of the times they get to spend together is when they’re finally sent to France on a weekend pass. They’re about to be shipped back to England, thank god, so Moe’s in high spirits, practically skipping to where Jenny is sat. He’s got flowers and Alton looted a little bracelet he could gift her.

but instead he finds her sat crying on the step, overlooking the city, his face immediately drops. Moe drops the flowers to the floor and sits down besides her with a gentle “hey”.

they’d understand all too well how frightening it is, and nurses in WW2 I feel like aren’t recognised enough. I think Jenny would struggle at first, the way the war has altered her mind is scary and James can relate to her.

they’d be soooo good for each other. Moe would end up picking back up all the flowers and handing her the little present which would make any girl BAWL even harder.

When they’re back home in England, they’d go out on sooo many dates, relieved to feel safe.

but then I feel like something like a cork being pushed out of a wine bottle would make James so startled he has to leave the pub they’re in.

He doesn’t want to seem weak or upset in front of Jen so he hurries out as quick as possible, but she’d pull him into a big hug, despite him being a lot taller, and calm him down from his panicked state.

i think despite there being so much tension and trauma because of the war, the two would really be sooo good for each other, and Moe really needs a girl like Jenny there for him, who’d listen to him and support him and he can do the same for her.

I don’t think he’d be the best at words, but just sitting besides Jen and hugging her close would be so so so so sweet. Like omg, he just sits with his head hung watching her with puppy eyes as he rubs her back whenever she’s upset.

Fml he’s such a gentle lover. I love him.

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers headcannons #james moe alley #james moe alley x reader

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onelungmcclung · 9 months ago

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MotA pt two:

I always said Huglin should have got that looked at (consider me as channelling the spirit of Doc Stern)

don't! fight on the airplane wing

would the ground crew want you throwing bottles at their hard work. no they would not

"I don't feel anything" you will

I recognise what feels like half the actors in each episode. not gonna say which semi obscure guys I already quite liked (well, not now anyway).

pour one out for Jack Kidd, forced into r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s

have we got any jewish characters yet. cmon

I'm surreptitiously Team RAF 🇬🇧 ("we find nightflying really cuts down on the mortality rate" "well we're very manly so fuck you" typical americans) (Bryan did bring this on himself however. and probably learnt how to box at cambridge or somewhere equally impractical. queensberry rules looking mf. Bryan looks like he knows how to box; Biddick looks like he knows how to fight.)

not one single person likes Egan's singing

I have not yet become disproportionately invested in a supporting/minor character 🧐 however, the show is young

I do like Bubbles (the friendship between Bubbles and Crosby - Crosbie? I have never forgotten or forgiven imdb for causing me to mispell McClung's name in my first fic - is very sweet)

I am starting to suspect Austin Butler is not a very interesting/charismatic actor, sorry (perhaps I'm judging him prematurely, or he's miscast, or this is just a personal taste thing). Turner has more chemistry with Keoghan. that said I would not be surprised if Keoghan is one of those actors who could have chemistry with a brick wall. (I've not seen any of the three in much, or main roles, prior to this.)

#txt #masters of the air #mota lb #mota spoilers

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mariamegale · 4 years ago

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Band of Brothers 1x08 - The Patrol

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shoshiwrites · 3 years ago

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2nd platoon + 42 "standing still"

I am not looking at the timestamp I do not see.

42. Standing Still — 2nd platoon

Somewhere under the water, his ears stop ringing. He’s not sure if it’s a relief. Haguenau means hot showers and four walls, barely, and everything is pockmarked and mud and even a swiped Hershey’s tastes too sweet, tastes like wax. Bombed out buildings. Bombed out crew.

His ears stop ringing, and he sees ghosts. A train racing through pines, and this way station bleeds into every other, and after feels like a sob he’s trying to swallow, back there feels like nothing at all.

It’s hard to know where he is now, where any of them are. Where they’re going. The ground is still frozen, flags staked, the ones they love still gone.

One country might as well be another, for all his body knows, palms and fingers cracked and bleeding, and barrels, and pins, and if you asked him now he wouldn’t know, wouldn’t put the words together like he could before. Somewhere under the water. Somewhere under the war.

#i started this out thinking it could be either malarkey or mcclung #and ended i think firmly in malarkey territory #shoshi writes #shoshi writes five sentence fic #scarlok #onelungmcclung #which is also to say......sorry for this not being more people in 2nd #shoshi's prompt tag

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the-quotable-alberta-hansard · 4 years ago

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April 7, 2020

Mr. Dach: I do note that at the risk of raising the ire of the opposition House whip and perhaps severe penalties, I was thinking, as I listened to other speakers, that language is really important, that pronunciation is important, and that Canadian language is absolutely very important. I must say that I cringed every time I heard the word “mobile” in this House repeated time and time again because we may often listen to American television and hear things about mobile phones or mobile homes. But the pronunciation “mobile” is American, and mobile phones and mobile homes are what we own and what we live in in Canada. So I was suggesting perhaps, in my mind, an amendment – I’m only thinking about it; I’m not actually proposing one right now – a subamendment, what might have been, in order to get us on the right track as far as language goes and actually speak in terms of Canadian language, that any time a member of this Assembly mentions the word “mobile,” they’d be fined $75, and that fine would apply to pay for the fee of one individual who wanted to file an application.

An Hon. Member: I’m waiving the fee right now.

Mr. Dach: There you go. There you go. Just an idle thought as I was sitting here listening to other speakers. But it is truly something that I think we should be aware of in this House, and that is the pronunciation of words that reflect what actually our language is in this country versus the American pronunciation, which we should avoid. Just a thought, a pet peeve. Much to the relief of my whip I won’t actually proceed to a formal subamendment proposal, but please be aware of that, and I hope that we take it to heart when considering how we pronounce words that are going to be repeated in public by people listening to us as speakers in public service. I hope that I’ve made a bit of a dent in the mobile world and we’ll hear people in Canada talking about mobile homes and mobile phones instead of the other way.

