summary: Daeron and his darling wife enjoy an evening in the gardens of Summerhall...
content/warnings: mentions of Daeron's alcoholism, dragon dreams, dry humping, mentions of pregnancy/future children/trying for a child, Daeron x fem!reader, no physical description of reader besides mentions of having breasts, reader is of some random noble house, no targcest
authors note: a giant thank you to the sweetest Marina @therealslimshakespeare who was so supportive during the writing process <3
credit: mdni banner made with a template by @cafekitsune
floral banner by @strangergraphics , bottom one flipped by me (hope that's okay)
title from the Audrey Hepburn quote "To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow."
It wasn’t quite summer yet but the days were long and the air was temperate and heavy with the scent of flowers. The gardens of Summerhall were not a place Daeron sought out of his own accord. The wine had led him to many places though, including the rosebushes and parts of the hedge that separated different areas of the grounds. Your lap made by far the most comfortable resting place in the entire garden though. It was an odd sensation. Love. A weird mix of affection and heat, security and malaise that ravaged his insides. Leaving his heart soft and his cock on the perpetual brink of hardness. Daeron knew that he was close to sleep. The sun absconding, leaving the sky in twilight, and the soft symphony of bird song and leaves rustling in the wind alone would have lulled him to sleep even without the everpresent aid of Arbor Red in his blood but he did not succumb to it. Though the fear of dreams was substantially dulled by your mere presence and the warmth of your thighs against his cheek, comforting even through layers of fabric.
No, what kept him from slipping away into slumber were the nimble fingers that passed through his hair.
The family had decided to host a feast that they were to attend at sundown and that in addition to his overwhelming adoration and care of his love had led him to the baths that afternoon. He had returned with his golden hair shining and the expanse of his milky skin feeling raw but soft. Not as soft as yours did but he suspected that its softness was beyond comparison.
Daeron hid his smile against your skirts, contemplated biting the fabric in jest as your fingers got tangled in his hair and you had to tug them free. It was the sweetest torture of your own making as he had combed through his hair after the bath, trying to give you a handsome prince to look at instead of the usual dirtied drunkard.
The back of your fingers caressed down his cheek in apology but he couldn’t help but nip at them when they touched his lips. Daeron’s incisor just barely brushed your skin but you indulged him by holding your fingers close enough that he could taste your skin, run his tongue between your fingers and feel the warm metal of your rings scratch against his lips.
When you withdrew your fingers it was gentle, cupping his face mindful of his spit on your skin, before he could whine about the loss. You had to bend a great deal to press your lips against his hair but the small action left him smiling. The soft pressure of the kiss left him torn between hiding in your skirt and leaning into your touch.
“Daeron, darling dearest, will you sit up for me?” He couldn’t help but feel the words as well as he heard them, said against the crown of his head. He waited for you to withdraw so he could follow your request and sit up without ramming his cursed thick skull against your loveliness.
He had to use both hands to push himself, clinging to the blanket beneath you until his head stopped spinning. Not from the wine for once as he had barely drunk since noon, only enough to keep the shaking at bay, but from the sudden movement. Rising from rest too fast tended to bring him to his knees on any day but before long he was sitting upright in front of you. “Is this satisfactory, my love?”
“Almost.” The fabrics of your dress rustled behind him before your fingers found his hair again and you gently pulled his head back until he was looking at the dimming evening sky instead of at the rose bushes. The blood in his veins started rushing, warm and pleasant all through his body, as he leaned back into your touch. The subconscious reaction almost distracted him from realizing the subtle familiarity of the position you found yourselves in.
Your fingers started tugging more, brushing away the hairs that framed his face, dividing it in a way he couldn't explain only feel, and Daeron realized that you were braiding his hair back. You did quick work since his hair barely brushed his shoulders and you only weaved together small strands of hair yet Daeron found himself wanting to ask you to slow down, to take your time so that he may enjoy the feeling of your fingertips dancing along his scalp for longer. But you had already finished braiding half his hair back.
It was only when you took the first hair from the other side of his face and started working it back that he recognized your plans for his hair. Not from memory but from a dream, and the shock of that alone made him crumble, falling as if he was a marionette whose strings had been cut.
It was as if he had been set alight. Everything burned. His heart, his head, his skin. Those cursed tears welled in his eyes but he dared not open them out of fear of what he would see.
His dreams only brought death and destruction for longer than he could remember. That damned dream hadn’t been one of his dragon dreams though. It couldn't have been. It was only an odd fantasy, one he’d never allowed himself to consider in his waking hours, yet that fact alone had to be the determining factor that brought on the conclusion of his utter cursedness. For it only left two explanations. Either a wicked part of Daeron existed, buried so far inside him that he had never dared to dig and reveal, deeply desired what he saw in his dream or it truly was an inevitability waiting to come true.
“Daeron?” You gently shook his curled up heap and he had no strength to protest. Your voice was soft but he could hear the underlying fright, concealed as not to spook him further. It was a voice one would use on a child and he just flinched further into his misery. “My love, tell me what’s wrong!”
He just let himself be gathered in your arms, selfishly soaking up your comfort as if he himself wasn’t the source of all the distress. Your own and his.
“I dreamt, my darling.” He finally confessed, whispered as he did not dare speak louder. “I dreamt that we were sitting here, in the garden of Summerhall, and you braided my hair from my face.” He paused and swallowed, almost choking on the sour words stuck in his throat, while you cradled him against your chest. Daeron could hear your heart racing and it hurt.
“I dreamt that once you were done weaving me a golden crown you tied it up with one of your ribbons and then a little girl came toddling to us and put flowers in our hair.”
The words tumbled from his lips without pause. Without a breath. It was a wretched confession which made it all the more shocking to him when you pulled him closer to your chest instead of pushing him away in disgust.
“A girl?” You breathed and Daeron could hear your blood rushing from where his head was pressed to your chest. “Ours?”
“I’m sorry.” He whispered.
You pet his hair, the carefully braided strands coming loose under your touch. “Soon? Oh what are you sorry for, my love? This is joyous news! We’ll have a child!”
Both your hands cradled his face, shaking as you pulled him into a kiss, tasting his tears, before you used your sleeves to wipe them away.
“She had my family's hair but for a moment, a single breath, I thought there’d been a way to trick fate but then I saw her eyes and knew. This innocent babe cursed with our wicked blood.”
Fresh tears fell but you just wiped them away again, kissing his cheeks after.
“Not all is doomed, my dearest. Your uncle and his sons were quite sane. And one might say your father has all his wits about him as well. There are no stories of a dreamer making another dreamer so our child shall not gain your affliction.” You pulled away and took his face into your hands again, making him look at you and your beautiful smile, eyes brimming with unshed tears of happiness. “If anything she’ll be the sanest of us all for I am so madly in love with you.”
Daeron's heart ached as you kissed him again and again. Your sweet hands were pulling at his hair and clothes until you were laid out on the blanket with his weight on top of you. So enveloped in your touch, your smell, your taste, it was easy to forget himself. You felt so wonderful beneath him, your shape meant to fit with his. Your legs parted to receive his heft, skirts fanned out around you. So many layers separating you from each other yet he felt himself harden as if you were bare against each other. His hands trailed your body, attempting to pull on the fabric as he moved himself against you, lost in your mouth and trapped in your arms.
“Like this.” You gasped, bucking up your hips until his trapped length met your core in a way that made your whole body shudder. Daeron heeded your wish and continued to thrust against you, not frantic as his heart felt but in the rhythm you commanded of him. You’ve released his lips but he dared not pull away, letting you push his head until he could taste the skin on your neck, feel your words rush through him.
“I’ll talk to the maester about stopping my tea.” Daeron nipped at your throat, stealing your breath, kissing down to the swell of your breasts.
He could feel his yet unspent seed aiding the glide where it dampened his trousers. He’d dreaded talk like this for as long as the two of you had been betrothed yet in the throws of passion it almost sounded like a pleasant idea from your sweet lips.
“You’ll ease up on the wine, dearest, won’t you?”
He stopped for a moment before his own neediness spurred his ruts on again, your breathy whines adding urgentness to his continued fucking of your clothed cunt.
“She’ll be healthy. A good babe. A blessing. She’ll be a sound mind if you’ll make her without drink.” You rambled on, gasping as he thrusted, his large hands pawing at your breasts on the wrong side of painful. They would swell if you were with child, grow even more sensitive under his touch, his mouth. Daeron renewed his efforts, determined to bring you release before he reached his own peak, desperate to be a good husband.
You held him close, not allowing for him to retreat, as he made you fall apart under him. He continued to thrust through his release, changing the angle to spare you the unpleasant feeling of overstimulation but going on until you stalled him, your hand fisted in his hair, tugging your mouth to yours, devouring each other until you were forced to separate to breathe. Daeron buried his head in your breasts, letting his body weigh yours down until you protested, then rolled to your side. For the first time since his confession he realized that the two of you were under the open sky, exposed to the world. The sky that only just clung to the last sliders of light of the day and he could see the moon looking down at them. It was pale like the hair of the little one.
“We’ll be late to the feast.” He finally forced himself to say, voice rough.
“Yeah. And we’ll smell like one of your whore houses,” You replied, coercing him into sitting up. “Look like it too.”
Your fingers began combing his hair again, making quick work of it before fixing it with a thin ribbon. Not in a braid but tied back enough that it didn't fall into his face anymore. He heard you work on your own head as he stood up, holding out a hand to help you up once he managed to stand somewhat steady on his feet. Your dress had gained a significant amount of creases and wrinkles but no stains as far as he could see.
“We’ll show our faces, eat, and then retire. Your father should be happy you don’t smell like wine.” You began to walk towards the castle, leading him by the hand as he obediently followed.
“We won’t tell them about the girl.” You decided and all Daeron could do was nod even though you couldn’t see him behind you. After all he'd done, he didn't dare tell his father about his dreams. Even the lone good one.
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When Everett Blakely lands Just A Snappin on the hardstands of Thorpe Abbotts, the only thing on his mind is getting out of his flight gear and into the Army's sad excuse for a bed. That is, until he's being offered a whiskey for his troubles by a girl with the most vibrant green eyes he's ever seen. Given a nudge in her direction by someone he'd least suspect, Ev takes a chance with the green eyed Clubmobile girl from Brooklyn who's piecing back together her own jaded notions about love.
Also on AO3!
Eight to The Bar
Everett Blakely & Valencia DiRosano
Eight to The Bar: The Playlist
Part 1: You Go to My Head
Part 2: I've Got a Crush (On You)
Part 3: The Way I Am
Part 4: The Wee Small Hours of The Morning
Part 5: As Long as You Follow
Part 6: Hallelujah, I Love Her So
Part 7: Every Time We Say Goodbye
Part 8: We'll Meet Again
Interludes
Over The Threshold
Val’s Birthday Blurb
Media & Edits
Valencia DiRosano Bio
Gene Tierney as Valencia DiRosano
Hi Chickies, welcome! Come on in and take a look around. This blog is nsfw-ish, so proceed accordingly.
My ask box is always open for literally anything. If you’ve got a question, request or you just want to come say hi & have a chat, I’m all ears! If you’re looking for something specific and can't find it, give me a shout and I’ll do my very best to make it happen!
So please, grab yourself some coffee and a donut on your way through, and welcome to The Clubmobile.
Enjoy! 💗
Find these & more on AO3
Masters Of The Air
Love Letters
Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal & Josephine Harris
Eight to The Bar
Everett Blakely & Valencia DiRosano
————————————————————————
Band Of Brothers
Hey Nurse
Joe Liebgott & Reader
I couldn’t let November 8th go by without acknowledging Val’s birthday. So with that said, I wrote a little something for The Gal on her special day. I hope you all enjoy it! 💗
“Is she still sleeping?”
“Yes, and by the looks of it, not planning on joining the land of the living any time soon.”
“Shh, be quiet or he’s going to startle and she’s going to be pissed.”
Crowded onto one bed, Olive, Helen and Tattie sat watching as Val continued to snooze peacefully. Curled up on her own bed with Meatball tucked up against her side, the three women waited patiently for her to wake up. Murmuring softly, Val snuggled closer to the Husky, a soft sigh escaping her as she continued to dream.
“Oh Ev, that’s nice…”
Unable to hold in her laughter at that, Olive let go of a cackle that echoed through their hut, her eyes wide as Tattie slapped a hand over her mouth. It was no use; the sound had startled Val awake, and caused Meatball to huff indignantly before jumping from the bed and trotting over to Tattie’s to curl back up on. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Val stopped when she saw all three of her friends watching her with smiles on their faces.
“Uhm… Why are you three watching me? Was I drooling?”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
“Oh Jesus, shush!” Val winced, their shouting and the lack of coffee too much for her first thing in the morning.
“Nooo, no,” Olive shook her head, coming to pull Val from the warmth of her bunk. “Today’s your birthday Chicken! Time to get up!”
“But it’s warm under my blankets!”
“There’s a handsome pilot waiting to walk you to breakfast.” Helen sing songed, coming to help Olive pull her from the bed.
“What about-”
“Not today,” Tattie smiled. “Today, you have a nice breakfast with Blakely. We can handle the truck, no one’s going up today.”
“You’re giving me a day off, Tat?”
“He asked nicely, what can I say?” She grinned, watching as Helen and Olive successfully pulled her from the bed.
Stumbling to the bathroom, Val made quick work of washing up before coming back out to put on her makeup and take out her rollers from the night before. Checking her watch, she knew she had about fifteen minutes before Ev would knock on the door of their hut, and she didn’t want to keep him waiting. She methodically pinned her hair before applying her lipstick and rouge, catching sight of Helen in the mirror laying out her dress uniform instead of her regular jumpsuit.
“Thanks Hel.” she smiled at her in the mirror, the brunette beaming back at her.
“You’re welcome. Hey, do you always dream about Ev when you’re cuddling the dog?”
“You know,” Val heaved a sigh as she stood to get dressed. “When I asked if I was drooling, you three conveniently left that part out.”
“Oops!” She giggled as Val narrowed her eyes, the top of a crush cap went past the windows above their beds. “Better hurry and get dressed, birthday girl, your man is here.”
And so the day had started with loud declarations of wishes from her three best friends before she was whisked away to the Officers Mess for breakfast with Everett. She hadn’t griped about the powdered eggs that morning. She was working on accepting that she was the one having coffee poured for her. It was something that was not lost on Ev as the kind gentleman who served in the Officers Mess approached them, a small pot in hand. Her eyes had gone wide when he asked her if she wanted another cup, and Ev had nodded encouragingly before she had replied yes, please. They had chatted quietly over toast; of birthdays past and traditions back home. If you wiped away the setting around them, they were just a man and a woman having a quaint breakfast, celebrating a special day that wasn’t tainted by the war. And when Everett pulled the keys to a jeep from his pocket, childlike glee on his face as he held his hand out to her, she knew that he was just one more birthday tradition she would get to enjoy as the years went on.
He had spent the day walking through town with her, indulging her every time she pulled him into a shop. He stood back and watched as she browsed the small makeup counter in the general store, encouraging her to pick something she liked so that he could treat her for her birthday. He had simply smiled as he handed a few notes to the woman working the counter before handing the package to Val, who tucked it into her purse with a smile. She had balked when he pulled her into the bakery, insisting on splitting something since he couldn’t get her a birthday cake. And by the time dusk had fallen, they were seated at a table in the pub for dinner. The owner of the Half Moon Pub grinned when he spotted them, pointing over to the corner of the room where Val was expecting a table for her and Everett, but stopped in her tracks when she found that all of their friends were already there waiting for them.
“Hey, there she is!”
“It’s the birthday girl!”
“About time, I was getting hungry!”
The pair squeezed into two empty seats, Olive and Doug on one side, Helen and Rosie on her right. Tattie and Jack sat across from her, with the rest of Rosie’s crew and Croz filling in the gaps. She was missing so many people around this table, and yet, the ones who did fill the seats made it their mission to remind her of how loved she was, and how much she did have in her life despite the missing pieces. And so they ate, and drank, and drank some more, the conversation never ending even as the pub grew louder around them. So loud that she didn’t notice Doug whispering something to Ollive, who nudged Tattie, while she was laughing at something Pappy was saying. She didn’t recognize the distraction of Croz telling her all about what Jean was getting up to back home, until the person who had been playing the piano in the pub began playing Happy Birthday, and Tattie was placing three very familiar looking donuts stacked onto a plate in front of her. Dougie’s zippo was alight in her hand, and the entire pub was singing to her.
“Nooo, come on you guys!”
“Happy birthday dear Vaaaaal! Happy Birthday to youuuuu!”
“Oh my god, this is way too much!”
“Oh, blow out the lighter and make a wish, Chicken!” Olive had crowed from her seat next to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into a hug.
“Fine, okay, okay…” with a deep breath, she closed her eyes and made her wish, though she was sure everyone at the table knew what she was wishing for. “Thank you, I mean it, this has been such a nice day.”
“You deserve it.” Tattie grinned, tossing the lighter back to Doug.
“Yeah, we all love you, DiRosano.”
“Is that sentiment I see in your eye, Jack?” She had narrowed her own eyes at him, unable to stop from laughing when he rolled his eyes, Tattie placating him with a pat on the back.
“Yes it is, now, enjoy it while it lasts. Tomorrow I go back to being the Wicked Air Exec of the Control Tower.”
“Does that make the boys your flying monkeys?” Helen sniggered, causing Croz to choke on his drink as the rest of the table around them laughed.
Everyone fell into easy conversation, the donuts picked over by the group as the drinks continued to flow and music continued to play. The other girls had broken off to dance with the respective fellas, Rosie and Croz each taking Helen for a spin so that she wouldn’t feel left out. Val just caught Ev standing, offering her his hand so that he too, could take a turn on the dance floor with her.
“You know,” she murmured, lips pressed to his ear as he gently swayed them. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”
“I know I didn’t have to,” he replied. “But, I wanted to.”
“I would have been perfectly content with dinner in the mess hall and dancing in the Officers Club.”
“I know that too.”
“Hey Ev?”
“Yea sweetheart?”
“Thank you,” pulling her face from where she was nuzzled against him, she was beaming as he caught her gaze, and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her full on the mouth, with everyone around them. “I love you…”
“Not nearly as much as I love you, pretty.”
After two more songs, she caught him passing the keys to the jeep they had come to town in over to Dougie, who pocketed them and gave him a wink.
“Can I give you your present now?”
“My- what? You did so much today, that was my present wasn’t it?”
“It was, but I have one more thing for you.”
“Everett!”
“So?”
“Yes,” she conceded with a smile. “But I’m telling you now, it’s too much,”
“Come with me.” He grinned, taking her hand and leading her towards the back of the pub, away from their friends and the crowd, towards the stairs that led upstairs to the rooms.
Letting her go first, she climbed the stairs carefully, waiting for him to join her and explain what they were doing up there. Turning, she caught his gaze as he joined her at the top of the stairs, pulling a key from his breast pocket and moving to one of the doors.
“Are we… did you?”
“Are we staying here? Yes we are.”
“Are you crazy! You spent more than enough money on me today!”
“Would you stop, please, and let me spoil you just a little bit?” He opened the door and ushered her in ahead of him before he closed it behind them, locking it so they wouldn’t be interrupted.
“This is way more than spoiling me, Everett!”
“Just you wait till the war is over and we get home, then we’ll see about really spoiling you.”
“That’s my purse,” she spotted her bag sitting on the small desk in the corner. “And your jacket.”
“Very good,” he teased. “You’d make a great spy.”
“Olive and Doug…”
“Yes, now, get comfy, because we have the whole night to ourselves, and if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to spend it curled up with you.”
“Oh, that is not too much to ask at all, Major.”
And so they found themselves under the patchwork blanket that covered the double bed, the mattress just soft enough that it was like sleeping on a cloud compared to what Thorpe Abbotts was passing off as mattresses. The window was cracked, letting in just the right amount of a breeze, and the small lamp on the night table was the only light in the room. Their soft breaths were the only sound that filled the gaps between light conversation. Just two people wrapped in each other's arms with the promise of the future, and a birthday wish that Val hoped would come true.
“Your present is still waiting to be unwrapped.”
“Don’t need it.”
“But…”
“Tomorrow…” she murmured happily, face pressed against his chest, the soft smattering of hair just under her cheek. “Right now, I’ve got everything I need right here in this bed.”
“Okay baby, if that’s what you want.”
Just as she was beginning to doze, sleep tugging at her gently, Val couldn’t help the contented sigh that passed from her lips, shuffling down under the blankets and holding on to Everett just a little bit tighter.
A post-war interlude in the Eight To the Bar series.
When Valencia had written home in August 1943, she wasn’t sure how her mother would react to the news that she had met someone. She’d been through it before; once, where she had gushed over a wonderful man that had only ended up hurting her, only after she’d given all of herself to him. When she had spent hours crying on Curt’s shoulder, never fully divulging to her mother what had happened. Only that, her wonderful man had found someone else.
Her mothers first letter had been what she expected. Skepticism and worry for her daughter; so far away and falling in love on a whim with a pilot. But as time wore on, and Everett remained part of her letters her mother seemed to warm up to the idea of him. It was a letter in March of 1945 that had surprised her- the parlor floor in her childhood home, a gift for them both, should they choose to start their life in New York after the war.