#a thing that happened #mobile vs mobile #it's both sad and hilarious that the difference doesn't come across in text at all #sorry lorne #alberta #alberta politics #ableg #Lorne Dach #Edmonton-McClung #cdnpoli

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nonstoplover · 4 years ago

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nightly shared cigarettes ~ ron speirs (band of brothers)

my masterlist | my hbo war masterlist

request: Hello, I’m not sure if you’re up to another Speirs request👀 could you write something of him and the girl that the company has rescued from the german on their way or mission, this is just a loosely prompt that I have in mind haha😉 thank you in advance

pairing: ron speirs x SOE agent female reader

summary: when on patrol in haguenau, soldiers of easy co. find a captured british agent. until further notice she has to stay with them and in the meantime she grows closer with one of the lieutenants, someone who's fully inpressed by how badass she is.

words: 4.9K

a/n: thank you for the request, lovely anon. i'm always up to write anything with our sweet little grumpy kleptomaniac !! i hope you enjoy how i interpreted your request xx

also i just wanna note here how much i honestly respect the SOE agents (special operations executive), i did research on this and i'm- wow.

taglist: @50svibes @liebgotttme

When Webster's eyes fall on the young woman crouching in the corner of the room they've just bursted in, for a moment all he feels is confusion as it fills his mind. He comes to an immediate halt, Martin almost colliding with his back. Soon both their slightly widened eyes move around her - taking in the stains of blood and dirt all around her ripped clothes, the bruises colouring her skin, the disheveled (y/h/c) hair that was probably once in a braid but now is falling in her face, the exhaustion written on her features even as she eyes the newly arrived group of men with careful interest.

Before anyone can say or do anything, she opens her lips and in the loud noise, in a quite rusty voice announces a short sentence. "I'm British."

The paratroopers of Easy share a glance, feeling even more confused than before. Nobody have told them about any British woman being in that building, not even in the whole town of Haguenau. Nevertheless, knowing that they have to hurry, Martin orders his men to get her too, bring her back along with the Germans. McClung leans down to grab her and lifts her up in his arms much easier than he's thought - she's unbelievably weightless, at least compared to the heavy equipment he had to carry around in the past month, or to the weight of his comrades when he had to drag one of them who got wounded out of the firing line.

When they get back to the other side of the river and inside the basement, he places the girl on the ground next to the two German soldiers and then the company seems to forget about her as Jackson's suffering keeps everyone's thoughts busy. Only after the heartbreakingly young boy passes away under the helplessly watching eyes of his comrades is when Jones has the chance to actually get a look at their captured foes - surprised to find a woman sitting there as it's been too dark outside and they've been in too much of a stressful hurry for him to cast even a short glance at the captured three.

He immediately calls Martin over to ask him about it, and after learning all the news the staff sergeant can offer, he sends the closest soldier available to get one of the Captains before squatting down in front of her.

"So you say you're British?"

(y/n) slowly raises her glance at the young man before moving her head in a small, weak nod. "Agent," she mumbles the word almost inaudibly before pausing for a couple long seconds, then adds one more thing. "SOE." And then her eyelids start closing. She's too tired to stay awake. Sleep is a too tempting idea for her to fight it in such a state. Jones calls for Roe, afraid that she might die right there before him - before they get to know any reportable information about her -, but the arriving medic reassures him that she's just on the way to fall asleep.

Speirs comes rushing in soon, casting a swift glance at the broken-looking group of boys as he moves to the back, only coming to a stop when he's directly next to Doc and Jones. They tell him all the - very little - news they're able to and he orders Webster to bring her to the company CP, saying that they'll keep her under watch and that when she eventually wakes up, someone's gonna interrogate her.

As Web's carefully moving with her in his arms to the other building, his ears catch an almost inaudible mutter coming from the girl and he instinctively leans in closer to be able to hear something maybe useful.

"Ich weiß nichts davon- (I don't know anything about it)" her voice cracks and her arm that's not pressed into the man's body jerks violently as she's fighting the obvious nightmare, her head whipping around. "Ich hei��e Lotte! (My name's Lotte)"

Webster doesn't know what to do as she shakes unstoppably - should he wake her or not? With his grip tightening around her body to keep her from falling, he tries mumbling a few reassuring words close to her ear in hopes that it would help - and it seemingly does as her twitching around kinda lightens. Arriving to the CP, he lays her on the now free couch - with Lipton finally agreeing with Speirs' words to go to the back and rest in a real bed -, and after moving the blanket gently on her, Web moves back to the other side of the room to sit down there, keeping an eye on her as he was told.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next morning (y/n) wakes up to the voices of several men quietly speaking around her, and for a few seconds the same edginess fills her body as the one she's been almost constantly feeling in the past weeks, but then her mind finally catches up with her ear and processes the words that are spoken in English - not the German she's used to.

She slowly opens her eyes, squinting at the sudden light even in the dim room and trying to remember where she is and how she got there. Just as faint memories of a grenade explosion, shouting American soldiers and being carried in the arms of someone with gunshots slamming into the ground all around enter her mind, one of the men notices her wakefulness and signals to the others to let them know as well.

(y/n) watches one of them rush out of the room while the rest of the group stays where they've been, on the other side of the room, in a loose circle. With her hands finding support on the sofa next to her body, she pushes herself up into a sitting position, her eyes never leaving the men in case they reacted to her movements. But they don't, all of them stay as still as statues right until someone enters through the doorway - and with a glance his way, she can wordlessly confirm to herself it's not the same one that has just left. The men seem to stiffen and stand straighter before the newly arrived one signals them away and except for one of them they tardily leave the room.

The officer - that one's obvious after a second glance at his uniform and seeing the way he communicates with the others - pulls a chair to the middle of the room and sits down on it facing her, while the other - who's face she finds faintly familiar but has no idea as to where from - stays in the back, leaning against the wall.

"I'm Captain Speirs," the officer says and her eyes focus back on him. "101st Airborne Division of the US Army."

He waits for her to answer, but she stays silent, waiting to hear what else he has to say - but it's hard to start this kind of interrogation for him, not knowing what to do with the woman claiming to be British who was captured by the Germans.

"Your name's Lotte?" First it seems like a statement, but the end of the sentence comes out more like a question and (y/n) raises an eyebrow in surprised confusion. How does he know about that?

"Lotte?" She asks back.

Speirs glances back towards Webster for a moment who simply shrugs, then turns his hazel eyes back to her. "You said that yourself in your sleep."

Ah, damn. This will get her in serious trouble one day - speaking in her sleep, chattering around.

"That's my code name," she nods, only hoping that she won't reveal too much with this information. "As an agent."

"Who do you work for?"

"That I can't tell you, I'm sorry."

Ron raises an eyebrow as a response and (y/n) lets out a sigh. "Look, I really can't say more, the most I can is that I work for the United Kingdom. For the Allies."

"You're British?"

"I am. Born in England."

Ron watches her tilt her head to the side as she speaks the sentence with a curious glint in her eyes. All thoughts that it might be a trap start to fade away the more he hears her obvious accent - that can't be learned if she was actually a German and only pretending to be English. Still, all the secrecy surrounding her, keeping her in a metaphorical fog from his eyes doesn't let the slight doubt disappear as well. When he doesn't say a word for more than a minute, another sigh escapes her lungs and she turns in her seat so her feet hangs off from the side of the couch and her upper body is supporting itself against the back-rest.

"My name's (y/n) (y/l/n), I volunteered to join the organisation in 1943 and had jumped into Germany in March 1944. Got captured by a group of German soldiers this January."

"What were you doing here?"

She turns her eyes to the ground, two parts of her mind fighting each other. One says she should answer honestly - these are American soldiers, allies, for Christ's sake, and she's already said a lot of things - and one says she should divert the question because what she's doing is a secret, one that she's swore to keep even if it cost her her life. Barely any people outside the organisation know about its existence.

"Well, since you won't answer, I'm gonna have to guess. Since you're a secret agent who's working for the British government, I'd say you were doing espionage and sabotage actions."

Oh my, she's said too much, everything about her has become obvious... She must be more exhausted than she thought.

Speirs stands up, and raising a hand pushes his fingers in his hair, deep in his thoughts. Though before anyone could say or do anything else, Babe Heffron enters the room and tells his superior how Captain Winters has asked to speak with him. Ron signals at Webster to stay where he is and walks out through the doorway.

"The Germans talked," Nixon announces as soon as Speirs enters Winters' make-shift office in another part of the same building. "They say the girl's a British spy."

"She won't say much, but that's what I figured as well," Ron nods.

"We're trying to get in contact with her superior, whoever it might be," Winters joins the conversation as he's systemizing the papers on the desk with his just finished reports.

"She's a part of a secret organisation, sir, so it won't be easy, I guess."

"Maybe we should let her use our radio to do it herself," Nix suggests with a shrug.

And that's how a couple hours later - during which Doc Roe finally got a chance to attend to her bruises and wounds, and dictate some hot food into her - she finds herself sitting in a different room, feeling much better already as her fingers carefully try to get connection with the HQ of the Special Operations Executive under the watchful eyes of a few American soldiers.

In the end (y/n)'s ordered to stay with the company that has found her until she got better, wounds healed and strength back to normal before getting further orders. They have to check first anyway if it's safe enough for her to go back to her previous position or if the Germans know too much about her already.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day Easy's pulled back to Mourmelon and she travels in the jeep with the captains - Winters, Nixon and Speirs. Since they've already heard the full conversation she had with HQ and so they know about the SOE, she's more willing to answer their questions about what she was doing in Germany, how she got there, what training she got beforehand, et cetera.

The more he learns about the young woman, the more amused Ron feels. He can't shake the thought that he's never met a more badass woman than the girl sitting next to him. All his life, when he thought about the female part of the population, he knew that if he ever got himself a girl, it should be someone strong, daring and fearless. And it wasn't easy to find someone like that - until suddenly this British spy appeared in his life.

After arriving, the soldiers get a proper meal first, then everyone's dismissed to rest anyhow they choose to. (y/n) goes back to the room they've assigned for her, still feeling the past weeks' exhaustion creeping up on her and after changing into the American uniform Captain Winters got for her - so she doesn't have to walk around in her torn, dirty clothes anymore - she falls asleep on the inviting, soft mattress. When she wakes up drenched in sweat and panting hard, it's sometime in the middle of the night already, everything's quiet around her and only the light of the moon comes in from the darkness through the window.

She stands up, stretching her muscles and trying to calm her shaking body before slipping on her boots again and putting on the probably unused - almost still crispy - jacket before silently moving out of the room. The cold, February night air fills her lungs and cools her warm and sweaty skin under a short second immediately after she exits the building. Slowly starting to walk next to the wall, she lets herself drown in her thoughts again.

"You runnin' away?" A voice asks from the dark after she mindlessly turns in a corner, making her jump and press her palms against her chest, her eyes wide and heartbeat going so fast as if she's just run a marathon.

As she tries to catch her breath, her glance lands on a burning end of a cigarette and moving a bit further up, she meets Ron Speirs' lightly amused, sparkling eyes.

"You scared the shit out of me," she admits, still panting. He says nothing, just continues watching her - a half minute later she gives in, rolling her eyes and answering his previous question. "I'm not running away, just wanted to get some fresh air. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?"

"Can't sleep," he shrugs.

"Nightmares?" (y/n) turns around to lean with her back against the wall right next to him.

"Maybe."

Glancing curiously at him, she waits for a while for him to say something else, but eventually figures that it's all she's gonna get from the man - he's seemingly not one to speak a lot and admit his true thoughts and emotions.

"You're not the only one," she mumbles, turning her gaze down to the ground under her feet as she mindlessly kicks away at random rocks scattered around.

He still doesn't say a word, and (y/n) starts to feel like she's annoying him, that her company is unwanted here but just as she places her palms flat against the wall to push herself away from it, a hand holding a pack of cigarettes appears in front of her eyes. With a swift, hesitant glance towards the man she slowly reaches up to take one and as she places it in-between her lips, Speirs raises his other hand, lighting the smoke for her.

At the sudden flash of light, he gets a better look at her, and his eyes swiftly move up and down her body, taking in the nearly literally breathtaking sight of the girl wearing a uniform, one that's almost like his. Even as the flame dies out from the lighter, the image is right there in front of his eyes - as if it's painted on the insides of his eyelids.

They smoke in silence for a while, both deep in their thoughts - his mainly consisting of how most men find women in fancy dresses and skirts, wearing high heels and make-up the most beautiful sight on Earth, and how seemingly he's just the opposite of that. A woman in uniform, not dolled up at all, radiating such strength and courageous confidence from her whole body that it feels like it's gonna consume him - that's what makes his mind spin and maybe even his heart skip a beat.