A building that her father had saved to purchase when they immigrated from Sicily, and that her mother had kept pristine after his death. She’d collected rent from tenants for years, and to know that her mother was giving up the rent on that floor for her and Everett, well, that meant something. Everett was excited at the prospect, writing to his own mother back in Seattle to invite her to meet him in New York, to meet Val, whenever the time came. But he knew his sweethearts family relied on that rent, so he made a promise to his mother in law that they would continue to pay rent until they found a place of their own.
So, they had stayed, and lived in the DiRosano home while they worked on their own fixer upper. It had taken them six months into their marriage, plus the eight months prior, to get their forever home ready. Not going far from her mother in Bensonhurst, they were making the ten minute move to Dyker Heights.
Now, the day was upon them, and he wasn’t surprised to find her sitting in the bay window in their now vacant parlor floor apartment, knees tucked up to her chest as she watched the leaves fall over Bath Avenue.
“Honey?”
“Hmm…”
“Val, all that’s left is, well, us.”
“Okay…”
That’s when he saw the tears in her eyes. He rarely ever saw her cry; there had been only four occasions; when Curt went down, VE Day, when he proposed, and the day they got married. He could count it all on one hand.
“Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?”
“I’m being silly,” She furiously wiped her eyes. “It’s not like the house is going anywhere. Mama and this place are staying put.”
“It’s okay to feel sad,” Coming to sit behind her, he pulled her back against his chest. “You lived your whole life here. We started our life here.”
“You’re right…”
“Of course I’m right. Now come on, I want to carry you over the threshold of our house.”
“Charmer,” She scoffed. “How many thresholds have you carried me over now?”
“Hmmm, this will make three,” He murmured, pressing his lips to the underside of her jaw. “The hotel in Palm Beach on our honeymoon, this place, and now…”
“Hmm, I see your point. Lots of new rooms to christen, too, Mr. Blakely.”
“Exactly,” He grinned against her cheek. “What do you say? Ready for the next adventure Mrs. Blakely?”
Turning from her spot, she wrapped her arms around him, carding her fingers through his already mused hair, the curl that fell over his forehead landing right back in place. Everett pulled her into his lap with practiced ease, holding her close as she took her time letting her hands explore him as they had done countless times before. Nosing against him, her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled his scent, the cologne he had put on after his shower that morning now mixed with the scent of a hard day's work. She had never loved a single scent more than that of her husband.
“Take me home,” She whispered, teeth closing over his earlobe, tugging gently. “But first, one more for the road.”
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Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Eight
Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)
After a week of restlessness, the aftermath of Africa is upon them, and Val must decide whether to sink or swim. Will she fall back into the confines of her walls to protect herself, or will she let love and friendship guide her through?
Part Seven
Follow along with the Eight to The Bar Playlist
This chapter is 18+ only. Please use judgement before continuing.
Africa was… well Africa was a lot of things. Hot, dry, sandy, and missing his girl. One of the first things he noticed when they landed, aside from Croz kissing the ground, was the small number of forts that seemed to be on the ground with them, or approaching in the distance. The airstrip had been a tricky find, blending in with the monotonous sand color that seemed to encapsulate their new location. But, between Dougie and Croz, they had landed safely and without incident. The same couldn’t be said for everyone else.
And then he heard it.
Ten chutes. It was nine. No, definitely ten. Biddick.
He felt his blood run cold, eyes frantically searching the wind swept airfiend for Wild Cargo. Nothing. He kept searching, trying to focus on something, anything that could confirm that the dread he felt creeping up his spine was needless worry. That Curt Biddick was going to land in a flourish- better late than never, Blakely- and with a cheeky grin wander off in search of trouble. Benny DeMarco caught his eye, his expression stoic and with a small shake of his head, Everett Blakely knew. Curt Biddick was not landing in Africa.
“Well, I’m pretty sure this ain’t Valhalla…”
To his right, Dougie was taking in the scene ahead of them. Harry Crosby to his left, brown eyes wide and taking stock of the number of forts, and bodies exiting them. He seemed to pick up on what had Ev standing so still.
“Blakely…” Croz mumbled, eyes still fixed straight ahead.
“Yeah Croz?”
“How many are you counting?”
“Eleven.”
“Jesus…” Croz sighed, and Ev could hear the broken sound coming from the back of his navigator's throat. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Harry.”
He never called him Harry. Not unless it was absolutely serious, and Wild Cargo missing and Curt not having landed was serious.
“Who’s not here?” Dougie turned, and the minute Ev caught his eye, he knew that Dougie knew. “Christ, no.”
“Yeah… I need to talk to DeMarco.”
“Ev, she’s gonna-”
“I know, Doug. I know.”
Quickly, he divested of his sheepskin and mae west, tossing both back into the belly of the fort before jogging over to where Benny DeMarco stood with Bucky, the pair under the shade of Mugwumps wing, looking on as Buck Cleven brought his fort down on no engines and way off the mark of the runway. Bucky looks about ready to start the good natured ribbing as Buck comes to a stop, and he’s barely aware of Jack Kidd coming up beside him.
“Biddick… he’s not…”
“I don’t know Jack,” Everett sighed. “Going to talk to DeMarco now.”
“Let me know, okay? I’ll find a way to get word to her if we need to.”
“I know,” he turned to him finally, and saw that Jack was genuinely concerned for Curt, as well as Val. Not as hard as he wants them all to think. “Whatever it is, it has to be me that tells her.”
“I’ll leave it up to you then. Just let me know.”
Everett nodded in thanks before continuing on to Benny, who had departed as soon as Buck Cleven was on solid ground in favor of letting the two Major’s have a moment.
“Benny…”
“Wild Cargo bailed over the IP.”
“Jesus Christ…” Everett dragged a hand down his face, grimacing at the thought of Curt abandoning his fort, or at least, keeping it steady so his crew could bail. “How many chutes? I’m hearing-”
“How do I tell her…” he groaned, catching someone being carried from the fort Buck had just landed. “Benny, she's going to be devastated.”
“Let me know how I can help.” Benny clapped him on the shoulder, just as Ev caught Buck Cleven’s attention, the other man dragging his tired body towards where he stood.
“Blakely…”
“Buck, how many did you see?”
“We counted ten.”
“Over the IP?”
“Yeah… Dickie was hit. I’m not sure how bad but, he got out.”
He was left alone then, the men who were safe scattering to their own forts, assessing the damage and trying to figure out their next move. Just A Snappin had taken some flak damage, but nothing that had him worried about making it home. The real damage was somewhere on the ground near the IP, and encroaching slowly and silently on the woman who had kissed him goodbye and sent him off earlier that day.
“FUCK!”
—————————————————-—————————————————
Chick Harding’s office was many things. Clean, but somehow messy with paperwork, and always like walking through a cloud of smoke. Every time Valencia found herself in his personal space, behind the typewriter, there came a point where the smoke from her cigarettes and his cigars would intermingle and she’d lose track of who was smoking more. But there was also something a bit therapeutic about being up in his office- fingers flying across the keys, the notion of being trusted by the Colonel to see things not typically meant for the eyes of a Red Cross volunteer and yet, there she sat, typing away as he rattled off details and dates. You know I’ll find out one way or another, Chicky- and then he would roll his eyes with a wry smile and tell her to keep typing.
She had been up in the office more than usual the last few days; with most of the men still not having returned from Africa, the need for coffee and donuts had dropped with the number of mouths to feed. Still, she would enter his office with a tray for him and Red, two piping hot mugs and a few donuts and if they were lucky, a newspaper from home for them to peruse. Chick would grunt out a response and then inspect the donuts for traces of Benny DeMarco’s best friend, the Husky attached to the girls more than usual with Benny still not back, and Red would usually smile, pick up the newspaper and immediately flip to the sports section with a polite thank you at her gesture. Today was no different.
“Thank you, Miss Val,” Red nodded with a smile, opting to take the seat across from her at the desk she was occupying. “Always appreciate when you bring up some fresh coffee and a bite for us.”
“Well, someone has to feed you two. Sometimes I wonder if you and Chicky ever leave this office.”
“Could say the same about you these last few days,” he folded the paper into his lap, picked up his coffee and fixed her with a look over the rim of the mug. “You up here because Chick needs you typing all of this, or because you want to stay busy while the boys are still away?”
“Bit of both if I’m being honest,” Val sighed, and with a quick flick of her wrist, sent the ribbon on the typewriter back to the start before focusing on Red completely. “My nerves are shot, Red.”
“I see you worrying that rosary between your fingers every day…”
“Even when he’s here I carry it, that’s nothing new.” Val shook her head, desperate to change the subject. Her eyes honed in on the paper, open to sports, sitting on Red’s lap, and she took the opening.
“Reading up for Egan’s sake?” Nodding to the paper with a smile, lighting a cigarette.
“Somehow I think Egan’s getting his sports scores in Africa,” Red laughed. “No, I’m checking the scores for the women’s baseball league back home.”
“I heard about that. Those girls really are something.”
“My sister tried out back when the league started, and she’s been playing for South Bend.”
“No shit!”
“So, even though the papers are usually a few days old, and the scores are outdated, I still like to know how her team is doing.”
“And? How is South Bend doing?”
“Heading to the playoffs it seems.” Red grinned, giving Val a little glimpse of him as just a big brother, proud of his sister.
“Good for her! What’s she play?”
“She’s the second baseman- basewoman?”
“She plays second base; got it.” Val laughed.
“You remind me of her; determined, and she never took any of my big brother crap growing up.”
“You say that because I don’t take Curt’s crap?”
“You don’t take anyone’s crap, Valencia,” Red sighed with a smile as he stood. “Not even Chick’s.”
“Where would the fun be in that if I did?”
“Thanks for the chat, Val. I know who to suss out if I want to talk baseball.”
“Unlike John Egan, I won’t try and turn the 100th into a minor league team between missions.” She winked, standing from the typewriter and stretching.
His laugh as he walked away was all the response she needed. When she heard him greet Olive in the hallway, the Brit’s cheery greeting reaching Val’s ears and soothing something within her, she knew that it was either lunch time and Olive was coming to drag her from the typewriter, or there was news.
“Chicken, you’re still here?”
“Of course I am, Ol. Where else would I be?”
“The truck? It’s almost chow, and Tattie has run to fetch the mail.”
“She left Helen alone with Meatball?”
“Nash is with her.”
“Oh how sweet, is he pouring coffee too?”
“He would if she asked him to, I’ve no doubt about it!”
Lighting another cigarette, Val turns back to the typewriter, mumbling around the lucky strike about how she’s almost done with this last report and then they can go.
“Steady on, Brooklyn, you’re chaining them!” Olive laughs, but it quickly turns to a wince as Val turns a furrowed glance her way.
“Well, it’s hard when you have to read about what your future husband sees up there and what he has to do in this damn war,” Val grumbled. “Would you like to know what yours is doing? Come over here and look.”
“Husband? Ha! Very funny Val.”
Taking another long drag of her cigarette, Val catches Olive wince for the second time that afternoon, her own gaze fixed on the monotonous back and forth; bring the cigarette from her lips to the ashtray next to her, and repeat. But Olive is watching her in such a way that has Val stubbing out her half finished smoke in a fury.
“Why must you do that? You smoke just as much as I do!”
“I’m not judging you for smoking…”
“You wince every time I bring the damn thing to my lips, Ol!”
“Oh! Oh, god, no that’s not why,” Olive shakes her head, and Val raises an eyebrow as she waits for Olive to elaborate. “I’m just not used to seeing anyone really smoke indoors. It was banned some years ago… or rather, it will be banned.”
“Smoking is banned?!” Val crows.
“No! Only smoking inside. If you want to smoke in the future you need to go outside to do it. Would lose my damn mind if I couldn’t smoke at all!”
“What about when it’s raining? Or cold?”
“Outside.” Olive nods in confirmation.
“Oh no thank you! That’s terrible!” Val shudders as Olive pulls her pack of cigarettes from her jumpsuit, flopping down in the chair that Red had been occupying previously, and lighting two. She hands one to Val with a smile before settling into her seat.
“Well look at you, adapting and things!”
“Shut up.” Olive cackles, a cloud of smoke enveloping the two girls as they continue to carry on with laughter, the report behind the ribbon of the typewriter forgotten about momentarily.
They’re broken from the spell of girlhood as the door swings open with a gusto, and the ever booming presence of Chick Harding fills the entryway of the office, with Red Bowman behind him. The door is closed much quieter than it had been opened, Chick grinning as he spots Olive sitting in the chair across from Val. He has his arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to appear stern, but the small smirk on the Colonel’s face gives way to the fact that he does have a soft spot for the two women sitting in his office, and he can’t really hide it as well as he would like to.
“Ah! Just the two gals I was hoping to find!”
“You knew I was in here Chicky.” Val purses her lips as she looks up at him.
“Well, I didn’t know Lewis was with ya.”
“Both here, sir.” Olive replies sharply, standing from her chair.
“Don’t look so grumpy, English.” Chicky grins, catching on to the new nickname that seems to be making its way around base for their British Red Cross girl.
“I’ve got every right to be grumpy,” Olive replies while turning to him, her voice the definition of sweet as pie. “You said, and I quote ‘see ya’ll in a few days’ and here we are pushing a week!”
Val catches Red holding back a smirk as Olive does her best imitation of the good Colonel, but she’s not as subtle, letting go of a laugh that has Chick glaring at her with all the frustration of a father and his daughter, which only makes Val laugh harder.
“Are you two done?” Chick looks between the girls, catching Red’s hidden laughter, he wastes no time in throwing his friend in front of the bus as well. “Don’t encourage em Red, that wasn’t funny.”
“On the contrary, Chick, it was.” Red grins.
“Right, well, yes, I did say a few days, Lewis.”
“So, do you American’s run on a different fucking schedule, or…?”
“Ol! You’re eating the poor guy up, girl!”
Val stands from behind the desk and comes around to stand with Olive, giving her friend a soft whack on the arm in solidarity. She’s fully prepared for Chick to turn his scowl back on them, eyes practically narrowed to slits as he fixed them with that intimidating glare he was known for, but when he began laughing, Olive couldn’t help it and joined it. When she covered her mouth with her hand to try and hide her snort, Val broke out in laughter all over again. It’s Red who breaks the silence, his voice quiet now, almost meek as he addresses the two girls standing in front of him.
“About that…” His voice barely registers, but Val picks it up instantly.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Red!” Her tone is a lot sharper than it had been during their earlier conversation, and it takes him a moment to realize he’s genuinely struck a nerve. “I’ve been in this office for two hours!”
“He was afraid you’d start shoutin at him,” Chick shakes his head before continuing. “He thought if Lewis was up here with you, you might take it a bit better.”
“Well you were wrong on both counts, sir.” Olive narrowed her eyes at him, the lighthearted sarcasm from moments before, gone.
“They’re coming home tomorrow.” Red is quick to reassure both girls as Chick ducks out of the line of fire to slide behind his desk. Just as the Colonel brings a fresh cigar up to his lips, he drops the second half of the news.
“They just need to drop some bombs on Bordeaux first.”
“Bordeaux!” Olive shouts, her voice in tune with Val’s as she shouts a resounding what to both men. “Are you taking the piss?”
“Valencia…” he drawls, looking over at her, his confused face meets her stoic before he continues. “Translate, please.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” Val replies, hands on her hips.
“No I’m not fucking kidding! Translate that!”
“That’s what it means, Chicky,” she sighs. “Are you fucking kidding!”
“Oh, well no, Valencia I am not kidding.” He looks at her a bit nervously, and she wants to laugh but she knows it will ruin all her credit as the resident hard ass of Spaghetti n Meatball, so she steels her face and remains stern.
“Fuck sake, Chicky!” Olive crows from next to her, her arms coming up in exasperation before flopping down to her sides.
“Y'all can’t be that bored! Ya got those new replacements keeping ya company! Rosenthal and his fellas seem to be attached to you four like glue,” he takes a deep puff of his stogie before blowing the smoke out into the room. “And that dang mutt.”
“As wonderful as their company has been, they’re not James and Ernest.” Olive sighs.
“Who the hell is Ernest?” Red interjects from where he’s still standing.
“She means Everett.” Val clarifies.
With a sigh, she roots into her pocket for her cigarettes. Quickly lighting one, she takes a deep pull, her shoulders drawing up to her ears, before exhaling a perfect stream of smoke from between her lips. Seeming a drop more relaxed, she strides over to the whiskey decanter in the corner of the room, Chick giving her a slight nod of confirmation as she pours two fingers worth into one glass, before doing the same in a second for Olive.
“That’s his middle name?” Red questions after a beat, his brows knitted together in confusion.
“You two have his paperwork,” Val glances over the edge of the glass as she brings it to her lips. “You tell me.”
“You’re gettin on my nerves, Valencia…” Chick drawls, standing and following her earlier movements to the whiskey decanter. He quickly pours himself a measure before doing the same for Red. She knows he’s not being fully serious, but she feels some sort of pride that she’s made him stew if only a fraction of the amount that she’s been all week.
“Good, then you know how we feel.”
“You've been nervous, I know.”
“Going to need a new Rosary soon, Chicky.”
“That day ever comes, I’ll walk into a church and get it for you myself.”
“Better have the fire marshall on standby.” Olive snickers from behind her.
“Ha ha, are you two done yet?”
“Don’t know, you got any more reports?”
“Not today, no. Go on now, scram.” he jokes, pointing to the door.
“I better not find out you lied, or I’ll send the dog in here.” Val threatened.
“Tomorrow, Valencia, we’re not lying,” Red nodded, giving her a look that told her he was telling the truth. “And please, keep the dog out of the office.”
“Fine,” she replied curtly. “But only because Red asked so nicely.”
“Had enough of y’all for one day. Giving me a headache.” Chick jokes, shaking his head as he takes another swig of his whiskey.
“Couldn’t possibly be all the cigars and whiskey, Chicky.” Val rolled her eyes with a smile, knocking back the rest of her drink before pulling Olive out of the office with her.
“Go on!” He hollered after them.
“Mission complete!” Val giggled as they exited the office, arm in arm, to join Helen and Tattie back at the Clubmobile.
Following the sound of the Clubmobile’s newest addition, a phonograph, the girls listen as the music playing from the back of the truck gets louder. It arrived in the latest supply shipment from The Red Cross just two days after the boys had left, and the four girls had wasted no time in putting it to good use.
“Couldn’t miss us now if you tried!” Val grinned.
“In this fog? Just blast the Andrew’s Sisters and there we are!” Olive cackled.
“Wait, you know this song?” Val turned to her in surprise, the chorus of Don’t Sit Under The AppleTree carrying across the tannoy.
“Sure do! Pearl loves this song!”
“Oh how darling!” Val gushes, giving Olive’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Also explains how you dance so well.”
”Oh, that’s just a good partner.”
“Well, you’re not wrong there,” she agrees. “I’ve seen Dougie dance, and he certainly takes you for a spin every time!”
She just barely catches Olive’s grin growing wider as they reach the truck before it gives way to sadness at the mention of Dougie. She realizes then that it’s been almost a week since she’s danced with Everett or felt his arms wrap her up and hold her close. With a sigh, she gives Olive another squeeze, her arm wrapped around her shoulder, before she leaves her to light up a cigarette and clear her own head. Quickly, she makes the three steps up the back, finding Tattie inside with Helen.
“Girls, are we missing someone?’ Val looks around, taking stock of the inside of Spaghetti n’ Meatball.
“Meatball is asleep in the front.” Helen gestures to the cab of their truck without even looking up from her magazine. No one ever goes up in the front unless they need to move it into the garage for maintenance and even then, it’s usually Kenny or Wink that does the driving.
”The front of the truck?”
”Drivers seat,” Tattie chuckles.“He kept trying to sleep in here but we kept disrupting him, so I opened the door and he hopped right in. Curled up and was out like a light.”
”He’s getting restless too. I know he misses Benny.”
“Speaking of restless parties,” Tattie smirked. “You’ve got mail.”
Reaching into the pocket of her jumpsuit, Tattie pulls an envelope from within before handing it over. She snatches it from her without so much as a word, green eyes bright with happiness at the messy scrawl of her name on the front. She heaved a sigh as she tore into it without ceremony, dropping onto the stool that Tattie had just vacated. She was vaguely aware of her speaking to Olive outside on the grass, her focus entirely on Everett’s handwriting that was just for her.
Heya Sweetheart,
I miss you. I’m not even going to try and sugar coat it. Africa is hot, and there’s sand everywhere, and I just want to come home to you. We’ve ventured into Marrakech and met some of the locals which has been about the only fun while we wait for our next set of orders. Bucky’s traded his crusher cap for a fez and pinned his oak leaves into his new hat- quite the sight and I’m sure he’ll be eager to tell you all about it when you see him.
I found you something in one of the market stalls, but you’ll have to wait until I get back to find out what it is. I hope you like it though. Your gift may not be the only thing us fellas come home with. Egan and Doug have taken to, of all things, a Donkey. They’ve named him Moe and are trying to convince me and Cleven that we should bring him back. Have I mentioned that I just want to come home?
I hope you and the girls are staying out of trouble. A tall order, I know, but please try. For me at least. Hopefully the fellas that are still on base have kept you company, and Meatball isn’t giving you too much trouble. DeMarco misses him, and I only know this because he keeps whining about it. He’s a good dog though so I can see why, but baby, I miss you way more. I promise when I’m back we’re going on a proper date, just me and you. I don’t care if it’s just to the pub in town. I just want to be somewhere quiet with you.
I love you, I love you, I love you, Val. I’ll be home soon.