"Where are you from?" (y/n) asks a few minutes later, exhaling the smoke from her lungs.

"Brighton, Massachusetts," comes his answer right away. "But I was born in Edinburgh."

"You were?" She asks back in surprise.

Ron nods, taking another drag of his cigarette. "My family moved to the US when I was four."

The girl hums, falling silent for a few seconds as she contemplates his words. "Is it nice? In Brighton," she adds to clarify any uncertainty about her question.

He takes a breath, thinking over his answer before actually opening his lips and speaking up. It becomes the longest sentence (y/n) has heard from him - and it feels like she's finally able to see a little more through the wall around his heart and soul. By the time they finish their second cigarette, she knows about how he got to the 101st, what training they partook back in the States, and where they've been around Europe, what they've done before getting to Haguenau and - unintentionally - rescuing her.

And even though she feels like she'd gladly listen to him talk for hours, days, if she had a chance, a yawn takes over her features and she feels a sudden surge of sleepiness move through her bones and veins.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but I think it's time for me to call it a night. Maybe you should try to get some sleep as well, you deserve to rest properly," she flashes a small smile his way that warms his chest even in the cold winter air.

Stomping out her cigarette on the ground, she raises her eyes once more - only to find him already watching her. "Good night," she nods with the warm look in her glance still apparent, then turns around and makes her way back to her room.

Speirs is left alone with the goosebumps on his skin - ones caused by the way she said his rank - and he stays there for a couple more minutes, thinking about their conversation, about the girl. Then he moves back to his room as well, following her advice - and eventually getting the best sleep he's had in a long, long time. No nightmares, no waking up after seeing his men die over and over again, no trouble falling back asleep with stains of blood and dead bodies appearing in front of his inner eyes. He just sleeps. Peaceful, as he did as a child, with the only dream that appears being one about a woman. Her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next night when (y/n) wakes up from her sleep, she almost instinctively puts the rest of her uniform back on, not thinking just walking towards the same place she found the young man the previous night. She doesn't even know why, but disappointment sweeps in her body when her eyes take in nothing but his absence. Nobody's there, just her.

"Want a smoke?" The familiar voice of Speirs enters her ears only a few seconds later, making her jump yet again.

A chuckle leaves his lips as he watches her spin around, panting just as much as she did the last night. "Would you stop scaring me every goddamn time? You're gonna be the death of me," (y/n) scolds him with a frown playing on her eyebrows, but he can see the playful glint in her eyes that lets him know that she doesn't mind it that much - that she's just glad to see him again.

"Sorry," he says with his lips curving into a smirk that says the complete opposite. As a peace offering he holds his pack of cigarettes out for her, similarly to the first time just about 24 hours ago, and then lighting it for her.

Conversation starts easier this time, even Ron's more willing to speak his mind, sharing his thoughts, asking questions. Time seems to fly as in no more than a blink of an eye (y/n)'s already stomping out her third cigarette. He hesitantly offers her one more, trying to convince the small voice inside his head that he's not doing it to keep her around for some more time. She shakes her head, but doesn't make a move to leave, just keeps on leaning against the cold wall, opening her lips to ask him yet another question.

Only a little while later, when a shiver moves up her body, leaving her shaking and teeth clinking, is when they suddenly realise how cold it actually is to just motionlessly stand outside, and this time Speirs is the one to offer to call it a night.

From that night, it becomes an everyday thing - or more like everynight in their case - for the two of them, no matter how tired they might be the next day when they talked throughout almost the whole night - until the sky started lightening, signalling the closeness of dawn. They stand there, in each other's company, smoking and sharing stories about their lives, getting to know the other more and more.

It becomes the part of his days Ron looks forward the most - sometimes he doesn't even try to get some sleep, just sits on his bed thinking until their unspoken time of meeting comes. She's always joking around, leaving sarcastic comments whenever she has a chance - leaving him amused by how optimistic she can be from time to time even in such terrible times, after all the things she's gone through.

Her quietly ringing giggle and her full-on, bubbling laughter soon become his favourite sounds he's ever heard in his life and he finds himself trying to make jokes himself, coming up with all kinds of funny stories he can just to be the reason she lets out those angelic sounds.

During the days, (y/n) spends her time with Easy company, joining them in whatever it is they're doing, making friends with the men - just enjoying themselves. One time she's just moving between buildings with Joe Liebgott, Babe Heffron and Chuck Grant when Speirs comes walking from the opposite direction, with about four or five packs of cigarettes in his hands.

"Will you leave some for me too, Captain?" (y/n) calls out to him with a mischievous grin and Ron has to bite back the smirk that's threatening to appear on his lips - both from the playfulness of her sentence and the fact that she called him that again.

The three soldiers next to her turn to look at (y/n) as if she's gone crazy, but then they only get even more shocked when their superior answers - especially when hearing and seeing the unusual merriness radiating from him.

"Sure thing, miss."

The girl bites her bottom lip to keep in the giggle, not turning her eyes from his until they pass each other, her cheeks turning slightly pink in the process.

"What the hell was that?" Liebgott inquires with a frown.

"I asked for some cigarettes," she shrugs nonchalantly.

In the next half an hour, the three paratroopers take it upon themselves to fill her in with all the rumours going around the men about the company commander.

That night when she arrives to their usual spot, he's already there. As soon as her eyes fall on him, her lips curve into a suggestive smirk. "It seems like I'm not the only one you like scaring the hell out of," she announces, drawing his attention to her.

Ron raises an eyebrow in question, and she explains in a couple words what she's heard from her friends in Easy that afternoon. He can't help but grin as his shoulders move in a shrug as the routine-like action of him offering a smoke and lighting it for her takes place - it's become such a habit that they don't need any words or thoughts to do it, their hands moving in instinct.

"If only they knew how not scary you are when someone takes the time to get to know you," she sighs.

"Someone as in you?" The corners of Speirs' lips turn upwards into a sly smirk. "You're trying to get to know me?"

"Hey, I didn't spend the past many nights suffering to get information out of you for no reason," she jokes, a small giggle leaving her lips.

"If it's so bad you describe it as suffering, why do you come back out here every night?"