Yours,
Everett
She had to read it over again, not just for the declaration of love at the end, but to make sure she got it right. A fez cap for Bucky, the street markets in Marrakech and…a Donkey?! Everett had to be pulling her leg with that one, but as she heard Olive cackling from where she had left her on the grass, she couldn’t help but wonder.
“Ol?!” She has her head out the window of The Clubmobile in a flash, Helen right next to her as they spot Olive holding her own letter and laughing loudly.
“Val! Come here!”
She’s down the stairs in a flash, Helen hot on her heels as they join Olive who simply hands her letter to Val for inspection. As she begins reading, she stops just as Helen exclaims what Val was now sure was true.
“A donkey?!” Helen asks, clapping a hand over her mouth to quiet her giggles. “What in the world!”
“Oh, that’s not even the best part!” Olive is still giggling as she gestures to the end of the letter. “Read it out loud, chicken, go on I trust you.”
Val shakes her head before doing her best impression of Doug, reading the last few lines of his letter to Olive.
Know that you are always in my thoughts, from the moment I wake until I rest my head at night. But even then, you fill my dreams. You are and always will be the only girl for me. I hope.
“I HOPE?” Val concludes, eyes turning on Olive wide as saucers, shock and disbelief etched on her face. “What does that mean!”
“Beat’s me,” Olive laughs, dropping her head to Val’s shoulder as she takes the letter back. “Oh lord, what have I gotten myself into?”
“You love him, chickie, that’s what.”
“Yes,” Olive finally replies, cheeks glowing a bright red. “I do love him.”
“Love him enough to take in a donkey?”
“I think he’s only joking…” Olive trails off.
“You hope,” Val nudges her in the ribs with a grin. “According to Ev, this is a two man show. Dougie and Egan have both taken a shine to that ass.”
“Oh no…”
“Oh yes…”
She feels lighter, relief settling over the girls as they realize the boys are safe. They would be home tomorrow, and Val already felt more like herself knowing she would be wrapped up in Everett’s arms soon, that her family would be whole again and they would be one step closer to ending the war and going home.
Tonight, she would set her hair and make sure she had a fresh coat of varnish on her nails. She would take extra time to help Olive do the same, knowing that Helen, as well as Tattie would be joining them even though Tattie didn’t want anyone to know she had her eye on Jack Kidd. It would be a tried and true girls night, even with Meatball in the hut with them.
“Val, are you painting his nails?”
“He’s sitting so good for me! Look!”
“Benny is going to have your head for that,” Helen laughed, but not one to miss out; dabbed a bit of her rouge on the husky’s cheeks. “Even if he does look so handsome!”
“I’ll deal with Benny,” she grinned, applying the final coat of varnish to his little toes. “He won’t be able to stay mad at me for long.”
——————————————————————————————————
Morning came quickly, and with it, excitement. All of the girls jumped out of bed at the sound of their alarm clock ringing, the four of them rushing into the washroom to splash cool water on their face, remove their moisturizer from the night before and brush their teeth. There was extra care in their makeup application, and Val had pinned Olive’s hair for her before doing her own- let’s get you all pretty for Dougie.
Helen was first out of the hut, taking Meatball on his morning walk to the truck so that the three girls who were anticipating their sweethearts return had a few extra minutes to make sure every hair was in place and their lips meticulously painted red in preparation of welcome home kisses, no matter what Tattie said about her and Jack. The Just A Snappin boys had surely been missed, and while Val couldn’t wait to wrap Everett in her arms and welcome him back, she also couldn’t wait to see Curt, two feet on the ground and that cheeky grin on his face as he told her how dusty Africa had been, as if she didn’t already know it was a sand pit.
“Excited to see Dougie?
“It’s the longest we’ve been apart since I got here…”
“I know chickie, but just think, now he can finish his declaration of love!” Val grinned teasingly.
“I could have just killed Croz for interrupting him.” Olive groaned, dropping her rouge back into her makeup pouch.
“This hasn’t been pleasant at all,” Tattie sighed, pulling on her uniform jacket. “They’ve been gone way too long.”
“Tat, do you miss Jack?” Val teased.
“What? No!”
“Katherine Spaatz…” Olive narrowed her eyes at her, lips pursed as she sized her up.
“Wow Olive, my full name huh?”
“Yeah, now be honest. Have you missed him?”
“I guess I have, yeah,” Tattie admitted. “I’m not sure what’s going on. I missed all of the fellas but, yeah, I missed Jack.”
“Well, I for one think it’s sweet.” Val stood, pulling on her own jacket before tucking her rosary into one pocket, cigarettes and lighter in the other.
“You’re just floating on cloud 9 because Ev’s coming back and he promised you a special date.”
“Ol! You told her?”
“Sure did,” Olive joined them at the door. “If you and Ernest disappear we need to cover for you!”
“Just make sure Ernest uses protection,” Tattie narrowed her eyes playfully at Val before tossing her a condom. “But just in case, I want my girls to be safe.”
“Safe, but not abstinent, Tat?” Val teased.
“This is the Red Cross, not a convent. And let me tell you, your man is damn handsome so I won’t blame you.”
“That means she’s thinking of doing it with Jack.” Olive grinned, pulling the door open and stepping outside.
“If she hasn’t already!” Val chimed in, watching as Tattie lit a cigarette and rolled her eyes.
“I have not done it with Jack.”
“But you want to…”
“You two are insufferable, just like the men in your lives.”
As they approached the Clubmobile, Helen was pouring coffee for Doc Stover, who was on his way to the interrogation hut so he could give anyone who passed through a once over. His trusty pipe was wedged between his teeth as he gave Meatball a little affection while he waited for Helen to finish up.
“Do you want anything else, Smokey?” She leaned from the window with his cup, waiting for him to make a decision.
“Do we have any newspapers?”
“New York Times,” she mused, looking under the counter. “Hmm, The Post, and Val’s Screen Romances.”
“I’ll take The Times, please Helen.”
“You got it.”
Coming up behind him, Val couldn’t resist teasing him.
“What’s the matter Smokey; my magazine’s not good enough for you?”
“I don’t need to know who Bogey is smooching, Valencia.”
“You’re missing out,” she chuckled. “Lots of pretty gals in there.”
“I’ll pass,” he shook his head before turning to them fully. “Are you girls setting up interrogation?”
“We are,” Tattie nodded. “Going to brew a fresh urn and have some of the boys carry it over. We’ll get the donuts and whiskey over while that brews though.”
“Okay. Let me know if any of the fellas give you grief and I’ll get it done.”
“The fellas who would give us grief are the ones flying home.” Val winked with a smile.
“Well no matter, just let me know.” He nodded as he walked off to the hut to meet whoever was already there.
“Thanks Smokey!” Val called after him.
“I’ve already got one brewing for interrogation,” Helen winked from her perch inside the truck. “All we need to do is carry over the snacks and whiskey.”
“You’re a doll, Helen.” Olive grinned, making her way into the truck to begin securing what needed to be transferred.
“Who wants to get their fella to carry that urn?” Val singsonged, looking up at Helen.
“Why are you looking at me?” She blushed.
“Because I said fella,” Val replied, moving to the back to grab the crate with the empty glasses. “Our fellas are all flying home…”
“Nash isn’t my fella…”
“No? So I saw you smooching someone else outside the hut last night?”
“You saw me!?”
“Sweetheart, you were right in front of the window.”
“Oh no! That means Red saw too!”
“What did I see that I wasn’t supposed to?”
“NOTHING!” All the girls yell at once after hearing Red sneak up on them.
“Mhmm. You girls just, try and remember they still gotta fight the war, yeah?”
“We know, Red.”
“I’m not against any of you bein happy.”
“Aw, that’s sweet of you Red!” Olive grinned, leaning down from the hatch with his coffee.
“Thanks Lewis,” he nodded, accepting the cup. “You and Douglass need to stop being out past curfew though.”
“What? Us? No, never!”
“She’s starting to sound like you, DiRosano.”
“Everett and I are never out past curfew.” She grinned.
“Then I saw someone else coming back from the hardstand in a jeep last week.” His thick brows raised, mustache twitching as he tried not to laugh at the horrified look on her face as it appeared in the hatch of the truck.
“Sorry?” She squeaked.
“And you,” he looked over at Tattie. “I’m not sure I want to know if what I think is true is actually true.”
“Not sure what you mean, Red.”
“I’m tied up in the gossip of this place and I’m not sure how it happened.”
“Just drink your coffee, Red.” Olive laughed, coming out of the truck with a tray of donuts before winking and making her way across to interrogation.
“She’s right,” Val added on as she descended the three small steps to follow Olive. “Just drink your coffee.”
By the time the girls had set up the front of the interrogation hut, Rosie and Pappy were lifting the urn full of fresh coffee onto the table behind Helen. Nash was supervising- flirting with Helen- while Speas had offered to help out with getting the snacks organized with Val.
“You boys are good eggs, you know that?”
“Even Romeo over there?” He rolled his eyes, gesturing to Nash.
“He makes her smile.” Val replied, ushering him back around to the front of the table so that he and the boys could get out of the way of the fellas that were expected to be landing any minute.
“Do you girls need anything else?” Rosie turned, dusting his hands off.
“We’re all set, thanks fellas.” Olive grinned, coming to join Val where the donuts and whiskey were laid out.
“See you after,” he grinned. “Good luck!”
“How about a quick smoke before the boys come stomping their dirty boots in here, hmm chicken?”
“Sounds good, yes please.” Val heaves a sigh, coming around the table to join Olive.
Throwing an arm over her shoulder, the two make their way outside into the sunshine to wait for the arrival of B-17s that would bring Thorpe Abbotts back to life.
The rumble of the forts approaching comes as the girls are standing outside, and Val immediately turns her face to the sky to find a cascade of B-17s in a perfect line approaching the airfield. Her red lips stretch into an impossibly wide smile as she grabs Olive in excitement, the two of them feeling immediate relief at knowing that both Everett and Doug are just moments from entering the hut.
“Come on you two,” Tattie calls from the door with an equally excited smile. “Let’s get that whiskey poured so they have something when they walk in.”
“Yes ma’am!” Comes their reply in unison, the two running into the hut together.
The sound of the jeeps is not far behind the roar of engines, and suddenly the raucous chatter of the men that had been gone for the last several days fills the air, and sets the entire place alight again. As each crew enters the hut, the relief seems to melt from the boys upon seeing the girls. Whiskey is passed around with warm and welcoming smiles, the girls doing their best to acknowledge each face as it passed them while still looking out for those of their friends and their fellas.
Benny is the first of their gang to step foot into the hut, and Val sees him make straight for Olive who is already arms open wide for her friend, a drink in hand. She assumes he’s asking about Meatball, and when she hears Benny say he’ll come get him when they’re done, she knows she had been right. She sees Benny take down the whiskey Olive had offered him in one shot before he’s making his way towards her. His expression looks somber but she chalks it up to exhaustion and gives him her best smile and cheery disposition.
“Cugine!” She beams, opening her arms for a hug.
“Val… I’m so…”
“Tired? Yeah, you look it!”
“I’m sorry, I…I’m sorry.”
As he walks away, she turns to Olive, but before she can ask her what that was all about, Dougie’s voice booms through the hut demanding that everyone in front of him get out of his way. Val just catches him making a beeline for Olive before she spots Everett directly behind him pushing his way through to her. In a flash she’s in his arms, safe and content, his face buried deep in the crook of her neck. She can just make out the sound of him breathing in her perfume as she cards her hand through his unruly curls. He’s home and she feels like she can finally breathe for the first time in a week.
“Hi honey,” she murmurs, tipping his face up to get a good look at him. “Welcome home.”
“Baby…” he catches her lips quickly, the noise at the back of her throat fizzling out as he pulls back to look at her. “Val, I..”
“Let me guess, you forgot my gift in Africa.”
“No, no that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“I need to tell you something,and I-”
“Don’t tell me. Curt’s cooling his heels outside?” She cuts him off as she promptly looks over his shoulder to see if her friend had barged through the door yet.
“No, sweetheart,” Ev sighs, and she can see his face pale before his next words leave his mouth. “Curt’s not here.”
“Well where is he?”
“He… Val he never landed in Africa.”
“What do you mean he never landed in Africa? Everett!”
“He never made it,” his words sound muffled as she starts to feel like she’s slipping under water, her head spinning as he says the next half of his sentence. “He bailed out over the IP.”
She’s not sure where the noise is coming from, but the Interrogation hut is suddenly filled with the sounds of shrill screaming, and she feels hot all over, like someone has turned her inside out and placed her over a bed of hot coals. Her legs feel weak and she can’t seem to fully grasp that the screaming is coming from her until Everett is holding her arms in his hands to stop her from hitting him. When did she start hitting him? This was every nightmare come to life- that dream before they left was nothing more than a premonition- a world without her best friend, her brother. A life without Curtis Biddick.
“Val, Val, baby come on, hey, look at me!”
“You lied!” She screamed, wrenching her arm from his grasp and hitting him again. “Why! Why did you lie!”
“I didn’t lie,” he sighed, pulling her into his chest, holding her flush against him. “Shhh, I didn’t lie.”
“You wrote,” she whimpered, face pressed into his dirty flight suit. “You didn’t say anything.”
Before he can reply, Tattie is pulling Val from him, eyes apologetic as she passes her over to Olive, who promptly wraps her in her arms and begins guiding her out of the hut. Just as they pass through the door she hears Bucky address the room full of men.
“You fellas can get your own whiskey. Come on, give our girls some space.”
She feels her body begin to shake as the cool air hits her, Olive’s grasp on her tightening just so as she guides her away from interrogation and towards their own hut. She only just hears Benny calling after them, still covered in dirt and sweat, he jogs over to them just before they’re out of earshot, with Buck hot on his heels. Buck places an awkward, yet slightly comforting hand on her shoulder, hesitating for a moment before he says what she’s hoping is the truth.
“I saw ten chutes, Miss Val. My navigator saw it too.”
“Do you promise?” She feels the words catch in her throat as she looks up at Cleven, sees him sigh and avert his gaze to the men still milling about the hut she’s just exited. “Gale! Do you promise?”
Her question comes more forceful the second time, the tension of it rising between the four of them as she waits for an answer.
“Cugine, I saw ten.” Benny’s confirmation has her releasing a breath she wasn’t even aware she had been holding, the sound of her whimpering, the sound she’s trying so hard not to let loose in front of the men, is forcing its way out of her. Never let them see you cry- it plays on a loop in her head as she tries in vain to quiet that voice.
“Benny, are you sure?”
“On the Madonna, I swear I saw ten chutes leave his fort.” Benny grabs her hand quickly, giving it a squeeze before pulling back, his eyes never leaving hers. That, well, that seems to be all she needs to hear before nodding and turning back in the direction of the Red Cross hut.
As soon as they step inside, Meatball can sense something isn’t right with them. He jumps from his spot on Olive's bed and over to Val’s without a second thought. Patiently, he waits for her to sit down, and after making a few circles on the blanket, he drops down so his head falls into her lap, paws over her legs. In a desperate attempt at seeking comfort, Val snuggles close to the husky; her hands find his fur and curl in deep, letting her whole body curl up to try and find some warmth.
“Oh, chicken…” Olive’s voice cracks as she squeezes in next to Val on the bed. “What can I do?”
She wraps an arm around her friend, and Val can feel her begin to run her fingers through her hair much the same way as her mother used to do when she was a little girl.
“Tell me it’ll be alright,” Val weeps. “Why aren’t you telling me it’ll be alright?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to hear it,” Olive confesses. “But it will… it will all be alright.”
They stay like that for some time; Meatball snoring between them, Olive soothing her friend as she continues running her fingers through her hair. She feels uneasy all over, and every time she thinks she’s relaxed enough to breathe, another wave of grief washed over her and the air catches in her lungs, stopping her from doing anything but giving way to a shaky exhale. For the first time in her life, Valencia DiRosano feels lost, and it’s not because she’s so far from home.
“Ouch!” Val pulls back quickly as Olive removes her hair from her hair, her curls now twisted into a knot. “Careful, English!”
“Sorry! I’m sorry!”
Olive jumps off the bed, hands digging through Val’s cosmetics on her small table before coming back with her brush.
“Let’s brush this out, hmm?”
“Okay…” they both sound equally nervous; Olive because she’s usually on the receiving end of Val doing her hair, and Val, well, because she knows just where Olive’s skills lie in doing hair.
“I’ll be careful I promise.” Olive gives her arm a gentle squeeze before sitting behind her.
Val nods silently in response, turning her back to Olive so she can begin.
“Alright,” Olive sighs, and Val can still hear the nerves in her friend's voice.
She begins brushing lightly, the methodical feeling of the bristles against her scalp causing Val’s breaths to begin evening out and the stuffiness in her nose to clear up.
“For what it’s worth,” Olive says, breaking the silence. “I think Curt made it, just not to Africa.”
“What makes you say that?” Val feels fresh tears forming in her eyes.
“Because he’s Curt, and if he didn’t,” there’s a pause as Olive focuses on a particular spot she’s brushing. “He’d be poking you in your sleep like the little imp he is.”
“Birichino…” she laughs weakly as she thinks about him. “What a pain in my ass.”
They sit in silence, Olive letting Val collect herself as best she can while doing her best to fix her hair. It’s when Val reaches up to stop her, her brows furrowed slightly, that Olive sees some of the color come back to her friends cheeks.
“Wait, that part where you’ve got the brush, don’t pull it back like that,” Val instructs her, taking her hand and manipulating it slightly. “It always goes forward and to the side.”
“Forward, and to the side…” Olive pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to do what Val said. “Like that?”
“Perfect,” Val smiles and directs Olive to the crown of her head. “And this part, always here, like this.”
When she notices Olive struggling, she takes the brush and demonstrates for her, before letting her hair flop back to its natural state and letting Olive try again. When she finally gets it, securing the last bit with a small hairpin, Val can’t help but smile just a little wider.
“There we go, chicken,” Olive says, squeezing Val’s shoulders. “How did I do?”
“Not too bad, English.” She nods, tilting her head this way and that as she inspects her handiwork in the small handheld mirror.
“Oh, I meant with keeping you occupied.” Olive turned to her, taking the mirror back and placing it on the table.
“Like I said,” Val winked. “Not too bad.”
“What else can I do for you?”
“Don’t say it like that, Ol. It makes you sound like a servant.”
“How else should I say it?” She shrugged.
“Not like that. You’re my best friend not my servant.”
“Okay…” Val watched as she rolled her eyes a little before sitting back down with her. “What would you like to do then?”
“If I said I wanted to curl up and cry would you judge me?” She could feel her lip wobbling as the words left her.
“Judge you? Absolutely not. Never.”
“I sense a but coming…”
“But…” Olive teased, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into her side. “Curt would be so upset if he saw you crying.”
“He doesn’t know though, does he? He’s not here anymore, Olive.”
“He’s here, he’s just not in England.”
Nodding, she let her gaze fall to the small frame on her bedside table. The photos of the people in her life littering the space as she stopped on the one of her and Curt just two months back in the officers club. His Class A uniform and her Red Cross jacket side by side, matching smiles. Would that be all she had left of him now? A photo?
“This never would have happened if he had just…”
“Just what?”
“Let me make him a new red braid. His broke right before they left and he tied it back on…”
“Oh…”
“HE TIED IT BACK ON!”
Her screaming came just as there was a knock on the door of their hut. Val, still in Olive’s grasp, was shaking in anger, and she hated to leave her to answer whoever was outside. So instead…
“Come in!” Olive yelled, loud enough to reach their visitors' ears.
The door opens and Ev is the first to enter, Dougie standing behind him quietly. Val just catches him and Olive exchange a glance before Ev is kneeling in front of her, his hands holding her knees as he tries to catch her eye.
“Hi baby…”
“Hi…”
Ev turns, a quick glance at the couple standing behind him, and Dougie is suggesting he and Olive take Meatball for a walk. The dog agrees faster than either of his human counterparts can corral him into his harness and out of the hut. Once the door is closed, it’s just them in the room, and Val isn’t sure if she wants to scream at Everett or cry more. Everything is so wrong right now.
“Hey, come on now pretty,” Ev coaxes her. “Look at me. Let me see you.”
“Why…”
“It was bad up there,” Ev spoke lowly, almost as if he was afraid that if he raised his voice beyond a whisper she would startle. “I’ve never seen flak like that before.”
“Not why did he bail out,” she raised her head so that their eyes finally met. “Why did you wait to tell me?”
“Did you really want to hear that in a letter, or from Chick and Red?”
“I was in his office for a week, and he didn’t so much as hint at something being wrong.”
“Jack got word back to them once we linked up with the 12th…” he stood, coming to sit next to her on the bed. “He asked me if I wanted to get word to you. I knew you had to hear it in person. A letter would have broken you.”
“But this didn’t break me, right? This was better. Easier.”
“I didn’t want to keep it from you!” He stressed, grabbing her hands and turning so they faced each other. “We have to hear everything in fucking letters, Val! I couldn’t let news about Curt be reduced to a letter…”
“Did you see it?”
“No… I heard when I landed.”
“So, ten chutes then?”
“Ten.” He confirmed. “Dickie got hit, but he got out.”
“Jesus Christ… where do you think they landed?”
“It was after Claytor and his crew bailed so-”
“Claytor too!?” Val’s eyes were wide, the realization of just how much this mission had cost them all, not just her, truly sinking in. “Everett… How many forts landed in Africa?”
“Eleven…” He said it almost hushed, afraid she would start crying again.
“I’m sorry…”
“Why are you sorry? I should be sorry. I am sorry!”
“For getting mad, for calling you a liar. Especially for calling you a liar.”
“I did lie,” he groaned, pulling her against him and laying down on her bunk. “I wrote to you and I left out the most important detail.”
“It wasn’t a lie. A lie would have been you telling me he bailed when really he’s dead somewhere in Germany…”
“Honey…”
“Please, tell me my best friend isn’t laying dead somewhere in Germany stripped of everything by the Krauts!” She pressed her face against his chest, hands gripping his jacket so tightly he was afraid she might tear the leather, and began sobbing again.
This was not Curt Biddick landing somewhere other than England and simply bringing up the rear on the way home. This wasn’t him galavanting and coming back after everyone else. This was war, and Curt Biddick, as far as Ev Blakely was aware, was a survivor. A fighter. And if he had any doubts that Curt wouldn’t fight to get back to them all, to his best friend, he’d have been openly honest with the woman in his arms.
“Ev,” Val sucked in a shaky breath, looking up at him with watery eyes. “Do you think he’s dead?”
“No,” his voice held every ounce of conviction he could possibly hope to convey to her. “I absolutely do not think he’s dead. I think he’s alive and I think he’s doing his best to get back.”
“Olive said…she said that if he was really gone I’d know it.”
“Yeah?”
“She said he’d be poking at me in my sleep because he’s a…he’s a pain in my ass.”
“Well she’s right, sweetheart. He would annoy you as much in death as he does in life.”
He carefully runs his thumb across her cheek to wipe away the tears, the black smudge left in their wake a combination of her mascara and what he assumes is the dirt on his hands. He’s yet to shower, but that’s the least of his priorities at the moment. Right now, he’s fully consumed with the girl in his arms, who for all of her gusto and laughter that she leaves along base every day, looks so incredibly small and child-like in the way she’s curled up against him, fighting for a place to hide.
He held her until he lost track of time. Until it didn’t matter if he was still in need of a shower and clean uniform. He held her until she finally cried herself to sleep, and then he followed after, his eyes falling shut only once he knew she was settled. It wasn’t at all how he pictured the first time they slept together- this or otherwise- but it was the way it had to be right now. It was what she needed, and he’d fight tooth and nail to make sure that she got everything she needed to stand on her own two feet.
——————————————————————————————————
It was some time later when he felt her stir, a small sigh as she burrowed deeper into his side, her grip on him still as tight as when they had first laid down. Carefully, he craned his neck to peek at her, and immediately felt his heart break. Her eyes were red and her cheeks stained with rouge and mascara that had fallen victim to her tears, and her lipstick had been rubbed off on where she had her face pressed to his flight suit. The pastel hues of the setting sun filled the room, and if they didn’t get up now, they’d be awake all night.
Gently, he let his hand come to rest on her head, smoothing her hair down as best as he could, knowing she would crow about it if she were in a better frame of mind.
“You stayed…”
“Of course I stayed,” surprise laced his voice that she would even suggest otherwise. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m just expecting to be alone now.”
“Not happening baby. Not while I’m around.”
He felt her nod against his chest before she abruptly pulled away from him, sitting up slightly and fixing him with a look. Her brow was pinched and for a moment, she looked like she usually did- like his Val.
“Eugh…” she frowned, catching a whiff of what he could only assume was the result of still not showering. “Ev honey, you…”
“I what?” Raising his eyebrows, he waited for her to answer.
“You smell really bad, honey.”
He barked out a laugh at her honesty, not even bothering to disagree with her because he knew it was true. He needed a whole bar of soap and a clean uniform but she had needed him more.
“I’m sorry, but you needed me more than I needed the shower.”
“Are we sure about that?”
“Yes,” he laughed. “I can go now though and come right back.”
“Was there no water in Africa?”
“No, no, I had a shower there,” he nodded, eyes roaming all over. “This would uhm, it would be Moe.”
“I’m sorry? Who’s Moe?”
“Dougie and Bucky sort of took a liking to a donkey over there, and well-”
“We thought you were joking!”
“I thought I was joking too.”
“Everett… is there a donkey on this base?”
“There’s a donkey on this base.”
“Are you crazy! Chicky is going to have a stroke!”
“I tried to tell him.”
“Try harder next time,” she sighed, tucking her legs under herself and sitting up straighter. “Was it…Moe…was it in your fort?”
“Crank’s…”
“So he had Bucky, and the donkey?”
“Yeah. The fellas had to wrap him up in blankets to keep him warm.”
“Of course they did! Oh and you’ve been on my bed in your…your donkey clothes! Ev!”
“I’m sorry!”
“Now I have to change my sheets!”
“How about I grab a shower and clean up; and you can change the sheets, take a hot shower and I’ll be back. Half hour, tops.”
As soon as he suggested leaving, even for the shortest amount of time, her face crumbled and the laughter they were fumbling through just a moment ago was gone.
“Or, I’ll grab clothes and come back here?”
“N-no, you can go. I’ll be okay…” she tried to convince herself and him. “Go on, I’ll get these cleaned up and then get myself in order.”
“Give me five minutes. I’ll be right back,” he leaned forward to drop a kiss to her forehead, and then her lips. “Why don’t you turn on the gramophone and change the sheets.”
“Okay… yeah, that’s a good idea.”
“Then take a shower. I’ll go after you, okay?”
“Thank you,” she sighed, letting her shoulders drop in exhaustion. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”
“You’re not a mess,” he grinned, grabbing her hand and squeezing. “You’re hurting, there’s a difference.”
“I love you…”
“Love you too, baby.”
“Even if you stink so bad right now.”
——————————————————————————————————
“Tell me something good?” Val peered up at Everett from where she sat, back against the iron headboard of her bed, tucked under his arm.
“Hmm… there’s more whiskey in that bottle…”
“That is good,” she pressed her cheek against his chest. “But not what I meant.”
“I think Doug is finally telling Olive he loves her.”
“About time,” chuckling, she lifted the glass to her lips. “I thought he was going to strangle Croz for interrupting him before you boys left.”
“Gave him a good smack once we all loaded up.”
“I’m not surprised. Love makes you do things like that.”
“Beat people up?” Ev laughed, running his fingers through her hair.
“Yes, actually, it does.”
The words were muffled, her face now fully buried against his shirt, the glass deposited on her side table. It was the first time Everett had seen her without any makeup; after he left she had made a dash for the jar of cold cream to remove her blotchy makeup and help the puffiness in her eyes and cheeks subside. She felt comfortable with him, knew he wouldn’t judge her for putting her fresh face on display, and when he had emerged from the shower after she finished, and didn’t immediately reach for the pomade to style his hair, she knew he felt the same.
“Val? Are you talking about you? Or Olive and Doug?”
“Me…”
“Sweetheart, did someone hurt you?”
“Yes…”
“When.” His voice was growing more stern and she could feel him shifting as if he wanted to storm outside and find whoever it was.
“It was before the war,” immediately she felt him relax just slightly. “But… if I tell you, you’re going to look at me differently.”
“I could never.”
“Like used goods…”
“Used goods-Val, baby, never!”
“Do you promise?”
“I swear, nothing could get me to ever look at you differently. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she peered up at him from where she was currently tucked against him, and she could see the anxiousness in his eyes, the worry that someone had taken from her without her saying so. Hurt her in a way that could not be repaired. “That’s why I’m afraid to tell you. I’d be devastated if I lost you too.”
“You won’t lose me. You haven’t lost Curt either, he’s just, taking the long way home.”
“Yeah… yeah he is…”
“When you’re ready, I’ll listen.”
She carefully untangled herself from him, crossing her legs underneath herself she sat straight up, gaze focused on Everett. She took a deep breath, and mustered all her courage; the courage Curt had taught her to have as kids, and reminded her she had as an adult, and began telling him the same story she had told the girls only a week prior.
“Back when I worked for the bank, before the war, I met someone. He worked at the bank too. He was charming, but it wasn’t the kind of charming like you, or any of our friends. It was…it was different.”
“How so?”
“Curt used to say he had a tongue like a rattlesnake. Poison.”
“Go on…”
“I told Curt he was too overprotective, but the truth was I was so blinded by how charming he was that I ignored just how terrible he spoke to me.”
“I already don’t like this fella.”
“We went out for about three months, and I guess I thought his charming behavior was a good enough reason to-”
“Please don’t tell me he…did he do what I think he did?”
“No,” she quickly ended that train of thought before Everett could get too hot under the collar for the wrong reasons. “I was stupid, and so when he asked, I said yes. He had made all sorts of empty promises to go along with it. A big house, a fancy wedding, all the things money could buy.”
“Didn’t follow through, did he?”
“I was so shallow, and I believed him. Turns out once he got what he wanted, I became too much. Too loud, not ladylike, difficult…”
“So what happened?”
“Curt and I were walking home one night. When it was dark, Curt would wait for me outside the bank and we would go home together.”
“Very good of him, remind me to thank him.”
“Well, we passed the picture house and there he was, with the most petite blonde in his arms, looking for her god damn tonsils.”
Everett let go of the breath he was holding, and immediately reached for the bottle of whiskey on the side table closest to him. Unscrewing the cap, he handed it to her, brow raised as he waited for her to fill her glass, but instead, she lifted the bottle to her lips and tipped it back, the amber liquid sloshing back into the bottle once she was done.
“That’s one way to take the edge off,” he forced out a laugh, taking the bottle from her and mirroring her previous actions. “So, tell me, how is any of this supposed to make me look at you different?”
“You don’t think I'm used or dirty? Second hand goods?”
“You, baby, are my girl, and my girl is not used or second hand anything.”
“I hate myself for ever letting him make me think that’s what love was.”
“We all make mistakes,” he pulled her against his chest, holding her close, smoothing her hair with his free hand. “This may come as a surprise to you but, you wouldn’t be my first either.”
“Not to sound unsurprised but, I’m not surprised.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’re so charming, and kind, and you are the best person I know. You look after your crew, and your friends. You look after me,” she grinned up at him, tucking her index finger under his chin. “And you’re so damn handsome.”
“Well, thank you sweetheart. And I appreciate you putting handsome at the end of that list.”
“Oh?”
“That’s all any of my old girlfriends wanted me for. A handsome face.”
“You’re more than that, Everett.”
“And you’re more than one mistake, Valencia.”
The weight of that one mistake, the guilt she had carried for giving herself to someone she wasn’t married to when he had treated her so terribly, it felt lighter. Not gone, but lighter. Curt had tried, in vain, to make her see that years ago, but she had suffered with guilt- not to mention that he became a bit extra protective of her after that any time someone tried to date her. Any man after the one who had broken her heart was either scared off after one date or deemed not good enough. Deep down, knowing that Curt had been the one to nudge Everett in her direction, meant the world to her. Curt had seen what she saw in him- kindness, a genuine man with good intentions who would keep her safe. Almost as if Curt had known she’d need safe keeping in someone other than him during this war.
“Wait, how does that tie into beating people up for love?” Everett looked like he was trying to put the pieces together.
“Oh, there’s more to the story.”
“I’m sensing that…”
“Curt beat him within an inch of his life. They both got arrested, and I had to post two weeks wages to bail Curt out of jail.”
“When you say within an inch of his life…”
“I mean there was so much blood we couldn’t tell where it was coming from or who it belonged to.”
“So what happened?”
“My ex… he said Curt swung first, and Curt said it was self defense.” She refused to meet his gaze, afraid of what he’d really think when she told him how Curt was eventually released from the police station.
“So what happened?” He tipped her chin up, waiting for her to finish the story. “Val?”
“I.. well, I told the police that Curt swung to protect me, and they let him go and held my ex another night.”
“Well, Curt did protect you.”
“You know that’s not what I meant. I lied to the police.”
“He protected you; there’s nothing more to it and nothing wrong with it.”
“It feels strange… with him not here.” She confessed, scooting closer to Everett.
“Different than when he ended up in Scotland for a few days?”
“Much different. It feels lonely… like my best friend decided he wanted to walk home from Germany.”
“Well, your best friend is also a pain in the ass.”
“He is…”
“You have all of us, and you have me.”
“Thank you…”
“You’ll always have me, I promise.”
“You have me too, you know? I don’t know what you see up there but, down here? You have me, Everett.”
“Not sure what I did to deserve you,” he pulled her in for a kiss, lips covering hers softly as they both let go of a deep rooted sigh, weight that felt heavy until it dissipated into the room. “Hmm, wait I almost forgot your present!”
“My present?”
“You asked me to bring you something back, remember?”
Untangling himself from her for a moment, he hopped off the bed and to the few things he had brought with him to the Red Cross hut. Rifling around, he pulled a small package from the pocket of his jacket before joining her back on the bed. Smiling softly, he handed it over; carefully wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, hiding it from view. His smile grew as Val’s did.
“I got it in Marrakech,” he explained, watching as she carefully untied the ribbon before unwrapping the paper. “It just…”
“Perfume?” Her eyes lit up, green orbs wide with excitement. No one had ever gifted her perfume before. “Really?”
“The woman who ran the stall at the market didn’t speak English,” Ev watched her as she turned the small bottle over in her hands before removing the cap and raising it to her nose. “I showed her your picture, and she picked that one.”
It wasn’t fancy like the bottles on Fifth Avenue; it wasn’t carefully crafted crystal and it didn’t have the atomizer attached to it so she could spritz it wherever she pleased, but it was perfect.
“I love it…”
“She let me smell it before I paid her for it. It was like you were right there with me.”
Carefully, she placed the bottle down on her side table, mindful of how close to the edge it was, before she turned back to him. Softly, gently, Val climbed into his lap, like a kitten seeking shelter, except this time it was in the form of affection. Wrapping her arms around him, fingers carding through his messy curls, she guided him closer, closer, until finally, her lips were a single breath from his.
“Thank you,” pressing her lips to his softly, she felt his arms wind around her, sliding up until one rested between her shoulder blades, pulling her closer. “Thank you for loving me the way that you do.”
“Thank you for letting me.”
Nothing else is said between them. Nothing else needs to be said; it’s just two people together, finding a moment of happiness under an otherwise bleak sky, and allowing that happiness to become the focal point of the moment. Everett’s lips find Val’s again, softly, tenderly expressing just how much he loves her, and how appreciative he is that he gets to love her the way he does. She’s still perched in his lap, her legs on either side of him as her fingers rake through his hair and down his shoulders while his mouth travels down her jaw until he finds the spot on her neck that makes her weak.
“Ev… that feels nice…”
“Lie back for me, yeah?” He maneuvers them until she’s on her back, her legs immediately making space for him to slot his hips against hers before she uses her knees to bring him closer. “There we go…”
He continues his assault on her exposed skin, lips and teeth gently nipping at her pulse point before continuing on their journey to the next available spot, careful not to leave any marks where someone could see them while she was in her uniform. Reaching the column of her throat, he let his teeth gently drag down her skin, his lips soothing the light sting until he reached her clavicle. He pressed his nose against her, inhaling her scent to commit her to memory, even though she was right here, in his arms, pressed against him.
She tries to find herself, but she’s fully immersed in the feeling of being so close to Everett; pressed together with nothing but their uniforms between them, that she can do nothing more than let him kiss over every exposed bit of skin he can find. Her hands are fumbling with his shirt, the buttons slipping between her fingers every time she tries to get them open, and what begins as a frustrated groan gives way to a rough moan as his hands skim up over her ribs to gently cup her chest over her blouse.
The hand that had been gripping his shirt cups his cheek and gently tilts his face back to hers. His eyes are wild as he takes in the sight of her panting beneath him, both still clothed, both with a decision to make. She leans up to meet him, lips finding him as she does everything she can to convey exactly what it is she wants without speaking a word. She’s not sure she could say it out loud, but what she wants and what she needs are now one in the same. Please she begs internally, lips moving against his, still pressing, fingers tangled in the collar of his shirt once more as the buttons finally cooperate. Please her mind screams for only her to hear, when he breaks their kiss, forehead dropping to her own.
“Yeah?” He’s breathing heavy, the warmth of it fanning across her cheek.
“Please,” she’s whining, pressing herself closer to him, her hands running up the hard planes of his covered chest . “Everett, please…”
“Okay,” kissing her again, he smooths a hand over her mused curls, the other still precariously settled on her breast. “Let me think for a minute.”
The hut is filled with the sounds of their breathing, when Ev’s gaze snaps to the door, something catching his attention.
“What is it?”
“Someone’s outside…” Moving off the bed, he heads towards the door; swinging it open, she sees his body sag in relief before she hears his next words.
“Doug!”
“Uh, yeah?” Dougie’s voice is far away and strained, and Val only has to half imagine the picture that Ev was greeted with.
“Jesus Christ, thought you were Red.”
“Why would Red be out here?”
“He’s always out here…”
“Eyes in his ass,” she hears Doug grumble. “What’s up?”
“Trade you that jeep for an empty hut?” Ev poses the question carefully, and Val doesn’t even need to stop and think before she’s climbing from her bed and making her way to grab her shoes and jacket.
The jingle of keys is heard as Doug tosses them to Everett, and as she exits the hut she finds Olive in a similar state to her own- hair mused and lipstick smudged, a lazy smile on her face as she vacates the seat she’s in for Val.
“Be safe, yeah?” She gives her hand a squeeze as they pass each other.
“You too, English.” She winks before climbing into the passenger seat of the jeep just as Ev comes around to the driver side.
“Ready?” He turns to her, a cigarette smoking from between his lips.
Nodding, she takes it from him, bringing it to her own lips and taking a long inhale, the smoke swirling around her making her look almost ethereal. That’s all the answer he needs as he turns the key in the ignition and presses down on the gas. Even though it’s August, she pulls her jacket just a bit tighter around her between the cool English air and the breeze from the jeep.
She doesn’t need to ask; Val knows where they’re going. The shadow of Just A Snappin comes into view, the headlights illuminating the nose of her, making her look like a ghost in the night as she sits on her hardstand. Everett’s other girl, the first place he had taken her to be alone, the one place she knew she’d be safest with him aside from the Red Cross hut.
All too quickly they’re parked and the engine is off, the headlights going out and shrouding them in the cover of the moon. Everett jumps from the driver's side and quickly comes around to her side, his hands quickly finding hers as he helps her down. For a moment, they don’t move. Her gaze is fixed on him, on the gentle way he looks at her, on the feeling of his hands enclosed around her own. The fort isn’t looming over them; there’s no Thorpe Abbotts, no war, just a boy and a girl standing under the cover of the moonlight.
“C’mere…” Everett tugs her closer, wrapping her up in the safety of his arms.
He simply holds her a moment, quiet and comfortable, until he’s tilting her face up to his and lowering his lips to hers. This kiss is heated. It’s everything that they can’t say, words that are trapped behind feelings that are doing all the talking as Ev Blakely maps a path from Val’s lips to her throat until she’s pressed up against the jeep, still radiating warmth from the engine running, but not enough to burn, as he carefully picks her up and places her upon the hood.
“Everett…”
“I’m here,” his face is buried in the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his fingers digging into her hips as he continues to lavish her in affection. “I’m right here.”
“Everett please,” he’s barely touched her and the words are coming out in broken moans and pleas for more.
“Please, what, baby? You have to tell me what it is you want.”
“You…” to her own ears it sounds whiny and petulant, but he stops and brings his face level with her own, just barely aware of her right leg wrapping around his hips to draw him closer.
“Val, honey are you sure?”
“Yes,” her green eyes are wide, hand cupping his face as she nods in confirmation. “I’ve never been more sure.”
“The cockpit isn’t big enough…”
“What about-”
“Not out here on the jeep either.” He stops her before she can even suggest it.
She’s about to reply when his eyebrows shoot up, a smile on his face as he picks her up from her perch and begins walking them towards the fort. As they get closer, Val can see flak holes in the wings, and dents along the nose and body, and she holds onto Everett just a bit tighter knowing that it’s a miracle he made it back. The hatch is open and of course the stairs are nowhere to be found, but they’ve mastered this by now, and she gives a single nod before he’s hoisting her off the ground and through the hatch. She quickly rights herself and steps aside, waiting for him to swing into the small space and join her.
“Come on…”
Taking his outstretched hand, she allows him to lead her down the body of the plane, carefully avoiding where he tells her not to step, until suddenly there’s light filtering in.
They’re in the nose of Just A Snappin.
“This way, we have some light, and some space.”
“It’s roomier than the cockpit,” she turns to him, her hands resting on his arms. “Why didn’t we come here the first time you took me up?”
“Didn’t think of it. Plus, I wanted to show you my favorite spot.”
“And now?”
“Now, you look beautiful and I just want to kiss you again.”
“Just kiss me?”
“We’re going slow baby,” his lips brush carefully against her cheekbone, across the bridge of her nose, and settle on her other cheek. “I want to take my time loving you.”
Stepping back a fraction, Everett shrugs out of his flight jacket and lays it out on the floor before gently guiding Val to lay back on it. Once he’s sure she’s comfortable -as comfortable as she’s going to get laying in the nose of a B-17- he joins her. He’s next to her, one leg slotted between hers as he pulls her flush against him, his hands knotted in her hair and lips crushed against her so hard she’s sure they’ll be bruised in the morning.