(y/n)'s cheeks burn and she blesses the darkness for hiding it as he now openly teases her. "I guess I like the company too much to give it up," she speaks quietly.

Ron's heart feels like bursting with happiness to hear that sentence - something he never thought possible before.

"Anyway, I might enjoy them being scared of me," he shrugs again, seamlessly diverting the subject as he doesn't know what to say to her confession - he can't just say that he feels the same way, now can he? Even if he does.

The girl raises an eyebrow with an amused sparkle in her eyes, forgetting about the seriousness of the previous moment herself, more than willing to let him change the subject in her slight embarrassment.

"You do?"

Seeing his nonchalant nod she can't help but laugh loudly and sharply and his free hand swiftly comes up to cover her lips and muffle the sound before someone in the surrounding buildings wakes up. For a couple seconds they stay like this, until (y/n)'s laughter dies off, first into small giggles, then into a content silence. Even then, his fingers don't leave her skin, and the more moments pass, the more aware she becomes of his touch.

It feels like her skin is tingling wherever she feels him gently pressing against and the remainder of her cigarette imperceptibly falls to the concrete that's beneath their feet. Ron can't help but wonder about how hers are the softest cheeks, the softest lips - the softest things his fingers have ever touched. (y/n) slowly, very slowly raises her eyes until the (y/e/c) orbs connect with his hazel ones and she gets lost in the intensity of his gaze.

Hesitantly he starts lowering his hand, letting it fall from her face, back to his side - but he doesn't move further, stays right there, close enough to hear and feel her small breaths as they move the air between them. Time seems to stop between them as they stand captured in each other's eyes.

"Ron," she whispers and his eyes flutter shut, heart skipping a beat. He doesn't even know how she knows his first name, but she has never said it before and now hearing it he can't help but want to hear it again and again and again. By the way his breath hitches, for a moment (y/n) fears she said something she shouldn't have, but then his eyes open again and she's taken aback by the emotions flowing in his sparkling orbs - so the fact she called him by his name was anything but bad.

Heartening up from his reaction she carefully reaches out with her fingers until they touch his, pausing for a moment to give him a chance to pull away. When he doesn't move a single muscle in his body, just keeps on watching her, she moves once more, snaking her hands in his and intertwining her fingers with his. For a second or two that seems like long hours for the two of them they stay like that, then out of nowhere Speirs lunges forward and hungrily presses his lips against hers.

She grips into his hands tighter before not much later they slip out of her hold, only to move up to cup her cheek and the back of her neck. He tilts her head further back to have a better angle - to be able to kiss her deeper, and she sighs into his mouth contently, her own arms moving up his back, clinging into his body.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

For the remainder of Easy's time in Mourmelon, off the line, the captain and the secret agent don't spend another night talking outside in the cold February night, smoking. Instead, they do the very same thing inside, in his room - lying in his bed, in each other's embrace, sharing passionate kisses every once in a while. Sometimes to kiss the pain of the past or the uncertainty of the future away, sometimes only because they can't help the overflowing emotions in their hearts and minds - the only thing that seems to matter anymore is to feel each other.

.::the end::.

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[wanna be added to my taglist?]

#ronald speirs #ron speirs #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers #hbo war #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs imagine #ronald speirs imagine #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #hbo war imagine #hbo war x reader #matthew settle #x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x y/n #reader insert #masterlist

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labarboteuse · 4 years ago

Note

Your requests are open?! I'd love to ask for something with Babe, if you don't mind luv 🥰

Hello dear! You asked for it and here it is! Sorry it took so long. I hope you'll like it. Enjoy ! ❤️

As always, there's no disrespect towards the real men of the company. It's only based on their portrayals in the mini serie.

The scarf (Edward "Babe" Heffron x reader)

After months of trying to hide their relationship from others, Babe and the reader are finally getting busted.

Warning: coarse language

Also I’m creating a taglist, tell me in comment if you want to be added and be notified of the following ones! ☺️

Recently arrived in Germany the Company had moved to Landsberg am Lech, a town in Bavaria, and their mission had become much calmer than it had been in Bastogne and Haguenau. Everyone was enjoying the nice weather of April and went about their business while waiting for orders. Y/N had enjoyed this morning to sit quietly in a corner and write letters to her family and friends, informing them she was still alive, that she was fine and that she was now in Germany. She had then gone to the post office where Allen Vest was in charge of the mail.

“Morning Vest!” She sang in a cheerful voice as she approached the counter where she put down her letters and dragged them towards him.

“Hi Y/N, hey, that's a lot of letters for one person.”

She smiled and put her both hands on the counter, tapping the varnished wood with her fingertips. Indeed, she had taken the time to write to her parents, her sister, her uncle and a general letter addressed to her group of friends who met each time to read her letters.

“Yes, I’m enjoying this time of lull, after all we don’t know where we’re going to be sent next time.”

Allen took the letters while gently smiling at her and then went to the back of the room to classify the letters to be sent and rummaging through a pile of other letters he came back to her one in his hand.

“I thought well I saw one with your name on it.”

He reached out to her and was about to add something when the door opened sharply and Speirs appeared with his arms full of objects shining in the sunlight. As he approached the counter, Allen nodded to Y/N to make her understand he had to take care of Speirs. She smiled at him and walked out of the building with her letter in her hands. She immediately recognized the fine italicized handwriting and smiled excited to know what it was about. She walked along the buildings as she read the letter, which provoked a huge smile on her lips when she was suddenly pulled into a corner between two buildings and drawn away from prying eyes.

She began to laugh as the man who had lured her there, placed behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, came to place a kiss on her neck and put his head on her shoulder.

“I missed you so much.”

“We've literally been living together for eight months.” She laughed, placing her hands on his forearms resting on her belly.

“You know exactly what I mean.” He moaned as he put his chin on her shoulder and looked at the letter she was still holding in her hands. “What is it?”

She looked down at the letter and unfolded it to put it in front of his eyes.

“My sister announces me that she’s finally getting married! It's planned for next winter, she obviously hopes that by then it will all be over and I'll be home.” Her voice became lower and dull at the end of her sentence. Of course everyone was hoping for it, but no one really knew what tomorrow was all about and where they would be and when.

Babe tightened his clinch and kissed the top of her head.

“Are you planning to go alone?” His question caused her to pout and then she laughed.