She takes a fist full of his shirt and tugs him closer, shifting to her back and pulling him on top of her. The full weight of Everett Blakely against her body sends her into a frenzy, goosebumps erupting across her skin as she feels his hips press into hers just so. Her fingers resume their job from earlier, button after button until she gets to the waist of his slacks, his shirt disappearing behind his belt. She’s so focused on getting him out of his shirt that she barely notices that his lips are following the path of every button he’s opening on her own shirt.
“Shouldn’t I be undressing you first?” He breaks his kisses for a moment, sucking in air as fast as his lungs will let him, eyes finding hers.
“Is there a rule book?” She grins, bottom lip fitting snugly between her teeth.
“No but,” he’s distracted as her hands push the shirt from his shoulders, her nails tickling the skin of his bare arms. “I want to take care of you.”
“You are taking care of me.”
“You know what I mean, baby…”
“Can you show me?” She poses the question lightly, her hands finding his chest and resting just over where his heart is hammering against his ribs. “Show me how you take care of me, Everett.”
Even in the moonlight, under the cover of the plexiglass nose, she can see his eyes darken and turn hungry. He has the final button of her shirt open and the white blouse pulled off her before she can blink. His lips drag over the lines of her bra, nosing at the soft material shielding him from her sensitive flesh and then, his hand is on the clasp at her back and he’s pulling that from her body too.
“Look at you,” his hands are immediately on her, gently cupping her breasts, nose dragging along the soft lines of her, breathing her in. “God you’re beautiful. So beautiful…”
This was different from the last time she had bared herself to him. That night in the mess hall had been quick, fumbled hands and laughter between stolen kisses and bites of donuts. This was soft, serious, loving. This, she thought, was what it was supposed to be like. What being with someone she loves and who loves her, should feel like. Gentle reverence as his hands explore every little mark on her body, lips kissing the small imperfections she carried on her skin, reminding her that they were nothing more than moments in the past. The scars, the weight she carried from the past, remained there. This, now, was what mattered. The man whose lips were kissing down her sternum, nipping at the flesh of her stomach, over her navel, hands following and only stopping once he reached the top of her pants.
Val’s hands carded through the array of curls atop Everett’s head, her nails raking across his scalp before tugging only gently, but even that; that was enough to pull the most wonderful sound she had ever heard from the man whose lips were pressed to her stomach. His fingers were toying with the button on her uniform pants, lightly tickling her, his eyes searching for hers in the dim light.
“Can I…?”
“Yes…”
His fingers deftly popped the button, the zipper following, and then he was kissing a path lower as he gently tugged the navy blue garment from her hips, down her legs, and finally, it was somewhere with her blouse, jacket and bra. His hands were rough from hours of flying, but still traced intricate patterns from her ankle, up her calf, until he reached her knee. Then, his lips took over as his hands gently spread her legs wider, making room to accommodate for his shoulders, his right hand continued to draw lazily over her left leg, while he peppers kisses closer and closer to her center.
Once he reached the apex of her thighs, he stopped, and so did her gentle sigh of appreciation.
“S’okay?” His words were muffled, lips still pressed to her soft skin.
“Mhmm…”
“Is that a yes or a no? Val…”
“Yes,” she breathed out, the words barely more than a whisper. “More than okay.”
“Good,” she could feel him grin against her, and then suddenly he was nosing at her core, dropping open mouth kisses over her underwear. “Think we could get rid of these too?”
“Everett Blakely, if you don’t, I will!” She huffed, the response a breath of warmth as he laughed, face still nestled against her. The anticipation of him finally putting his mouth on her, was entirely too much to handle, and then...
“Oh my god… oh!”
His mouth; those lips that have kissed her hundreds of times, are closing softly over her, tasting her for the first time, licking gently as if to test how much she could stand, before fully diving in. Without wasting a single second longer, her hand is tightening in his hair, a fistful of those perfect locks, begging him without words to keep going. An echo of their very first time in Just A Snappin. Don’t stop.
“Baby…”
“Don't you dare stop, Everett!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinned, peeking up at her for a moment before wrapping his arms around her thighs and pulling her closer. “Not when you taste this good.”
He’s on her again, tongue exploring all of her before diving in, devouring her in long strokes and sweet kisses, nose pressing against her clit in the most delicious sensation. Her head is spinning as he takes every bit of her that she’s willing to give- all of it- and treats her like a five course meal. The harder she pulls on his hair, the louder he gets, the vibrations of his mouth sending shivers through her at lightning speed. The hand that’s not making a mess of Everett’s hair is fisted in his jacket, the soft leather and shearling of his flight jacket a stark contrast to the feeling of his tongue, flat against her and licking from her slit to the hidden bundle of nerves nestled at the top, until his lips wrapped around her and began sucking.
“Everett… honey…”
Peering down at him, she found him nestled between her thighs, completely focused on her body laid out for him. His arms were still looped around her legs, his hands gripping so tightly she was positive he’d be leaving marks on her. Her hand that had been in his hair gently scratched down his scalp, lower until she could find one of his own, her fingers trying with all their might to hold onto him. She could feel the crest of the wave building, that familiar feeling taking hold of her as she tried her best to relax and let it happen. This was Everett, this was different, this was-
“What’s wrong?” His mouth was still pressed against her, words muffled, his eyes wide as he searched her face.
“What?”
“You’re so tense,” he pulled himself from her only long enough to slide back up her body, lips ghosting over hers. The taste of herself on him was enough to have her shivering. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” kissing him again, her hand cupping his jaw. “You did everything right.”
“It’s okay to let go. It’s just me and you, and I promise, I want you to. I want to hear every beautiful sound you make, Valencia…”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t you dare be sorry, just let me show you how much I love you. How much you deserve to be loved.”
Nodding, she kissed him again, pulling him as close as she could in order to convey just how much she loved him. How thankful she was that he chose to love her. How thankful she was that he chose that moment to drag his finger from her clit to her entrance; testing, teasing, before easing himself inside. When her breathing evened, he added a second.
“There we go,” he eased his fingers out gently before pushing them back in, the combination of his mouth previously on her, and her own arousal made it an easy task for him. “That’s it, relax for me baby.”
“That feels good…”
“Yeah?” He grinned, watching as her head dropped back farther as he pressed on her clit with his thumb. “Good, I want it to always feel good for you.”
“Please don’t stop,” she begged, her hand coming down to grab his wrist to stop him from pulling away. “Please… I’m- I’m…”
“It’s okay. Let go for me baby, let me hear how pretty you sound.”
She felt it wash over her without much warning, like the white noise when you get pulled under a wave and you’re searching for the surface. Except she wasn't drowning. Everett was working her through it, pulling her back to the surface even as his fingers never slowed, his lips nipping and kissing across her chest as her skin flushed pink. As he whispered how much he loved her as she let go of everything that made her scared, or lonely; everything from her past that no longer mattered finally dissolving around her.
“Hi…” he was leaning over her, fingers dancing up and across her stomach, wet with her release, yet she couldn’t seem to mind.
“Hi…”
“Was that okay?”
“More than okay.” she grinned, kissing him softly.
When he leaned back over her again, lips seeking out her own, she felt him pressed against her, the bulge in his pants hard against her hip as she shifted to get closer to him. She didn’t want this to end here, and she could only hope as she began undoing the belt and button, slowly pulling the zipper down, that Everett felt the same way.
“Baby…”
“You took such good care of me,” she whispered, kissing up his jaw and nipping his ear. “Can’t I do the same for you?”
“Don’t…” his breath caught as her hand slipped behind the barrier of his pants, fingers dancing over his length still covered by his underwear. “Don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“Obligated? To take care of you? Everett…”
She saw his eyes slip shut as her fingers dipped behind the elastic of his boxers. Heard his breathing change as she gently pushed both his boxers and pants down as far as she could reach before he had to take over the task. And then, he was kneeling in front of her, the full length of him exposed to her as he watched her. Watched as her eyes roamed all over his body. Watched as she knelt to join him, nothing but the moonlight to cover them.
“Gesù, grazie per questo amore e per quest'uomo.”
Jesus, thank you for this love and this man
Tentatively, she moved to touch him; red manicured nails gently dancing up and down the length of him before finally, she let the full weight of him rest in her hand. He was warm and hard, and the longer she let her hand move over him, the harder his breathing became until eventually his hands were buried in her hair and he was pulling her as close as he could get her. Lips pressed together, hard enough to leave a bruise, he spoke for only her and the night to hear.
“You,” his lips brushed across her nose. “Have had me since the moment I laid eyes on you…”
“I have?”
“Mhmm,” he grinned. “Will you let me love you?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask,” she grinned, wrinkling her nose in delight. “Please, Everett. Make love to me.”
Gently, he laid her back so she was resting against the warm inside of his flight jacket, kissed her quickly, and began rummaging for his pants.
“Inside pocket of my uniform jacket.”
“What?” He turned to her quickly, eyes wide in surprise as he tried to make sure that what he thought he heard was what he actually heard.
“There’s a rubber in my jacket pocket.” Val clarified, propping herself up on her elbows to get a better look at him.
“Why?” He laughed, retrieving the packet from his pants pocket.
“Tattie figured with you coming home…”
“So that means we have two?” He was grinning wildly as he rolled the condom down over his length.
“It does.” Val nodded, making room for him between her legs as he came to join her.
All of a sudden, the jokes were over, and the mood in the fort shifted to serious. They were on the edge of changing everything, and there was no one Val would rather take that next step with than the man in front of her.
“Ready?”
Nodding, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, lips saying everything she knew if she tried to say it would just come out jumbled. But somehow, Everett knew. He knew that she was ready. Knew that he was the one she wanted to do this with. And gently, he guided himself to her entrance and pressed inside.
“Oh!”
“Too much?”
“Oh goodness no. It feels so good,” her voice was caught on a moan as he pushed the rest of the way in, stopping only when he was fully sheathed in her warmth. “Everett…”
“Christ,” his voice was strained, forehead pressed into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “Baby you’re s-so tight.”
For a moment there was no movement; just their breathing, chests pressed together, bodies as close as they could possibly get them. Savoring in that first time, warm breaths over skin, lips peppering kisses, eyes taking it all in, until finally…
“Val, baby,” he’s gripping her hip, eyes squeezed shut trying to control himself. “I…shit, baby I need to move…”
“Please…” her voice is a soft moan as he pulls out, gently sliding back in before finding a steady rhythm.
“You feel so good…so good baby… just like I always knew you would…”
She’s unsure of how to reply to that, and more so, if she can even find it in her to form words at the moment. He’s working her body so good, the heavy drag of him against her walls as he pulls out, the fullness of each thrust inward, short circuiting her brain of anything other than Everett Blakely and his body covering hers.
When he hooks her knee up and around his waist, pulling her closer while somehow thrusting deeper, she's quickly digging her nails into his shoulder, perfect crescents forming over his skin, and crying out for him. She just barely registers that he’s hissing at the pleasure pain of her nails dragging down his arm, the hand that isn’t busy touching him is gripping the leather of his jacket with such force that if she tried she could rip the shearling from the inside without a second thought. His lips are dragging against her chest, teeth biting at her clavicle and the tops of her breasts, his breathing heavy as he continues to pump in and out of her.
“Everett…”
“What do you need pretty?” He’s panting, sweat damp curls sticking to his forehead as his eyes meet her gaze. “Tell me what you need.”
“Need more…please,” she’s dragging out the word, moaning as she holds his gaze. “I need more.”
“More what? Hmm?”
“You…”
“More of me? I’m right here baby, you’ve got all of me…”
Her next words are breathy, and almost inaudible, but she knows he hears her because his eyes get darker and his hips begin moving faster.
“Touch me Everett…”
His lips find hers at the same time his thumb finds her clit, and she feels like she could explode at any moment. But she’s not ready for it to be over, not nearly, no matter what her body is telling her and no matter how good she feels.
“I…oh god!”
She feels wound tight, like a spring, and knows it’s only a matter of seconds before she comes undone underneath him. Eyes screwed shut; she can feel his thumb rubbing tight circles against her, his lips on her neck, his warm breath against her as he groans into her skin.
“Val…” her name is a moan on Everett’s lips. Strained, but full of every other word she knows he wants to say.
“Everett…”
“Open your eyes for me baby. Let me see you,” he’s begging her, just as she’s begging him to bring her to the finish. “Please, I need to- I need to see you…”
It feels like it takes every ounce of energy not spent on the man currently loving her to pry her eyes open, but finally, she meets his gaze. His eyes, the hazel pools she loves so much, are blown wide, and his gaze is wild. They’re completely focused on each other, bodies moving together, and as Val slides her hand up his chest to the back of his neck, she’s positive that she can feel his heart pounding against his ribs as they press themselves infinitely closer.
“Everett, I’m so…”
“Let go,” he’s begging her, and she wondered, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Shouldn’t she be begging him to get her there? Except she is there, and he wants so badly to see her fall apart in his arms that he’s begging her for it. “I’ve got you, I promise.”
She comes with a cry, her body finally, finally, releasing every iota of energy that she had been wound so tight with. Her arms hold him tighter, body seizing and then she’s pliant in his grasp again, gasping for air as he works her through it, neither of them aware of the mess she’s made. His thrusts continue as she comes down, seeking his own finish, and just as he had for her, she knows he’s looking for her permission as well.
“It’s okay,” she’s whispering, lips pressed to his cheek, kissing the damp skin. “Everett, it’s okay. Let go honey.”
It took just her words for him to find his release, face buried in the crook of her neck, he comes with a groan, hips slowing until finally, he’s still. Buried inside her, she finds comfort in the methodical back and forth of her hand in his sweat damp curls, while he finds comfort in her arms.
Silence fills the fort once more, and they’re so still, that Val thinks that maybe Everett’s drifted off, sleeping as she holds him against her; but just as quickly as the thought comes it’s gone. She feels his lips pressing soft kisses against her neck, where his face is still pressed, breath fanning out warm against her.
“Mmm, there you are…” she’s grinning down at him as he lifts his head up, eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Who else would I be with, hmm?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You and Doug spend an awful lot of time together.” She teases him, thumb soothing over his kiss bitten lips.
“He’s not my type,” he winks, and then gently pulls out of her, careful to remove the rubber without making a mess. “Too manly. I prefer curvy brunettes with long legs and Brooklyn accents.”
“Is that so?” She watches as he pulls his boxer shorts back on and begins rummaging around under the navigators desk, grumbling before coming back to join her.
“That is so,” he winks. “Damn, I thought we had a blanket under here somewhere. I don’t want you getting cold.”
“I think I’ll be okay.”
She slips her arms into the sleeves of his flight jacket, pulling it around her body to protect her from the cold, and somehow she knows that it’ll be all Everett can picture the next time he puts it on for a mission.
Curling up next to him, their legs tangled together, Val finds peace in the dimly lit nose of the fort. There’s peace in his arms, and in the way his hands hold her body so close, so secure, as if she might break if he’s not careful. Peace, for the first time in hours.
“You alright?”
“Yeah… I am.”
“You promise?”
“I promise,” she giggles, pressing her face against his bare chest. “I’m alright.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“God, no!”
“Just checking,” his large hands are tangled in her hair, the ends curling over and over as he runs his fingers through the messy strands. “I know it wasn’t the first time but-”
“It was the first time. Everett, it was our first time. It was perfect.”
“You’re perfect.”
“Far from it, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he sighed, tipping her face upwards, a furrow in his own brown to rival hers. “Curt would give you an earful if he heard you talking like that.”
“He always does,” she groaned, dropping her head back. “Always says to me gal, ya gotta stop making like you ain’t worth anything; I guess he’s right.”
“He is right,” Everett moved to lay back, pulling her on top of him. “I think you’re worth everything.”
“You’re just sweet talking.”
“Nope, I mean it. Look at you baby; you were brave enough to leave home and come all the way over here to serve coffee and donuts to a bunch of crass airmen, live in a drafty hut with three other girls, and then there’s doggy daycare almost every day.”
“Meatball is the easiest part of the job,” she laughed. “It’s you boys who keep us on our toes.”
“And here I thought I was well behaved…”
“Compared to most, you’re a saint.”
“So not a…what’s that word again?”
“Which word?”
“The one you call Curt when he’s acting up.”
“Oh, birichino.” She rolls the R so perfectly, it’s hard to remember that she’s actually American born, and not actually from Italy.
“Birichino… you might have to start teaching me Italian, sweetheart.”
“I think you’d be a good student,” leaning up, she finds his lips with ease. “Better than Curt that’s for sure.”
“He grew up hearing you talk, how does he not know it?”
“He only paid attention to the bad words.”
There’s a lull, the conversation coming to a natural standstill as Everett pulls her a fraction closer to his chest. His large hand slipping between her skin and the inside of the jacket, before settling on the small of her back. This, she thinks, is what love feels like. Contentment with the other person, no need to fill silence with small talk, no need to pretend. They could just be.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course,” she’s a bit surprised he asks, but acquiesces nonetheless. “You can tell me anything.”
“I was surprised when Curt all but told me to go after you that day. I thought…well, looking back I'm not sure what I thought, but it wasn’t that he would be the one to give me the okay.”
“You know, I’m still so surprised it was him who slipped you my cocktail order. I swore it was Helen and Tattie.”
“You looked like someone pulled the floor out from under you that night. And all I wanted to do was just sit with you. Know you, the girl behind the smile.”
“I was so afraid to let you in…” it’s an admission that she’s spent a good deal of time coming to grips with. How letting him in opened her up to the possibility of hurt all over again.
“You called me Captain for a week. From the day I landed until I got you on the dance floor.”
“I did… it was easier that way.”
“I understand. No one wants to get their heart broken, sweetheart. Least of all, someone who has a good one.”
“I wish I had met you sooner…”
She whispers that last sentence into his skin; lips pressed to his sternum, it’s an almost prayer that’s just for them. It’s Everett who breaks the silence once more, turning the conversation away from their past, and towards the present.
“I asked him,” he rolls his eyes a bit at the memory of that day. Fresh off the Bremen mission, both desperate for showers. “Why you and he never…”
“And what did he tell you?”
“That he loved you but not that way.”
“He’s right. I love him too, but not the way I love you.”
“And how do you love me?” There’s a twinkle in his eye, one that gives way to that extra rubber sitting in her jacket pocket, and the fact that she can feel him growing hard underneath her. “Show me baby… show me how good you love me.”
Sitting up in his lap, she tests the waters with a roll of her hips and feels him immediately grab her thighs, fingers digging into the soft skin. He lets loose a groan that echoes off the walls of the fort, and she knows now, that it’s her turn to take him apart from the inside out with slow and careful hands.
—————————————————-—————————————————
The jeep comes to a stop in the same place it started, outside the Red Cross hut. Val turns to Everett and without saying anything, tilts her head in the direction of the door, silently asking him to stay the night. She knows she doesn’t have to explain why, so when he comes around to her side of the jeep once more to help her out, and they walk hand in hand to the door, she knows he understood.
He takes a final drag of his cigarette before tossing it into the makeshift ashtray —a bucket with sand outside the door— and then he’s guiding her inside, stopping short at the threshold with a shout.
“Jesus Christ! Doug!”
“Hmm? What!”
“Put your pants on!”
“Oh!”
“Not even your hut…” Ev shakes his head, one hand on the door frame and the other holding her behind his back.
“I don’t think it’s yours either pal,” Dougie grumbles, and from behind Everett’s back, Val can hear him shuffling around. “Would it kill you to knock?”
“I’m with Val, why would I knock?”
“You left Ollie and I here when you…wait, where did you go?”
“Uhm, can you two finish this conversation inside?” Val pipes up from her spot behind Ev. “I’d like to get ready for bed.”
“Oh! Yeah sure come on in!” Doug exclaims, and she can only roll her eyes at being invited into her own hut.
She quickly skirts underneath Ev’s arm that’s still seemingly holding the place up, and makes for her locker to grab her things. Her night clothes are folded behind her pillow, and after grabbing those, she doubles back to Everett.
“I’m going to wash up. I’ll be right back.”
“Should I…”
“Get comfy,” she grins. “Just, not as comfy as Doug, please?”
“Right… can I hang my uniform up in your locker?”
“Of course. There’s a hanger in there, go ahead honey, use whatever you need.”
Leaving him by her bunk with Doug, she heads for the washroom, knocking on the door to let Olive know it’s her.
“Ol, it’s me, can I come in chickie?”
“Oh! Yeah come on then!”
Just as she shuts the door she hears Doug grumble about how she has manners for knocking but Ev doesn’t.
“Did you?!” Olive turns to her with wide eyes just as Val opens her mouth to ask her the exact same question.
“Yes!”
“Oh my god, how was it?”
“Ol, it was… I don’t know if I have the words. I’ve never felt like that before…”
“Wait, where did you two go?”
“The fort.” Val feels her cheeks heating up at the mere memory of it, just thinking about it made her insides turn in excitement.
“The fort? How! You said the cockpit was too cramped for any of that!”
“The nose!”
“The nose?!” Olive crows, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.
On the other side of the door, they hear Doug complaining that his seat in the fort has been tainted and how they better have cleaned up!
“How was it for you?”
“Val, he’s as talkative in bed as he is out of it.”
“Somehow, I don’t doubt it,” she giggles, joining Olive at the sink to begin applying her cold cream.
“The things he was saying,” now it’s Olive’s turn to blush at the memory. “Goodness me!”
“Did he finally tell you he loves you?”
“Yes! Earlier out in the jeep after I told him, well, everything.”
“You told him!”
“Yes… I’m going to have to go check on Pearl in the morning but, can you tell Ev?”
“You want me to tell him?”
“Honestly, I think he needs to hear it from you,” she shakes her head, fights with her headscarf for a moment, and finally relents. “He’ll take you seriously.”
Val busies herself with fixing Olive’s scarf. Tucking her curls under the smooth fabric for a good night's sleep before she speaks.
“I told Ev…”
“About? Oh!” Realization dawns on Olive’s face. “Oh chicken! What did he say?”
“He listened, and he loved me through it. Ol, it feels so good to have it off my chest.”
“So you feel better?”
“I’m still… I don’t think I’ll feel completely better until I know for certain that Curt is alive, but, I do feel better than I did this morning.”
“Good… you’ll get there, and we’ll be here.”
“Thanks Ol. I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”
“Let’s not find out, hmm?”
“Hey! Do you two ever sleep?!”
Dougie’s voice echoes through the hut, and the serious moment is over just as quickly as it happened. Val tilts her head towards the door, and both girls emerge in their night clothes, eyes twinkling at their men waiting for them in their respective beds.
“I do,” Val grins, hanging her uniform up next to Everett’s in her locker. “It’s the British one you need to keep an eye on.”
“Yes well, I’ll try and be better about it.” Olive titters, sticking her tongue out at Val before sliding into her bed next to Doug, who’s patting the space next to him with a wide grin on his face.
“God, look at the state of him,” Ev shakes his head at his friend, lifting back the covers on Val’s bed so she can easily slide in with him. “You’d think it’s his first sleepover.”
“First one with her, though, honey.” Val grins knowingly, fitting herself against him so that they can both be comfortable.
“Okay, good point,” he concedes, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “You have enough room?”
“Even when it’s just me in here I don’t have enough room so, don’t take it personal.”
“Okay,” he chuckles, wraps her up in his arms and finally settles back against the pillows with a sigh. “Hey, I’m here okay? Not going anywhere.”
“I know,” her voice is quiet so as not to disturb Olive and Doug in the next bed. “I love you, Ev.”
“I love you too, Val.”
She closes her eyes, breathes him in, and is vaguely aware of Doug and Olive exchanging the same sentiment in their bed. All she needs right now is in bed with her, and in the room around them.
“Hey! What about Helen and Tattie!”
“Go to sleep, Doug.”
“Okay.”
——————————————————-————————————————
The sound of the jeep starting outside and the engine purring to life as it pulls away from the hut rouses Val from her sleep. She cracks an eye open, head barely coming off the pillow to check and see who’s in the hut and realizes that Olive and Doug are gone. Helen’s bed is untouched, and Tattie’s covers are pulled up haphazardly. Turning over she comes face to face with Everett, eyes still filled with sleep and grinning lazily down at her.
“Hey, you alright?”
“Mhm, the jeep woke me up.”
“He took her to see the sun come up?”
“No…”
“The truck?”
“No, she has to go check on Pearl.”
“He took her to see her grandmother?”
“Yeah…”
“So the hut’s empty?” He’s nuzzling into her shoulder, day old stubble scratching deliciously at her skin, lips dragging over her pulse point.
“Hmm yeah.”
“Perfect…”
“I need to talk to you first.”
“So talk; I’m listening.”
“Everett, I’m serious.”
“And I’m seriously listening,” He lifts his head from where he was currently snuggling her; Hazel eyes gleaming and a cheeky grin on his face. “Oh, you’re serious serious.”
She takes a deep breath, turns Everett’s wrist over so that she can check the time on his watch, and realizes that it’s pushing six in the morning. She could either tell him everything now, as Olive asked her to last night, or she could enjoy a few moments of quiet in the empty hut with him. Judging by the way he was looking at her, she knew she’d have to tell him now.
“You have to promise you’ll listen until I’m done, okay?”
“You’re scaring me…”
“It’s nothing bad, I promise.”
“Is it about last night?”
“No,” she sits up, bringing the sheet to her chest before curling under his arm as he sits up with her. “It’s about Olive.”
“Olive?”
“Mhmm, now, this is the part where you hold all questions till the end.”
With a deep breath, she’s telling him what Olive told her a week ago. About the prop fort and how it’s connected to the Just A Snappin on the hardstand —what’s a prop fort and why does it have our name on it?— to the sounds of meatball barking, and most importantly, the seventy year time difference between her home and theirs. She explains that Olive has been going back and forth between 1943 and 2021 which is why she’s not properly sleeping —you mean she goes back when we all go to bed?— and that she finally broke down and told the girls on the night the boys had all left for Africa.
“I…wait…no, Val this makes no sense.”
“It makes so much sense, Everett. She’s always struggling with her hair, and when she got here she had no clothes. She’s slowly been bringing things back with her on every trip to Pearls.”
“Jesus… Does Doug know!?”
“She told him last night.”
“Okay…okay that’s good…”
“She showed us her phone-”
“She carries a phone with her?! No wonder her back always hurts!”
“No, Ev,” she laughs at the image of Olive lugging a rotary around with her. “It’s so small, it fits in her pocket!”
“She’s pulling your leg, baby.”
“No! I swear! Ask her when she comes back!”
“A phone in her pocket… what else does she keep in her pocket?”
“It plays music too, and takes photos!”
“When is she coming back?”
“That’s the thing,” Val sighs. “I don’t know. Time is, well she says it moves differently between the future and now.”
“Hey, don’t worry, she’ll be back.”
“I already lost one best friend. I couldn’t stand to lose another.”
“You won’t lose her,” he pulls her closer, rubbing her back to try and reassure her. “Now come on; let’s get dressed and go find Dougie.”
It takes them three tries to get out of bed before finally, the beginnings of a headache from skipping dinner the night before start to hit them both. With the promise of coffee, they quickly clean up and dress before heading out the door.
The base is alive; and every time someone sees Val they stop and offer her a sympathetic smile. She just spies Helen and Tattie in the window of the truck as they get closer, Meatball tied to the pole on guard duty, all three perking up as they see her approach.
“Val!”
“Oh honey; are you okay?”
“I’m okay, really, Helen.”
“Chicky was here earlier,” she half groaned. “He wanted to check on you.”
“He’s still on my shit list,” she rolled her eyes and quickly entered the truck to prepare coffee for her and Ev. “Him and Red. I was in his office for a week and he just…oh he’s such a grouch!”
“He wanted to apologize…”
“Well, I’ll stop by when I feel like it,” she replied, sticking her head out the window. “Ev, breakfast?”
“Please, I’m starving.”
She quickly prepares his coffee, and one for Doug, before tossing a handful of sinkers into a paper bag for the three of them. Turning, she finds Tattie waiting for her with a smile on her face.
“Yes?”
“Good night?”
“Could ask you the same thing, Spaatz.”
“Yeah… a good night.”
“Good,” Val grins. “Dougie is waiting for Ol out by the hardstand, she had to check on Pearl-”
“He knows?”
“They both know.”
“Oh thank god! I’m not sure I could keep that a secret much longer.”
“So, we’re going to bring him coffee, check on him, because I’m sure that if I’m worried he’s ten times as worried.”
“Go on, boys are all grounded today, so do what you need to.”
“Thank you…”
“Are you…uhm, well, are you going to write to Curt’s mother?”
“Soon, yes… but, let’s see how long it takes for him to send proof of life before I send her into hysterics.”
“Whatever you need to do, you do it, okay?”
“Thank you Tat.”
“Now go on, before those coffees get cold and the grease soaks through the bag.”
She leaves Val with a wink; one that says that she’ll always be in her corner. That she’d go to bat for her if she had to. And she believes it.
By the time they get down to the hardstand, Kenny only has to nod his head in the direction of the jeep that Doug is still sitting in, and they both know he’s been anxiously perched there since this morning.
“Doug?”
“Oh! Hey!”
“Brought you some coffee and some breakfast…” Ev hands over the cup, while Val perches herself in the seat next to Dougie.
“Thanks pal,” he smiles gratefully but Val can see it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Ollie, she…she went to check on Pearl. But she’s coming back. She said she’d be right back… that was a half hour ago.”
“She’ll be back,” Val reassures him, pulling one of the donuts from the bag for him. “Now come on, let’s have breakfast. I’m starving.”
Dougie just watches her as she takes a bite of the donut she pulled from the bag for herself, and when she winks at him, smiling around her food, he smiles back before digging into his own food. The three of them sit quietly, the sounds of the ground crew working around them, until Doug turns to Val.
“Are you…Val I’m sorry…”
“What for?”
“It was so bad, and I tried to keep an eye on things, but I couldn’t see Curt.”
“It’s not your fault, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
“His squad, they ended up joining up with us, but he was behind us, I didn’t have eyes on him.”
“Doug…”
“I’ll fill in, ya know? Till he gets back, I’ll fill in as the thorn in your side.”
“You’re not a thorn in my side, James Douglass. You’re my friend, and I love you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes! What would ever make you think otherwise?”
“Not sure, really… you have Curt, and then you and DeMarco have the Italian thing going… I just figured…”
“What? You figured you’re my boyfriend's best friend, and I was just okay with you hanging around?”
“Kind of?”
“I should give you a smack,” she sighed, pulling him into a hug. “But it’s been a rough week, and we’re both going through it. Don’t you ever say that ever again.”
“I love you too, ya know?”
“Good- I don’t have any siblings. It took this damn war for me to find my brothers.”
“I don’t either… Dad died when I was young. So it was always just me and Ma.”
“Mine too,” she nodded, dropping her head to his shoulder as they watched the fort for any signs of Olive. “It was just me and Mama.”
“Not just us anymore is it?”
“No, we found a family, Dougie and I intend to fight to keep it together.”
Behind them, Ev sat looking on as his best friend and his best girl solidified their friendship. There was something to be said about it, their loss and pain made them siblings, and that’s something he’d protect and be grateful for forever.
“Oh fuck sake!”
All three heads snapped up at the sound of the hatch of Just A Snappin flying open, clanging against the belly of the fort, and then a single leg dangling from the open door.
“Wink! Get those stairs!” Kenny hollered, running over to the fort. Dougie is right on his heels, desperate to check and make sure she’s arrived back in one piece, while Ev and Val hang back in the jeep.
Ev slides up into the seat Doug was previously occupying, throwing his arm over Val’s shoulder and pulling her close.
“Feel better now that she’s back?”
“Much,” she sighed, bringing her coffee cup to her lips. “Looks like she brought more stuff…”
“Looks like she’s moving in.”
“Good,” Val grins knowingly as she watches Dougie hold Olive close. “There’s nowhere else she should be.”
Val clambers from the jeep, coffee forgotten, as Olive approaches; throwing her arms around her friend and hugging her tightly.
“Now I’m terrified it’ll be you who doesn’t come back!”
“Couldn’t keep me away if you tried,” Olive pulled back to fix her with a smile. “You’re my family. We’re for keeps, Brooklyn.”
“For keeps, English.” Val agrees, smiling back at her.
Olive turns towards Ev, who’s given the girls a moment before joining their group, and Val realizes they’re both regarding each other cautiously.
“Ernest… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…”
“Val told me,” he nodded, taking one of the bags from her to lighten the load. “There’s a lot I don’t get but, I know you belong here. That’s enough for me, Maude.”
“I brought snacks…” Olive offers up a container with the lid already off, and Val can see that Dougie has already gotten his hands on them. “Homemade jam tarts!”
“You’re forgiven,” Ev winks, snatching up two. “What? One’s for Val!”
“What’d you bring back, chickie?”
“Oh! These are for later, some records for the gramophone!”
“Who’s…Dean Martin?” Dougie peeks into the bag, mouth full of food.
“You’ll love him,” Olive grins. “Oh close your mouth lovie, you’re making crumbs.”
“Yeah lovie, you’re making crumbs.” Ev teases, elbowing his friend.
“Alright you two, let’s get this stuff back to the hut and out of sight, and then Olive and I have some work to do.”
“What work? We’re grounded today…”
“Someone still has to feed you boys.”
Climbing back into the jeep, they head for the Red Cross hut, Ev up front with Doug and the girls in the back with Olive’s belongings. Both men knowing that they need a moment to check on each other, leave them to chatter quietly while they make the drive back.
“Hey, no one brought me a coffee?” Olive looks around at them as they come to a stop.
“Didn’t think you were coming home,” Ev winked, pulling his cigarettes and lighter from his pocket. “Tired of ya!”
“You sound like Chicky.” Val groaned.
“Tired of you too, Ernest, but not that tired.” Plucking the cigarette from him, Olive takes off just before he can light it, Val hot on her heels.
“Olive!”
“Payback for forgetting my coffee!” She titters as she enters the hut.
Val can just hear the smile in his voice as he complains to Doug that he joined the Air Force to escape his four sisters back home only to end up with another in England.
——————————————————————————————————
“Tattie, help me with this thing!”
“Olive, you came home with all these records but you can’t work the gramophone?”
“It’s different from Pearl’s, now come on, I promised Dougie and Ev some music!”
“Okay, okay, what are we playing first?”
Val watched from her perch on her bed, Ev sitting behind her, the two snuggled against the headboard, as Olive and Tattie argued over which record to start with. Finally, it seemed that Helen was the deciding factor, because the man on the record sleeve was handsome and she wanted to know if he sang as good as he looked.
“So, this is future music?” Ev murmured in her ear.
“It is,” Val nodded, leaning back into his chest. “It’s a lot less…hmm, aggressive, that what she played for us last week.”
“This guy’s not half bad. Hey Maude! What’s this fella’s name?”
“Dean Martin!”
“I like it,” he nodded, lighting a cigarette. “He’s got a decent voice.”
Olive's response is cut short by Dougie taking her in his arms and swaying her with the music. He’s a bit off balance and unsure of the more modern sound, but he’s having fun, and Val can’t help but smile as she watches her friends enjoying themselves. Helen and Tattie are dancing with each other, and it reminds her of the night Olive first told them her secret, the four of them dancing in their hut, proper girls, nothing but happiness.
“You okay sweetheart?”
“Hmm? Yeah, just thinking.”
“Penny for em?”
“That first night, when you boys were gone. Olive played music for us and the four of us just danced and danced. I don’t even know if we were dancing right, but I didn’t want to stop.”
“Sounds like fun…”
“It was…”
“Do you want to dance now?”
“No,” she laced her fingers with his and held on. “No I’m having too much fun watching Dougie do whatever it is he’s doing.” She laughs, the sound growing louder and her smile growing wider, the sound of it filling the hut along with the music.
“Oh! There she is!” Olive beams, bounding over to the bed and hugging her. “Good to have you back migliore amico.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“Benny.” Olive beams at her.
“I’ll have to thank him, best friend.”
Olive grins again and plants a kiss to Val’s cheek before moving back to Dougie who’s still dancing by himself, but twirling Helen and Tattie respectively on each arm. She feels safe, in the arms of Everett, surrounded by her friends -family- with endless possibilities ahead. She lets her mind wander to Curt, to the photo on her night table, her rosary next to it, praying he’s as safe as she feels. That he’s not hurt, or cold, or hungry. That somehow, he’s making his way back to them. She wants more nights out on the hardstand with him and Dickie, their friends, and the dog. More laughter. He needs to be part of this. And so, she prays. For the people in the room with her and not in the room.
Santa Maria, please, bring them home to us.
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!
Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Seven
Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)
Valencia is about to learn first-hand that not everything is as it seems. Especially when the horrors of the war threaten to take from her for the first time. Who will be there to pick her up and carry her through, and will friendship alone be enough; especially when her best friend is harboring the secret of a lifetime.
Part Six
Follow along with the Eight to The Bar Playlist
Val moved through the house with a smile, dropping her bags by the door and leaving her purse and gloves on the credenza. She could hear a voice coming from the living room, softly speaking without waiting for a reply. Turning the corner, she found Everett holding a small baby, his eyes bright as he kept talking, the baby looking up at him in wonder at each word. Pausing by the door, she stood and watched, her smile never fading.
“Mommy’s going to be home soon, and then, we can tell her all about what we did today… did you miss her while she was out to lunch with the girls? I did too, but I bet she had a great time with your Aunties. We need to make sure we remind her how much we love her, okay? Did you know mommy served in the war? Prettiest girl in East Anglia, but your Uncle Dougie might fight me on that and say it’s your Aunt Olive… Mommy made the best coffee, and she looked so pretty doing it too. Except for when your Uncle Curt would annoy her… he was really great. Did you know, he introduced me to mommy? Sometimes mommy gets sad because she misses him, so we need to remind her of the good stuff…”
No, that couldn’t be right… Curt couldn’t be gone. He wouldn’t just give up that easy; no one had more gusto during the war than he did! Then who had walked her down the aisle? Who…who’s life was she looking at? Surely not her own! Her life included her best friend, no matter how much he annoyed her, he was supposed to be there.
“No…” she whispered, the word muffled as the house around her filled with a rusting noise as she turned and ran back towards the front door, desperate to get out of this life that didn’t belong to her. “No!”
Her eyes flew open, the rustling sound continuing around her as she took in the sight of the Red Cross hut. The side table with the photos of her and her friends, her rosary sitting next to the photo of her and Everett where she had placed it before bed. Helen sleeping in her bed to her left, wrapped up like a caterpillar waiting to emerge as a butterfly, and Olive sitting up in the bed to her right flipping through the pages of a book. So that was what she had heard. Exhaling deeply, she stretched beneath her blankets, arms coming up to test the temperature in the hut.
“Morning Chickie,” she turned to face Olive, the Brit offering her a smile in return. “Up already?”
“You know me…” Olive smiled, closing her book and placing it on her side table.
Sitting up, she swung her legs from under the covers and stood, making her way to the washroom to start her morning routine. As she passed Helen, or what she assumed was Helen beneath the blankets, she gave her a shake to rouse her as well, so that the three of them could start their day.
“Nooo…” the Helen shaped blankets whined, burrowing deeper into the pillows. “Not yet… I was just about to have my big kiss with Jimmy Stewart!”
“You can kiss Jimmy Stewart at bedtime!” Val hollered from the sink, her voice muffled as she washed her face. “Right now, Herbert Nash is waiting for you to serve him coffee and wish him good morning!”
“Oh,” Helen giggled, untangling herself from the blankets. She was wrapped so tightly, Olive had to come and give her a hand. “Uh, Olive, can you uh…”
“Jeez, Helen, how tight tight did you wrap up last night Chicken, it wasn’t that cold!”
“No, but it’s so cozy. Like being held and soothed to sleep.”
“Oh, I see, you were dreaming of your sweet flyboy.”
“Olive!”
“I’m just saying,” she shrugged with a grin, watching as Helen joined Val in the washroom. “I bet it was a real nice dream too, especially when Jimmy Stewart swooped in.”
“That’s what happens when you read magazines before bed,” Val laughed, coming back into the main hut to get dressed. “Romanced by Nash and a Hollywood star.”
“And who were you dreaming of, hmm?” Helen begged the question, peeking around the wall of the washroom, toothbrush in hand. Val glanced over her shoulder as she pulled on her blouse before replying.
“Who do you think,” Val teased, not ready to give up the dream turned nightmare that seemed more like a bad omen than anything else. “Cary Grant.”
“Oooh!” Both girls teased her, their laughter filling the hut as they continued to get ready for their day, and for a moment, she forgot about the dream, and what it might have meant.
They carried on with the start of their day, dressing and quickly pulling the blankets up on the beds so that the hut wasn’t messy. Once Val was in front of the mirror, digging through her cosmetics bag, the door swung open to reveal Tattie, a small box in hand and a smile on her face.
“Morning girls!” She greeted them, setting the box down on the nearest side table, digging into it with one hand.
“Morning chickie,” Val turned, zipping the jacket of her jumpsuit halfway. “Presents?”
“New uniform requirements,” Tattie shrugged. “Don’t ask me why but, we’ve got dog tags now.”
“Dog tags?”
“Yes, so don’t lose them please.”
Handing Val her chain, the brunette inspected the two tags hanging from the thin metal chain, the second tag hanging from a smaller chain, lower than the first.
“Perfect! One for me and one for Ev!” She beamed, pulling it over her head with care not to disrupt her hair, before tucking it into her blouse.
“Oh! Olive,” Tattie called to her, Olive turning on the spot as Tattie tossed her a set of tags. “It’s official. We’re keeping you.”
“Like you had much of a choice, Spaatz.” Olive grinned, looking over her tags with awe before following Val’s lead and putting them on.
“Something like that.” Tattie winked, handing Helen her tags as well.
“Helps to have a dad in high places doesn’t it?” Val teased, grabbing her cigarettes and old lighter with one hand, and her rosary with her other. Once all three items were secured inside her pockets, she linked arms with Olive and gestured to the door.
“Shall we?”
“Come on Chicken,” Olive beamed. “I suspect there’s two men hankering for a coffee and a good morning kiss out there.”
“Helen? Are you coming or waiting for Jimmy Stewart?” Val teased, reaching her arm back to gesture to her friend.
“Oh you’re so funny,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing Val’s hand and heading out the door with both her and Olive, Tattie right on their heels. “You’ll never let me live it down, will you!”
“We will, don’t worry.” Val chuckled.
“After you’ve had a proper song with Herbert Nash.” Olive grinned wickedly, wiggling her eyebrows as she looked at Helen.
“And who says I haven’t!”
“Helen!”
“What? He’s very charming!”
Pulling open the door, the four girls are met with the thickest smog to ever grace East Anglia, at least, that’s what it felt like.
“They can’t fly in this!” Val crowed, turning to Tattie with a worried look in her eye, as if hoping the woman had an answer. “Chicky’s got to ground them, right?”