“Are you asking me if, if all this happy mess is over, I'll ask you to come with me?” He shrugged his shoulders and had a sly smile. “We don't even know where we'll be, and let's say we go back, we'll pick up our lives where we left it off, and they probably weren't going in the same direction.” She continued.

She fell silent and stared at the letter in her hands, for the few months she have been going out with Babe she had never thought what would happen once they got home, if they got home. Babe untied his arms around her and slid his hands over her hips to make her turn to him.

“I know that wherever yours goes, I will follow it.”

Her heart clutched to his words, she had not expected him to make this kind of announcement at all, the smile on his face made her melt and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him tenderly and then came to put her head on his shoulder. They stayed hidden like that for a few minutes, taking advantage of finally being able to speak to each other with more than just distant smiles.

Since the Company had returned to England after the D-Day and had met the replacements Y/N and Babe had become inseparable, at last, until they started dating. They had chosen not to tell the others about it so that the others wouldn’t spend their time teasing them. They had managed to keep the secret until now, which had been difficult since they were constantly surrounded by the other men. In order to prevent them from suspecting something Y/N and Babe had to stick to the friendly relationship that the others knew about them. Nevertheless, they had always managed to slip away for a moment for a hug or a kiss, all the way to Bastogne. They had never been so far away from each other when they were closer than ever physically. Being constantly surrounded by others in the middle of the woods and sharing their foxholes with different people, they could only look at each other from a distance. At best, they sat next to each other during the few moments when everyone was together, constantly living with the frustration of, at least, not being able to touch each other's hands.

A couple of times, Babe had managed join her when she was alone, while McClung, with who she was shearing her foxhole, was going out for a ride. But it had happened only a few times, and further apart so as not to arouse suspicion. These times would had been counted on the fingers of only one hand. She too had sometimes managed to join him but unfortunately they were almost never alone. One of the only contacts they could have had without anyone questioning was when Julian was killed, she would have died of pain if she hadn't been able to comfort him, it was the only time they could hold each other without it seeming weird. After that, for several days, it had been unbearable for him not to be able to take her in his arms when it was she who started brooding. To be able to take her in his arms, to interlace her fingers with his own, to caress her cheek and whisper to her that everything would be all right. This time he had been on the verge of cracking up, because instead of his place, there was Toye. Joe was constantly near her to cheering up her moral and several times had taken her in his arms. Bill's recurring jokes about Toye flirting with Y/N were upsetting Babe, who would have wanted told his friend to shut up. Being almost always with Guarnere, he therefore constantly heard his jokes. His only comfort was the smiles and looks of Y/N to reassure him.

But now they were away from it all, they just had to take advantage of the lull that presented itself and allowed them to spend time together out of sight.

“We'd better get to the others before they wonder where we are.” She reluctantly detached herself from him. “You're leaving first?” Obviously they weren’t to be seen coming out of a corner together, that would have been the worst thing to attract attention.

He nodded and kissed her before taking a look at the street so he can get out. Y/N waited few minutes before being able to follow in his footsteps and reached the building where she was staying. Entering the building, she heard noises coming from one of the rooms of the first floor which was a big living-room and headed there. Liebgott was sitting on a chair, crossed legs on the table, was discussing with Popeye and Babe who had probably come here voluntarily to be in the same vicinity as her, which had the merit of making her smile, was leaning next to them against a piece of furniture. She joined them as Alley, Talbert, Janovec, and More arrived in the biggest racket they could make and took their places around the table.

Y/N remained standing on the other side of the table, leaning against the wall, while Babe in front of her was join by Skinny who had just arrived. Her eyes were drawn to something sticking out of Babe's pocket, her heart quickened and she tried to catch his attention with desperate glances, if he didn't notice then they were busted.

A small scarf she had given him was sticking out of his jacket pocket. She had taken with her a scarf that had belonged to her grandmother and that she had recovered when she died. She had always kept it on her ever since and had always managed to hide it so that it wouldn't be taken away like the rest of their personal belongings when she arrived in Toccoa. She valued it very highly, and when she was feeling bad, she would take it out and hold it close to her, remembering happy memories of her grandmother who she missed terribly.

The only person today for who she had been able to part with it, was someone who meant as much to her as her grandmother, Babe. She gave it to him as the most important thing for her, making him understand how much she cared for him. As they didn’t belong to the same platoon they were not always brought to be close to each other, and the scarf was like her presence to him, so that somehow they are always together. Since then he kept it preciously knowing what it meant to her.

When Babe's gaze caught hers, she tried to make him understand that the object was sticking out of his pocket by throwing looks at him and then at his pocket several times before anyone saw it, but he didn't understand and it was too late. Joe had turned his head to address him and his gaze had landed on the object of the crime. With a small laugh he gently pulled it out.

“Well, well, well, what do we have there? Isn't there something you're not telling us Babe?”

Embarrassed, he understood what she had wanted to warn him about and babbled, not knowing what to say. Y/N came to his rescue, looking surprised, she approached Joe and took the scarf of his hands.

“Eh that’s mine! Where did you find it?”

It took Babe a split second before he realized she was saving his ass and played along.

“I found it by chance on the floor this morning and I was going to bring it back to you, it must have slipped my mind in the meantime.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked sorry.

Joe looked at them suspiciously, not at all convinced, his gaze going back and forth between Y/N and Babe who unfortunately always seemed embarrassed. Feeling Joe's insistent gaze on her, she finally dropped a “What?” He squinted his eyes as if he was trying to read her soul.

“Throw out the crap that burns your lips, Joe.”

“Are you two fucking together?”

All heads turned to Y/N and Babe, some surprised, others giving the impression of having heard the biggest gossip of the century.

“No!” They both exclaimed.

“He’s like my baby brother!”

Babe flinched at her words, he knew she was just saying that to keep up appearances, but all the same, this false friendzoning was rather violent.

“So you're fucking your baby brother?” Joe continued with a smirk on his face, still not believing it for a second.

“Jeez, Joe!” She exclaimed in disgust.

Malarky arrived at that moment having only heard the end of the conversation.

“Who's fucking who?”

“Y/N is debauching Babe.” Laughed More.

“Jeez!” Malark exclaimed as he sat down, a more than amused look on his face.