“I don’t know, Valencia,” Tattie gave her hand a squeeze in solidarity, letting her know she shared the same worry. “For now, let’s just do what they need us to, hmm?”
“Okay… come on then. Coffee’s not going to brew itself.”
“I made the first batch of sinkers on the early shift.”
“You love the early shift, don’t ya Tat.” Olive teased from Val’s other side.
“It’s not so bad.” she grinned, and Val could see a hint of something simmering beneath the surface; but that was something for another time.
Approaching the Clubmobile, Val could just make out four figures leaning against the side. As they got closer she could see that it was Jack Kidd, Dougie, Herbert Nash and Everett. The boys were smoking and chatting amongst themselves, the three veteran flyboys appeared to be giving Nash the lowdown on how mornings usually unfolded on base.
“Excuse me fellas.” Everett tossed his cigarette down before pushing off the truck and making his way to Val.
Quickly untangling her arm from Olive’s and breaking away from the other three girls, Valencia met Everett halfway, falling into him with ease as he pressed his lips to hers in greeting. They kept it clean, aware of their friends being so near to them, before pulling away slowly.
“Good morning…”
“Hmm, good morning,” Val grinned, her thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth. “You got a little something…”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, and we don’t need Chicky seeing you with lipstick all over your face.”
“No,” he laughed, giving her thumb a quick kiss before she pulled back. “I don’t need a chewing out this early in the day.”
“If he can even find you in this soup.” She frowned, taking his hands, her grip trying not to come across as desperate, regardless of how she felt.
“Red’s got eyes in his ass, they’ll find us.”
His fingers brushed back a few strands of her hair that had fallen victim to the early morning breeze, his thumb grazing her temple. His big, hazel eyes went wide for a moment, looking over her shoulder to find his friends all in similar positions. He clocked Dougie and Olive, his bombardier had his better half pressed up against the side of the truck as he kissed her good morning, while Helen was giggling at something Nash had said, the fresh pilot looking a little too rigid with the higher ranking officers around him. And Tattie and Jack were, well he wasn’t sure, but they were talking softly and he had some strange look in his eye that Ev couldn’t quite place.
“So, what’s brought this on hmm?”
“Ran into Nash last night walking back from your hut. He had caught up with Rosie so we all went back together,” Ev gestured over his shoulder. “We thought it might be nice to surprise you before the day got started.”
“And Jack?”
“He sort of just tagged along… not sure what that’s about.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” Val grinned. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“You think…?” He wrapped his arms around her, swaying her in place.
“Oh absolutely,” she laughed, arms sliding up the back of his leather jacket. “Jack’s got a twinkle in his eye.”
“You have a twinkle in your eye.” His face pressed into the crook of her shoulder, his eyes closing against her cheek, lashes tickling her gently.
“I wonder why that is.”
His reply was cut short by Olive hollering that the coffee was done, Dougie front and center at the window so he could get his first cup.
“No sugar, please, lovey.”
Val could just see the blush on Olive’s face at the nickname, shaking her head as she climbed into the truck to help her serve the boys.
“Oh, you like that one!” Dougie looked triumphant, taking the coffee from Olive with a grin.
“That one?”
“I’m trying out nicknames,” he explained, waving at Val. “Olive likes that one, I can tell.”
“Everett,” Val turned to her boyfriend, passing over his coffee. “Please don’t try any new nicknames for me, okay?”
“I gotcha,” he laughed. “Besides, we tested out sweet cheeks and you hated it.”
“Still hate it,” she grimaced. “Sounds funny and, dunno, just not like you.”
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I remember.”
“Ah, better.” She smiled, clocking two small boys running across the field from the hardstand at breakneck speed, laughing the whole way.
“Incoming,” Helen laughed, side stepping and pulling Nash with her.
“Who’s kids are those?” He asked, looking around at the group.
“Billy and Sammy,” Helen replied, pointing out each respectively. “Local boys who’ve taken a shine to Kenny and Winks.”
“The ground crew fellas, right?”
“Right. They came by one day while the two of them were working and we haven’t been able to shake em since.”
“Colonel Harding’s okay with that?”
“He doesn’t mind much,” Tattie patted Nash on the shoulder as she moved behind him to join Olive and Val in the truck. “As long as they don’t get in the way of work, and they’re behaved, he’s fine.”
The two young boys almost ran head first into the Clubmobile, Everett reaching his arm out to catch Sammy from falling as he tripped.
“Woah, Sammy! Easy pal!”
“Sorry Captain Ev!” The young boy giggled as Everett ruffled his hair, and Val couldn’t help but recall the better part of her dream that was Ev and the baby, and the gentle nature he had taken.
“Are you two behaving?” He looked down at them much like a parent would, but a teasing smile on his face.
“Yeah!” They chorused, hoping it was convincing enough.
“Alright, well, go on, I think Miss Olive has something for you.”
Olive had two fresh donuts on a piece of kitchen roll for them, and Val could practically see their mouths watering at the sight. She quickly grabbed two of the smaller mugs from under the counter and filled them with milk before topping them off with some of the coffee; a little something to make the kids feel like they were grown ups. Something her Nonna used to do back home, but with slightly less milk and definitely more coffee.
“Alright boys, careful,” Val leaned down with the two cups, their small hands grabbing at them eagerly before realizing she had made them a coffee. “And don’t tell your Ma! It’s our secret.”
“Wow! Coffee!” Billy’s eyes grew wide, his mouth pulled wide in a smile up at Val.
“What do you say, hmm fellas?” Dougie ruffled their hair as he passed them by.
“Thank you Miss Val and Miss Olive!” They cheered before running back towards the hardstands.
“You gave two hyper kids coffee? Jeez Val!”
“Oh relax, it’s mostly milk.”
“Oh! Well, that’s smart of you.” Olive grinned.
“Right,” Val winked. “Not just a pretty face.”
“The prettiest, though,” Ev winked, passing his half smoked cigarette to her through the hatch with a smile. “Morning Maude. Did we lose Doug?”
“Ernest,” Olive teased, looking out at where Dougie had just been standing with the boys. “He was just here, I’m not sure where he is actually.”
“Okay sourpuss, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Ev grinned, gesturing to the figure approaching in the fog.
“There he is!” Olive breathed, leaving the truck to meet him halfway.
Val remained in the truck with Tattie, the two brunettes leaning on the open hatch to talk to their friends while Doug had pulled Olive to the side to talk privately.
“Still can’t believe you gave those kids coffee,” Tattie laughed. “Even the slightest bit!”
“Oh stop, my Nonna used to give me coffee when I was their age. It’s nothing.”
“That actually makes a lot of sense.” Jack looked up at her, half smile on his face.
“Oh? And why’s that?”
“Just one of those things.” He shrugged as she passed him his own cup.
“I don’t think much of it. Those kids’ll be drinking it eventually, it may as well come from adults who are watching them.”
“Did your Nonna give Biddick coffee when he was a kid, too?” Helen asked.
“Absolutely not!” Val roared, laughing at the look on Helen’s face. “That boy does not need anything else, he’s hyper enough.”
The laughter of the group filled the foggy space around the truck, casually sipping their morning coffee and picking on the first few donuts that had been set out. Nash looked like it was a privilege to be among the group, sticking close to Helen even though the other boys had done a good job at making him feel welcome.
“Doug! You need smokes?” Ev called from his perch outside the hatch of the Clubmobile. Val was handing him down two packs, not waiting for Doug to answer.
“Thanks Val,” Doug grinned, tipping his imaginary hat at her as he came back from where he was with Olive, the girl now wearing an oversize jacket that Val made a mental note to ask her about later. “You sure know me well.”
“Kind of my job, Dougie.”
He was about to respond, mouth open and eyes wide with what was sure to be a smart ass remark, when Chick Harding’s voice cut through their morning reprieve. The Colonel came marching across the grass, hands on his hips as he stopped in front of the truck.
“Alright you lot, briefings about to start let’s go!”
He waved both Ev and Doug away and into the hut, giving Jack a good natured shove in the same direction. He appraised Nash quickly, the new pilot taking one look at the Colonel and dashing off in the other direction without more than a wave goodbye to Helen.
“Replacement?” Chick looked over his shoulder where Nash had run off, an amused look on his face.
“Yes, Chicky,” Val sighed from the window. “His name is Nash.”
“Valencia…” he warned, all the annoyance of a dad who loved his daughter present as he looked up at her.
His face softened as she placed his coffee on the ledge of the hatch, fixed perfectly, and a second cup for Red Bowman next to it.
“Thank you.” he gave her a half sheepish smile, the brunette in the truck shaking her head at him even as she handed him two donuts.
“That one’s for Red, and here, eat something for Christ sake.”
“We ate already.”
“Don’t lie to us, Chick, I was up early and I saw you and Bowman in the tower, not the mess hall.” Tattie turned on him, her own scowl present.
“Fine, we’ll eat,” he sighed. “Thank you. Now, can I get you girls to close up the truck and come with me please?”
“What?”
“Briefing hut, all of you, please.”
“Chicky…”
“Miss Tattie, we’ll tell ya when you get inside. Now come on.”
Val turned to Tattie, her own face a mirror image, while Helen stood nervously on the grass.
“Alright, you three, let’s close it up for now.” Tattie gestured to the girls, the confusion not ebbing as they followed Harding’s orders.
“Take the dang dog on your way in, would ya? Don’t need him out here unsupervised.”
Val dusted off her jumpsuit before climbing down from the truck, looping her arm with Helen, who was still standing in place on the grass. Olive had run ahead to meet Benny at the door of the briefing hut to take Meatball from him.
“You don’t think…” Helen’s voice was a whisper, and laced with nerves. “Do you think he knows about Nash and me?”
“Oh Helen, if he was mad about that, he wouldn’t tell you in the briefing hut.”
“I mean, I know we’re technically not supposed to have relationships with the men, but we see them every day!”
“Helen, if you think Red and Chicky don’t already know…” Val laughed, remembering how Red’s voice had boomed across the tannoy the night before, hollering for Dougie to get to bed.
“Oh, Bowman has eyes in his ass!” Olive joined their conversation, now with Meatball dutifully at her side.
“Eww!” Helen shuddered with a laugh.
“It’s a stupid rule anyway,” Tattie joined them, coming up on Helen’s other side. “How can they expect us not to get close to these boys!”
“Tattie Spaatz, defying the rules?” Val balked. “Why I never thought I’d see the day!”
“You hush,” she turned to her, voice stern but eyes glimmering with something mischievous. “Come on, let’s see what this is all about hmm?”
The girls entered the briefing hut, all passing by Red at the door as he greeted them with a tight smile.
“Spaatz, DiRosano, Porter, Lewis,” he addressed them all by their last names, only rarely ever using their first names. “Come on in girls.”
They followed him further into the hut, the men around them talking amongst themselves. The chatter in the room filled the large space, all of them seemingly doing their best to ignore that a mission was quite literally looming overhead, and that tomorrow, some of these faces may not be here to laugh with. Val tried not to think about it too hard, especially with so many of the faces being her friends and more.
“Okay, Chick, why are we here?” Tattie’s arms were folded under her bust, and suddenly it was General Spaatz’s daughter staring down Colonel Chick Harding, cigar wedged between his lips and all.
“Need to make sure that dang mutt doesn’t get lost in here again.”
“You hardly need four of us to watch Meatball, he’s not that bad.”
“Alright, fine,” Chick sighed, beckoning the four of them closer. “Bowman, tell em.”
“This is a big one girls,” Red sighed. “And we’re not blind to the fact that some of you have gotten close to some of the men, and we feel it’s unfair to keep you in the dark.”
“How big?” Olive squeaked.
“Big, Lewis. Real big.”
Olive nodded, the hand not holding Meatball’s leash grabbing at Val, her nails digging in unintentionally.
“You know we’ll find out anyway, but you think it’s better if we hear it first hand.”
“Exactly.”
“It doesn’t lessen the worry, Red.”
“No, Valencia, I suppose it doesn’t, but, somewhere along the way you four got under everyone’s skin here and the fellas all love ya, they respect the hell outta ya’s and well, Chick and I feel the same.”
“Chick Harding is going soft, girls.” Tattie smirked, but nodded at the man in front of her just the same.
“I ain’t soft, Spaatz.” He groaned, cigar smoke pluming around him as he spoke.
“Alright Chicky, you’re not soft,” she conceded. “Where do you want us to sit?”
“In the back, if you don’t mind.”
“Come on girls, let’s find some chairs hmm?”
“And no balls!” Chick called after them, prompting a
shrill whine to erupt from Meatball, several of the men in the room turning to look at him, the rumble of laughter and the dog's name filling the room.
Making her way towards the back with the girls, Val doesn’t register the presence of someone behind her until his voice cuts above the rest, loud and full of energy.
“There she is! There’s the gal!”
“My god, Curt, do you ever just, I don’t know, say hello like a normal person?”
“Now why would I do that?” He grinned, pulling her into a hug on the spot.
“No you’re right, why would you.” She rolled her eyes, hugging him back regardless.
“Hey, what are yous doing in here? This ain’t your usual spot.”
“Chicky wanted us in on this one,” her voice now lowered so that only he could hear her. “It’s big, and they don’t want us hearing anything second hand.”
“Well, you gals should be included! You’re damn important if ya ask me.”
“Thanks, Curt, but we’re still only Red Cross. I only know so much because Chicky can’t type to save his life.”
“Yea well, yous should know more,” he grinned, pulling out his cigarettes. “And not just cause me and the rest of the fellas tell you.”
“Curt,” Olive joined them, the pilot throwing an arm over her shoulders in greeting. “Want me to save you a seat?
“Heya English,” he gave her a squeeze before letting her go. “Thanks, but Dickie’s got us chairs up front with your boys.”
“Ah, grand!” Olive gave his arm a friendly pat before tugging on Meatball’s lead to head back to the seats the girls were occupying.
“I’ll see ya after, gal. Have a coffee ready for me!”
“Pain in the ass!” Val called after him as he walked away, taking the seat on the end of a row, Dickie to his right.
Just as Dickie offered a wave from his spot, Val spotted Everett, Doug and Croz in the row behind them, Everett’s hazel eyes going wide at seeing her in the briefing room before spotting the other girls behind her. She shrugged and his brows furrowed, just as the officer at the door called for attention, and every single man in the room stood as Chicky made his way to the front with Red at his side. The girls quickly hurried to the four chairs at the back of the room, Val taking the seat next to Olive, who was trying to settle Meatball. The husky seemed annoyed that all of his friends were in one room and no one would play with him, and kept whining at Olive’s feet. At the front of the room, Chick Harding commanded attention, and Val couldn’t help but feel rooted to the spot as the whole room focused on him. Next to her, Olive was petting Meatball, shushing him as quietly as she could until finally, his head came to rest on her lap.
“What’s up?” Val turned to her, her right hand scratching between his ears.
“He’s just moping because all his friends are here and no one will play.”
At the mere mention of the word play, Meatball began huffing and whining again, looking between Olive and Val to see which one would start their game first.
“Not now buddy,” Olive spoke in hushed tones, trying to keep him quiet. “After, I promise.”
“Meatball…” Val warned, trying her hand at quieting him down. “Stai zitto, questo è importante.”
Be quiet, this is important.
“Aww he’s just a baby,” Helen came from Olive’s other side, reaching for the dog who was now lapping up all the attention. “He doesn’t mean it.”
“Girls,” Tattie’s whisper fell over the three of them. “Quiet, or Chicky is going to regret ever asking us in here.”
“Today, the mighty eighth will be sending up a max effort of three air task forces, totaling 376 heavy bombers and 240 fighters!” Chicky’s voice carried through the room, all of the men cheering like it was a football game. “That’s the largest air armada ever assembled in the history of mankind!”
Val caught the excitement from the corner of the room where her friends sat, both Everett and Doug, and Curt and Dickie shared a shout of excitement before focusing back on the Colonel at the front of the room.
“We will be in the first task force, targeting a Messerschmitt 109 engine assembly plant in Regensburg,” he announced, the men around him scribbling notes. “The second and third task forces will hit the ball bearing factories in Schweinfurt, because no war machine moves without em!”
Val noticed that Chick looked proud, and it was a foreign expression to see on the man. Normally she’d see him grumbling and complaining about this or that, the dog, the coffee and what have you. But this, he seemed infinitely proud of his men, and the Hundredth. When he mentioned that there were an infinite number of lives they could save if this mission went off as planned, the men in the room fell into a hush, talking quietly amongst themselves, presumably to determine who might be leading this, and she couldn’t help but pick up rumbling of both the names Egan and Cleven the most.
Chicky called for their attention, his arm gesturing to the curtain behind him which the Corporal dutifully pulled back, revealing a map, and a route that looked terribly long, at least to her untrained eye. Whistles and groans replaced the hushed awe of just moments ago, and she just picked up on Harry Crosby groaning oh boy as he caught sight of what he would surely have to navigate his crew through.
“Bowman.”
Taking his cue, Red stepped in for Chick, coming to stand in front of the map before he began speaking, his New England accent filling the room as he addressed the men.
“It’s a three punch combo,” he began, arm coming out to trace the first of three colored strings. “And the Luftwaffe will only be able to defend one of them!”
“Uh, Major?” Curt’s voice, quieter than everyone, especially Val was used to, interrupted Red Bowman’s speech. “Why’s that red line go all the way down through Africa?”
“Well, that is a characteristically astute question Curt, and I’ll get to that in a minute if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah yeah, go on and laugh…” Curt groaned, sliding down in his seat as the room broke into peals of laughter.
Val just managed to catch Everett leaning forward in his seat to flick the pencil from behind Curt’s ear in what could only be described as sibling banter, one pilot to another as he mumbled a drawn out fuuuuck you to Curt before both of them turned to see her shaking her head in exasperation. Like a mother whose children had exhausted her, Val pointed up to the front of the room, making sure they both focused on what Red was still talking about- second task force turning around, rearming and refueling, enemy territory, ME109’s until finally, a single sentence put the whole room into near deafening silence.
“You’re going to Africa, gentlemen.”
“Val… Val did he say Africa?”
“Yea, he said Africa, Ol…”
“Dear god,” the Brit whispered from her spot next to her, one hand gripping Val’s with such force, she could feel her leaving small crescents in the skin of her palm, while the other was still buried in Meatball’s fur. “Why…why Africa… it’s so far…”
“Olive, hey, chickie, calm down, it’s alright.”
“I don’t like this.”
Olive was borderline shaking in her seat, her eyes wide as they continued to listen to Red talk about the boys landing in Africa and linking up with the 12th who had promised ice cold beer. A holiday. With the fog outside not letting up, Val couldn’t help but wonder exactly how Chick and Red expected the boys to get up in the air safely, never mind General LeMay and his plan for them. It just didn’t seem safe. Olive’s nerves seemed to confirm that, her fear now on full display in the back of the room.
“Tattie…” Val whispered, leaning over towards her to pinch her arm. “Give me your flask.”
“Val…”
“Give it here, please.” She gestured to Olive, and Tattie handed it over to her after a single glance at the girl, her eyes softening.
“Ol, drink.”
“What?”
“Come on, drink, it’ll settle your nerves.”
Olive takes the flask from her, taking a generous sip before passing it back to Val, who also takes a generous sip. When Tattie pulls it from her grasp with a roll of her eyes, she can’t help but wonder if what she suspects is going on between her and Jack Kidd has her just as rattled. Half expecting her to take a sip as well, Val watches as Tattie slips it back into her pocket before pulling out her cigarettes and lighting one.
“Major Kidd will be command pilot in Blakely’s fort-” Chicky announced.
“Oh god… they’re leading them all into this soup.” Val murmured, dropping her head back.
“Major Egan will be riding with Captain Cruikshank as…reserve command pilot of the group.”
“What the hell is a reserve command pilot?” Helen furrowed her brows, her gentle expression turned somewhat sour.
“I think it means Egan didn’t want to be left out.”
“When does he ever.”
“Gentlemen, good luck, and I’ll see you in a couple of days. Dismissed!”
As the men in the room stand to exit, Tattie stands and begins leading the girls from the hut, and like ducks in a row, they follow her. Olive is behind Val, one hand holding Meatball’s lead and the other still gripping onto Val’s wrist; mostly so she didn’t get lost in the shuffle of bodies leaving the room. As they approach the door, she spots Ev waiting for her, arms folded over his chest, cigarette between his lips, cheeky grin on his face.
“And why were you four in there?” He throws his arm over Val’s shoulder as she approaches, guiding her out of the hut as Dougie does the same with Olive.
“Chicky invited us…”
“He did? Why?”
“Said we deserved to know about this one.” Her voice sounded small, and so unlike her, even to her own ears.
“And now that you know?” Ev stopped just outside the truck, taking her hands in his.
“It’s Africa, Everett…”
“Yeah,” he sighed, and could feel her anxiety over the situation rolling off her in waves. This is why he felt the way he did about her being in the briefing room the last time, except now, Colonel Harding had asked her to be in there and he could hardly fight it. “I can’t say I’m thrilled with the location either.”
“It’s bad enough when you’re up for a few hours, but this? Days?”
“Hey, come here,” guiding her off to the side of the truck, behind the open doors off the back, he hoped she’d tell him what was really eating at her. “Talk to me, what’s going on hmm?”