“Stop it! All of you! Nobody fucks anybody!”

Babe was still silent next to her, completely uptight. The boys were laughing at their greatest embarrassment when Luz, who had heard only fragments of the conversation from the next room, arrived with a cigarette lit.

“Who's gonna have a baby?”

Which fueled the boys' hilarity, Y/N raised her hands and clenched them in fists and roared in frustration before going out cursing them. As for Babe, he didn't know what to do, if he stayed there he was going to be teased by his friends, but if he followed her he would agree with them and would grill himself.

With her cheeks on fire, Y/N left the building to get some fresh air, finding a small wall in the shade and, away from the crowd, she sat down and lit a cigarette before puffed at it when a shadow came and hid the sun from her. She raised her head, squinting because of the brightness, and reached out her arm, offering her cigarette to Luz who had just joined her. He picked it up and as he held it to his lips, sat down on the wall beside her.

“You and Babe then?” he asked with a sly smile on his lips. So her diversion hadn't worked, at least she had tried. She turned her head towards him raising an eyebrow, a slight smile on the corners of her lips as she waited for him to pull out a joke. But he didn't, instead, he took the cigarette from his lips with his right hand, and as he blew the smoke, passed his left arm around her shoulders.

“If it had been anyone else, I wouldn't have accepted it. But Heffron? I can get used to it.”

She laughed and took the cigarette from his hands and puffed at it again.

“Is this your way to give me your blessing?”

George was the person she was closest to since Toccoa. Even without the incident that had just happened, he had probably guessed what had been going on for a few months. The two had quickly went together like horse and carriage, they had found each other in their humour, and their ability to make others laugh and make jokes. George soon considered her as a little sister and she as a big brother. As soon as the replacements had arrived he saw that she and Babe had gradually grown closer and that they had probably become more than friends. He had been happy for her and continued to look after her from afar.

“So everyone knows about it? Or did you just sniff it out?” She asked, shoving him gently, which made him giggle.

“Let's say I've seen you gradually change, especially when you're with him.”

If the others probably didn't suspect anything, after the scene that just happened, they will most likely have suspicions.Y/N bit the inside of her cheek and made a grimace that made George smile and took the cigarette out of her hand.

“What are you worried about? No one will say anything, at worst they will tease you for a while before they get bored and move on.”

“That's exactly what we wanted to avoid.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You know it will be just joking, in all kindness.”

She turned her eyes towards him and he gently pushed her around, which made her smile. George was right, there wouldn't be anything mean about it, and she never doubted it, it would just make her embarrassed that everyone would turn to them and tease them every time they were in each other's presence. But as he said, it would only be temporary, the time they spend on something else.

“You're right, it wouldn't be the end of the world, and we wouldn't have to hide anymore.”

He nodded his head and winked at her.

“Listen to the voice of reason.” She guffawed what made him smile, he stood up and kissed her on the forehead before returning to the building. Y/N stayed sitting on the wall for a few minutes thinking about what George had said. She had finally agreed with herself that her fear was unjustified, the Company members were so benevolent to each other, why would they go against this relationship? Other than to tease and embarrass them, what could they possibly say? They were already spending all their time making fun of each other and joking that nothing would be different. It was out of fear of being embarrassed by the mockery of others that they had chosen to hide, when they would only be mocked among so many others. She shook her head gently as she realized that this decision had been ridiculous. To have done otherwise would surely have saved them from frustration when they had found themselves far away when they needed each other the most. They had to stop hiding, and once the others knew about it, they could enjoy each other in peace. Loud noises of voices caught her attention and she turned her head towards the group of men a few yards away. She put out her cigarette and stood up to see what was going on. Two groups had formed, one playing soccer and the other surrounding them, each one cheering for the team they stood for.

She saw Babe from afar and made her way to him. As she stood next to him, she slipped her hand into his as he turned his head towards her with a questioning look. Y/N gave him a warm smile that he returned to her. To hell with what they might say.

#band of brothers #babe heffron #edward heffron #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers request

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anthrobrat · 4 years ago

Text

The Great Chocolate Heist of 1945

Merry Christmas!! Hello @papersergeant-pencilsoldier it is I, your Secret Santa!! I am so excited I got to write a little 2nd Platoon BROT4 The Last Patrol extra scene for you. The story is a little weird (and not christmassy at all, sorry) but I do hope you like the friendship and hilarity of these boys!!

TLP BROT4, Rated G, 1500 words

“No patrol tonight, moving off the line tomorrow. Chuck am I dreamin?” Liebgott yells across the room as their leaders exit the room, followed quickly by Web and Jones.

“If you are, we all are.” They all shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulder.

The rapid mood change from anxious and angry to relieved and relaxed was palpable as everyone milled about, congratulating each other on their luck that day, and making plans for finally moving off the line. They all knew better than to get their hopes up, but it was difficult not to with the announcement Major Winters had just made.

Chuck had smiled for the first time since November, and everyone was caught in the good mood, not wanting to ruin it by mentioning that Winters had told them they were moving off the line twice since Foy and neither had panned out. But the Germans were very close to throwing in the towel at that point, so maybe this would be the last time they’d have to worry about falling artillery or snipers.

“So, are they gonna make us look like we’re preparing for this again tonight, or does this mean we get the afternoon off?” Babe asked as he pushed his chair back and cupped his hands around his metal tin of coffee, placing first one then the other leg onto the table.

“Lieb.” McClung walked up from his spot crouched against the wall across the room. “You should ask Web when he gets back. He left after them, I’m sure he’s got a better idea than us. Not like we’ve ever faked a patrol before.” McClung’s deadpan as he sat down at the table made them all laugh.

“You think Winters has either? He’s straighter than an arrow,” Lieb answered, and then snarled as an aside: “Although maybe Dog and Fox have been running fake fucking patrols this whole time. It would certainly explain a lot.”

As more guys filtered out of the basement to find other ways to entertain themselves, the room ended up with just the four of them at the table. Babe, Liebgott, McClung, and Chuck drinking coffee and smoking the Lucky Strikes that Luz had pilfered from somewhere or other.

“Guys, I have an idea,” Babe declared between his third and fourth smoke.

“Ah fuck, Babe, not again.” Chuck tipped his chair back and looked toward the ceiling. Lieb laughed, knowing exactly what disaster Chuck was thinking about.

“Nah, this is a good one,” Babe said, putting his coffee down and lacing his hands behind his head, trying to look confident. “Lieb, you think there’s more Hersheys bars in the stash you pilfered from yesterday?”

“I don’t see why there wouldn’t be, unless fucking Nixon ate them all.” Liebgott didn’t bother denying his transgressions. Anyone with eyes would have seen him the day before enjoying the spoils.

“So here’s what I’m thinkin’. We plan our own patrol tonight.” Babe raised his eyebrows like he had said something so brilliant that the rest of them should bow down or something. He picked up his cup and finished off his coffee, twirling the empty tin mug in the air.

“What are you, Billy the fucking Kid?” Chuck said, making Liebgott laugh while Babe scowled at them both.

McClung chimed back in. “Billy the Kid, huh? I see it, saying you want to sneak into CP to steal fucking chocolate. Just waltz right in?”

“You think it can’t be done?” Babe fired back, cigarette bobbing as he spoke, fingers twisting the mug around like he couldn’t sit still.

“I mean, the man’s got a point, McClung. It’s barely illegal, and we deserve it. Plus, ain’t no sign of Sobel with his ‘army property’ bullshit. I’m in.” Liebgott opened his jacket then, and pulled out a piece of paper with writing on one side. He unfolded it so the blank side was facing up and began to draw a sketch of the CP, with a big X where the chocolate had last been spotted.

“I guess we’re really doing this then,” Chuck sighed, before he let the front legs of his chair touch the ground again and leaned in to look at their amateur blueprints. He pulled the pencil out of Liebgott’s hand, marking up the map and motioning with his middle finger as he explained the plan they’d need to pull this off. “Here’s our perimeter. Babe you’ll be lookout, McClung you’re lead scout. Once you clear the rooms off the foyer, Liebgott and I will come through and--”

“Yea yea, we’ll check the last places chocolate was spotted, and if there even is any left we’ll grab as many as we can carry. I know my job,” Liebgott took the pencil back and tucked it into his ear before lighting another cigarette.

McClung took one more look at the map before folding it up and handing it back to Liebgott.

“So we meet outside OP2 at 2300 hours,” Babe stage whispered, “and if the coast is clear, the heist is on.”

“Babe, we’re stealing chocolate, can you calm down?”

“Chocolate or no fuckin chocolate, Lieb, it’s still a heist. What should we call it? A fucking patrol?” McClung put his hand out to Babe’s chest to calm him down, because who gets worked up over chocolate? On the other hand, it felt like they really didn’t have much else to live for at this stage of the game.

“Relax, Babe, we’re in, alright?”

“Yeah yeah, alright, Chuck. You better be there tonight. I’m counting on your leadership.” Babe winked and laughed, diffusing the sudden tension.

“Heard Lip’s getting his battlefield commission before we get back to base. You think they’ll have him transferred?” Lieb asked no one in particular as they all got up from the table and made their way back out to the street.

“Nah, I bet Winters’ll figure out some way to keep him with us at least until we cross the river,” Chuck said over his shoulder as they made their way back to their billets.

H-hour rolled around quicker than anyone had expected, with Babe the last to arrive from his outpost duty at 23:05.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to ditch Shifty. He got so suspicious I thought I’d have to invite him along.”

“It’s okay,” McClung nodded at him, “I already promised him I’d get him a bar.”

“You told fucking Shifty?” Liebgott yelled toward the sky. “Who else knows? You guys are the worst.”

“First off,” Babe scoffed, “did any of us actually keep our mouths shut?”

Chuck laughed and kicked his boot against the ground, and Liebgott gave them all an angry stare. Footsteps along the road made everyone duck into the adjoining alley.

When the footsteps had moved on, it was time to put their plan into action. Except no one moved.

“We sure it’s in there?” Babe asked, looking up at the darkened windows on the first floor.

“Fucking positive, Babe. Unless Shifty beat us to it, since people can’t keep their fucking traps shut.” McClung shrugged at Liebgott’s jab in the darkness, and Lieb pulled his map out once more and shined the flashlight on it. “Ok, if we go in this back door it’ll be about 50 yards in on the left.”

“I’d say it’s more like 75,” Chuck chimed in, trying and failing to keep the humor out of his voice.

“I just wanted a fucking bar of chocolate,” Babe interjected. “Lieb didn’t share any of his, and I promised Gene. I owe him a chocolate bar.”

“You told—“ Liebgott began to yell before he reined himself in, spun around, leveled a glare. “You told the Doc?”

Babe was about to reply when Chuck stepped between them.

“Where the fuck did McClung go?”

“He was just here, I don’t fucking know. You didn’t see him?” Lieb asked.

“Well I certainly didn’t see him, I was looking at your map.”

Just as their voices began to raise, the door banged open and out stepped their missing brother in arms.

“It seemed like that argument might take a while, so I went ahead and grabbed the chocolate.” McClung handed two bars each to his open mouthed comrades, who pocketed them silently.

“Well,” Babe stuttered at last, “I suppose that was a pretty successful heist.”

“No thanks to you.” Liebgott punched him to emphasize his point.

“Or you,” McClung said around a mouthful of chocolate. “Anyway I gotta go bring this to Shifty, I’ll see you fellas later.”

At that, McClung meandered off back down the alley, contraband chocolate in hand. Babe scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders, and ran to catch up. Chuck and Joe followed quickly behind, still laughing at the confusion on Babe’s face.

“You think Gene will like my present? It’s not quite the Belgian chocolate that he gave me, but I still wanted to give him something.”

“Babe. It’s chocolate. He’ll like it.” Liebgott slugged him in the shoulder. “But you’re a sucker for giving up your second bar of chocolate.”

“Hey Chuck! You hear that! He says I’m a sucker! We’ll see who’s the sucker when I get stitched up before him.”

They all rolled their eyes, but Babe knew he was right. He also knew every one of them was going to end up splitting their chocolate with someone. He was just smart because he picked the medic.

#hbo war secret santa #hbo war secret santa 2020 #preseennttsss #merry christmas lovey #band of brothers fic #my fic #brotp #the last patrol #joseph liebgott #chuck grant #babe heffron #Earl McClung #my emotional support brot4

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