She wasn’t sure if she should tell him about the dream from that morning. About how she dreamt of their future, their child, but that something -someone- was missing entirely from that almost perfect scenario. In telling him, would she be giving that nightmarish fear of losing her oldest friend an escape from her mind and setting it loose upon reality? Would it scare him? Make him more nervous than he already was? Or, would it give him more reasons to fight, and fly so safely and smoothly that he’d come back to her, and lead the rest of their friends home safely too?
“Want you to take this,” she chose against the former, reaching into the collar of her blouse and instead, pulling out her new dog tags. “One for you and one for me.”
“You have tags now?”
“Got them this morning,” she confirmed, yanking the lower hanging one from the chain. “I can’t go up with you, so this is the next best thing.”
“You know I take you up with me every time, right?”
“In your heart, the same way Curt told me he takes me up with him, yes.”
“Yes, in my heart,” he grinned, taking the tag from her hand and swiftly pulling his own out from his collar. “But also, in the red braid you’ve so securely tied to my wrist.”
He pulled his own extra tag from his chain, putting the one with her name in its place before handing her the one with his name. Blakely, Everett E. The significance of carrying each other's names wasn’t lost on her, and she knew that if he was giving her back the same weight that her name carried to him, with his own, that there was stock to be taken in that dream. More stock in the good, and less in the fears she was projecting in losing someone she loved.
“Also, I do take you with me,” he tucked his tags back into his shirt, before pulling out a small photograph from the breast pocket of his flight suit and handing it to her. “See? You go everywhere with me, baby.”
It was a photo she hadn’t ever seen of herself before, but could tell you exactly where it had been taken. The night in the officers club after Curt had been announced safe in Scotland- one too many cocktails had her perched comfortably in Ev’s lap, but he wasn’t in the picture. It was just her, and she was looking over at someone else and grinning, her bottom lip snugly between her teeth as she tried not to cackle with laughter, her eyes dancing with mirth.
“When did you sneak this?” She looked up at him, the picture between two of her fingers in place of her usual cigarette as she waved it in his face, eyes and lips mimicking the frozen image of herself.
“Don’t you worry about when,” Ev plucked it back from her, tucking it safely away over his heart, and then pulled her close. “Just remember, you’re with me every single day, even if I’m not on the ground.”
“Please,” pressing her face into his chest, breathing him in, committing it to memory. “Please don’t do anything stupid, and protect each other, all of you.”
“You know I won’t get reckless,” he pressed his lips to the crown of her head, uncaring of the hairspray she had set it with. “I’ve got too much at stake here on the ground to risk getting reckless.”
“As much as it pains me to say it, listen to Jack.”
“I will… you behave here while I’m gone, yeah? No getting up to mischief with the girls.”
“No promises.” She grinned, peeking up at him before standing on her toes to press her lips to his.
“Yeah, even in this soup I saw that coming a mile away,” shaking his head, he kissed her back, knowing that time was ticking away and his crew would be heading for the hardstand soon. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Pulling away, they turned to head back to the front of the truck so that she could carry on with work and he could get his coffee before leaving, when Curt rounded the corner wild eyed and looking for trouble.
“There ya are! Oh, Val!” He called in a singsong voice. “You promised me a coffee!”
“You demanded coffee,” giving his shoulder a shove, he let out a y laugh at her fiery behavior. “There’s three other girls in the truck, Curtis.”
“Curtis?! Ouch!”
“Serves you right.”
“I’d like to be served coffee, maybe a donut for good measure.”
“You are a pain in my ass, you know that?”
“Yeah I know,” he grinned. “Are you good? Is she good?”
Yeah, I’m okay,” Val nodded. “Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m good… got my bracelet and everything,” lifting his wrist; he wiggled it so both Val and Ev could see . “It broke the other day but I tied it back on.”
“CURT! No! You’re not supposed to, you know that!”
“It’s fine, gal!”
“I don’t have time to make you a new one…”
“You don’t gotta, it’s fine!”
She knew the distress on her face was evident when Everett stepped between her and Curt. She watched as he dropped a hand to Curt’s shoulder fixing him with a look that said he ought to know better than to mess around with what Val considered to be sacred.
“Curt, even I know you don’t mess around with that.”
“Ah, it’s not the first time I tied it back on myself, won’t be the last,” Curt grinned, slipping out from under Ev’s grip and heading to the window of the Clubmobile. “Now how about that coffee for the road?”
With a roll of her eyes at Curt and a quick kiss to Ev’s cheek, Val climbs back into the truck where Helen is pouring coffee and passing out smokes and snacks to the boys lined up dutifully at the window. Tattie is a few feet away on the grass trying to pry Olive and Dougie apart with a soft smile, knowing they both have jobs to do regardless of the nervous energy swirling around the base. She hears Olive tell Doug that she’ll fix him a snack for the road, and sets about doing the same for Everett and the rest of the Just A Snappin crew.
“Ev, what do you and the crew need for the trip?” She leans out the window, handing him another coffee and a donut. She knows that like many of the boys, he’s not the biggest fan of the powdered eggs, and usually chooses not to eat them before a flight. “Curt! Get out of the truck!”
“How’d you even know it was me?” He grumbled, jumping down from the back of the truck to join the rest of the guys on the grass. DeMarco, who had been walking towards the truck with his crew, turned and raised his coffee in a salute, laughing at the put out look on Curt’s face.
“Busted, Biddick!” Benny shouted.
“Okay, okay. You,” Val gestured to Curt, holding out two coffees, and gesturing with a nod of her head to the two donuts on the window. “Take these, and the donuts, they’re for you and Dickie.”
“Thanks gal! Love you!” He grinned,grabbed his provisions, and blew her a cheeky kiss before running off to join his crew, uncaring of the coffee sloshing over the side of his cup.
“A mess,” she shook her head. “Now, what do you need, handsome?”
“You gave me smokes before,” he smiles, lifting the coffee to his lips. “Not sure what the rest of my boys need though, and I know Olive has Dougie all squared away.”
“Well, take another pack of smokes, and if the crew needs anything, send em over.”
“Thanks baby,” he grinned, turning to face the rest of the men on his crew with a soft authority that Val knew was the reason they all respected him so much. “Alright boys, if you need anything, go see Val so she can set you up!”
————————————————————
“Meatball, no! Uh, Olive a little help please?”
Looking out the window, Val found Helen on the ground, Meatball pawing at her excitedly as he mistook her securing him to the pole for playtime. The poor girl was dusting off his fur and trying not to sneeze as Olive came around the front to help her, laughing as she pulled the husky from Helen’s lap.
“Helen, you know how he gets…”
“He only listens to you and DeMarco.” She grumbled, wincing as Meatball let loose a howl at the mere mention of his favorite human’s name.
“Oh now look what you started,” Val groaned. “You know saying Benny’s name gets him all wild.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Helen sighed, standing and trying to get all the grass and husky fur off her uniform. “Meatball, he can’t hear you from here boy!”
“He doesn’t know that.” Olive chuckled, securing the leash just as a jeep came to a screeching halt, startling the girls and the dog.
“Garcia,” Val addressed the man behind the wheel, lighting a cigarette and coming around the front of the truck to join Helen and Olive. “What can we do for you?”
“Just stopping by to let you know the fellas have got a thirty minute delay.”
“Not surprising in this shit.” She gestured to the fog still swirling around them.”
“If you girls wanted to drop them another hot coffee and cheer em up… maybe say goodbye again.” He suggested, gesturing subtly to the empty seats in his jeep.
“Say less!” Olive grinned, unhooking Meatball and guiding him towards the jeep.
“Give me two minutes, let me put a bag together for them.” Val smiled, turning back towards the truck. She had two coffees and a bag of donuts ready in record time, jumping into the jeep with Olive as Tattie and Helen waved them off from the Clubmobile with a smile.
“Step on it Garcia!” Val calls up to him with a laugh. “They’ll take the news better if it comes from us!”
“You got that right, DiRosano,” he laughed. “They sure like looking at you two more than they like looking at me!”
Without another word, Garcia steps on the gas, the jeep and its occupants beginning their journey through the mist. Meatball whined from his spot between Olive and Val, no doubt picking up the scents of all the fellas who had been driven out the same way on their trucks only a short while ago. Even with the headlights on, the road ahead was barely visible, and Val wasn’t sure how Garcia was managing it, maybe it was muscle memory, but she just hoped he got them to the hardstand in one piece.
“It’s a real pea-souper, this one.” Garcia huffed, turning to avoid the hardstand of another fort that Val wasn’t able to identify.
“Do you reckon they’ll call it off?” Olive practically begged, hoping for the answer she wanted to hear.
“Not a chance, Lewis,” he sighed a bit apologetically. “This is a big one. Brass are taking a lotta risks and–well, I’d better zip it.”
“It’s nothing I won’t find out in a few weeks when I’m typing reports for Chicky,” Val retorts, reaching around to pet Meatball. “No need to keep it quiet.”
“Sorry, Val, force of habit to zip my lips and all…”
“It’s fine, Garcia, we know. We were in the briefing room this morning.”
“Yeah? God, The Brass must really like you ladies… I think everyone on this base likes you ladies actually.”
Not sure what else to say, the trio continues to drive in silence, Garcia seeming to have run out of polite conversation within a few moments. The brakes screech as they come to a stop, and Val looks up to find the all too familiar silhouette of Just A Snappin looming in the distance, the plane somehow even more intimidating now, as opposed to the night she had been out here with Everett, and only the headlights of a jeep illuminated her. The fog almost completely covered it, and even though she could just see the nose in the distance, it felt tremendous.
“Alright you three, this is your stop.”
“Thanks Garcia!”
Jumping from the jeep, careful of the coffees in her hands, donuts having been passed to Olive earlier, she watches as Meatball bounds away into the mist, the dog gone in a flash.
“Damnit, where’d he go!”
“Probably to find DeMarco…”
“Great, that’ll be fun later.”
“Maybe Kenny and Wink will find him before we do.” Olive chuckled, looping her arm through Val’s as they began walking closer to the fort.
“Chickie, I can see through this haze just as well as you can.”
“This is so we don’t lose each other.” Olive laughs in return, resting her head on Val’s shoulder for a short second.
“Ol, that’ll never happen. I promise.” Val smiled, though Olive couldn’t see it, and dropped her head to her friends for a moment.
They walk silently, arm in arm and careful not to bump a tire, or the wing as their steps take them closer to the fort. Val catches a glance of Olive trying, in vain, to wrap her jacket around her with her free hand, and realizes she’s never seen Olive wearing it before. It’s too big for the other woman, and littered in various patches and insignias. Yes, it must belong to Douglass.
“Dougie’s?” Val asks, gesturing with her elbow to the jacket. .
“Yeah! Sewed all these on himself,” Olive beams at her. “Ain't it neat?”
“He…he did…Sewed…himself?” Val practically balks, turning to Olive with her eyes wide.
“Yeah!”
“Ol, I've been sewing all of his patches and clothes!” Val exclaims, green eyes wide. “Ever since Ev and I started seeing each other, I’ve taken care of all the guys in their fort.”
“Oh?”
“Wait till I get my hands on him...” She sighed as they approached the fort, ducking under the wing to find both their men, and select members of the crew laying about on the hardstand.
“Well lookie here!” Dougie exclaimed, standing as he spotted the girls approaching. Ev, who had been leaning back against the wheel, scrambling to stand upon spotting Val. “What are you two doing all the way out here?”
“Garcia wanted us to share some news.” Olive grinned, glancing at Val.
“Yeah? Well, let’s have it then.”
“Thirty minute delay!” They both yelled at the same time, Olive doing a little wiggle of her hands and hips to try and make it entertaining.
Both boys immediately fell into laughter, even Charlie Via joining in from where he was still on the ground. Somehow, Val knew it wasn’t just about making their boys laugh, but the whole crew.
“Is The Clubmobile serving snacks and putting on a show now, Maude?” Everett grinned, throwing an arm over Val’s shoulder as she kissed him on the cheek, his coffee still in her hand.
“Hey, get it for free while you can.” Olive winked, taking Dougie’s coffee from Val and handing it over. “Olive and The Clubmobile Gals,” Val smiled. “It’s got some jazz to it!”
“You gonna be a star, Maude? Take care of all of us?”
“You bet, Ernest.” She laughs as Dougie wraps his arms around her waist and gives her a squeeze before stopping in his tracks at the wild look Val is giving him.
“Uh, Val?”
“I’ve got a bone to pick with you James Douglass…”
“Uhm, can you leave my bones? I need to drop bombs in a few hours and well, I need them.”
“Oh, you’re in trouble baby.” Olive titters, hand covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her giggle.
“You! Sewing!”
“Oh… yeah, heh… well, I know when I’ve been caught.”
“Dougie! I’ve been sewing all your clothes and patches for months now!”
“I know,” he laughs at Val’s annoyed expression, and she can see the gears turning behind his eyes. “It just makes me feel safer when you do it.”
Val’s face softens immediately, falling back against Ev once more as Olive lets out an aww at Doug’s confession. How could she argue with that?
“Aw, darling, that's so sweet!” Olive kisses his cheek softly, unable to hide the affection for him in that moment.
“The puppy dog eyes work every time.” Doug smiled down at her, thinking that Val was preoccupied with Everett.
“You’re a little shit, Doug!” She hollered from where she stood, Ev pulling her aside so that they could have a quiet moment, while Olive and Doug did the same.
“So…Garcia really drove you two all the way out here?”
“He did. He thought you might need another hot coffee, or a kiss goodbye.”
“He said that?”
“Well, not in such a way, but, yes.”
“So you brought me hot coffee and a kiss hmm?”
“I did! Are you happy?”
“Well, all I got was a kiss on the cheek, but maybe if you-”
Val wasted not a moment longer before leaning up on her toes to reach Everett’s lips, neither caring if her Victory Red stained his own lips, she just wanted to feel closer to him.
“Better?”
“Much better,” holding her against his chest, she felt him press his nose into her hair, and just barely heard the sound of him taking a deep breath, as if he was committing the scent of her to memory. “You know I love the real thing.”
“You mean my lipstick smudged all over you.”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Fresh,” she wiped at his lip with her thumb, her movements slowing as she tried to force herself to believe that he would come back to her. “I can’t send you off to Africa with lipstick all over your mouth.”
“No I don’t suppose it would be a good look would it.”
“Bring me back something?” She posed the question lightly, casually, as if he had said he was going to the corner store and she asked him to get her an ice cream bar.
“Not sure what they have in Africa, but, I’ll see what I can rustle up.”
“Thanks handsome.” She winked, and was about to kiss him again when the sound of someone approaching caused her to stop short.
“I thought I heard yous girls!”
“Hi Curt,” she turned and flashed him an impossibly tight smile, and he knew he had just interrupted a potential kiss, like any good brother would. “Yes, you heard us.”
“What are ya doing out here hmm?”
“Garcia drove us out so we could tell the boys about the delay.”
“Jeez Blakely, you get the news from two pretty ladies and I gotta hear it from Garcia? What gives!”
“Get yourself a pretty Red Cross girl, Curt, and maybe you won’t have to see Garcia every time there’s a delay,” Ev laughed, slapping his friend on the shoulder before walking away. “I’ll give you both a minute, yeah?”
“Thanks honey.”
“Yeah, thanks honey!” Curt called after him, only to be met with Ev Blakely’s middle finger.
“You deserved that.” Val gave him a gentle shove.
“Yea I know,” Curt grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and hugging her close. “This is some soup…”
“Reminds me of the fog that rolls in off the water back home.”
“Always spooked me as a kid.”
“Still gives me the chills now…”
The pair stood there under the cover of Just A Snappin’s wing, silent as the mist swirled around them, trying to find something in the distance that wasn’t obscured in haze. She wasn’t sure how to say goodbye for this particular flight. Usually, Curt would snatch his coffee from her, give her a cheeky goodbye and run to the truck, much like he had done earlier. But this time, that dream was weighing on her again, and she didn’t know if it was just a fear, or a premonition.
“What’s eating ya?”
“Hmm?”
“I know when somethings bugging ya, so come on, let’s hear it.”
“It’s nothing,” she dismissed his prying, not sure how he’d react if she told him. “Silly, really.”
“Tell me, cause I ain't gonna be able to go up there knowing you’re down here upset over something.”
“I had a really strange dream last night…”
“Okay, well, I bet it’s not all that strange,” he softened at the expression on her face. “You wanna tell me about it?”
“It was like, I was watching my life in front of me, after the war. There was a house, and Everett, and…”
“And?”
“And a baby…”
“Gal, that ain’t anything to be so worried about! That sounds like a pretty good life to me!”
“It was… until you weren’t there.”
“I wasn’t?”
“No, at least, I don’t think so… Ev was talking to the baby, and I just remember that he said that I missed you a lot, and that sometimes I got sad.”
“Hey, if you’re worried that you and Blakely are gonna go and tie the knot and I ain’t gonna be around anymore, well, I got news for ya…”
“You better be around, Curt,” she turned to him, eyes filled with tears she was afraid to shed in front of him. “Nothing stupid up there, okay? I mean it!”
“I promise ya, I’m coming back.”
“I love you, you pain in the ass…”
“I love ya too…”
She pulled him close, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as she completely disregarded his gear, mae west, and jacket to hold her friend just a little longer. For once, Curt didn’t try and joke with her, or brush her off for being worried. The weight of this mission, the length of it, the time away, it had everyone a little on edge. So he hugged her back just as tight. The way he did when she had her heart broken back home, or when her Nonno passed away when they were teenagers; the way he always would for as long as they had each other.
“I wish you had let me braid you a new bracelet…” She mumbled into his neck.
“This one’s still good, I know it,” he gave her a gentle squeeze before pulling away to see her face. “Cause you made it, and it’s got all the eye-talian luck in the world.”
“My mother would crack you good for that.”
“What? Tying it back on, or saying Italian the way I did?”
“Both.” She laughed, wiping at her eyes.
“Hey, wipe those eyes, alright? I’ll be back before ya know it.”
“You better, because it takes too long to break in a new best friend.”
“You got that right gal…”
He hugged her one final time before stepping back, and with a wink, disappeared into the mist.
She sucked in a sharp breath as he walked away, only turning back towards the fort once she could no longer see him. Even the way he said goodbye had her feeling eerie. Christ, she hated this god damn soup. She tried to swipe at her eyes so no one would know she had been crying, but it was no use as Everett stood from his spot on the ground to meet her halfway.
“Okay?”
“Nope,” she admitted, knowing that he had seen her face and it would be useless to try and hide it from him. “But, I will be. I just…”
“You say goodbye?”
“It sounds so final.”
“It’s not,” he reassured her, hugging her against his side as he walked her back towards their friends. “It’s just temporary.”
“Yea, Africa and back.” She groaned.
“Come on, come sit.”
“Ev…”
“I’ve got a riddle? Would that cheer you up?”
“A riddle?”
“Yup!”
He takes his previous spot on the ground next to Doug, gently tugging her down until she’s sitting between his spread legs, her back to his front; the two of them fit snugly together like a puzzle piece. Just as he’s about to speak, Dougie raises a hand to stop him, gesturing to Croz who’s laying next to them, head propped up on his bag and briefcase, crush cap covering his face.
“Let him sleep!” Val hisses, knowing that he’d need his rest just as much as the rest of them, if not more with his airsickness.
“Nah.” Doug grinned wickedly before furiously tapping on the navigator's leg to wake him.
Croz grumbles and wakes with a light snort, his brow furrowed and face painted in annoyance as he spots Doug grinning next to him.
“What, Doug?”
“Ev’s gonna tell us a riddle!”
“You woke me up for a riddle?”
“I figured your brain could use the exercise.” Dougie teased him, the girls laughing as Crosby swatted at him.
“Alright, fine,” Harry sighed over dramatically. “Go on, Blakely, the floor is yours.”
Ev takes a drag from his Lucky Strike before beginning, clearing his throat and indulging in the dramatics for the sake of his audience before he speaks.
“You’re on the way to purgatory–”
“Purgatory?” Olive cuts him off, eyes wide.
“Yes, Maude, purgatory,” he nods. “You’re on the way to purgatory; one road goes to Valhalla, the other goes to Hell, damnation.”
“Uh huh?” Croz leans forward, his tired face now clouded with confusion and curiosity.
“On each of the roads, is a goblin-”
“A goblin?” Olive cuts in again, trying to stifle a giggle. “Ernest, where is this going?”
“If you’ll let me get through more than one line, English, you'll find out,” he sighs, making a face at her. “Anyway! One goblin always tells the truth, the other is a tricky little fucker, he always lies.”
“An imp!” Olive chuckles, catching Val’s eye.
“Birichino,” she offers up, winking at Ev. “That's what Ma calls Curt.”
“What’s the one question that you need to ask, that’s gonna tell you the right way to go?” Ev finished, pulled Val closer so he could rest his chin on her shoulder.
“Would you ask them which is the good goblin?” Olive turned to Ev after a moment of pondering.
“I was about to say that!” Croz crowed, frisbeeing his crush cap at her with a laugh.
“You snooze, you lose, Harry!” Olive grinned as she threw the cap back at him.
Val watched her friend's playful banter; Croz feigning injury at Olive’s throwing of his hat, while Dougie held her close and nuzzled into her for as long as he could. Behind her, Ev was laughing, his grip on her tight as he held her close and continued to soak up every moment he could on the ground with them.
“Okay, okay! I’ve got one!” Doug announced, grin wide as he caught Olive’s eye.
“You have a riddle?” Val raised her brow at him, her fingers fumbling in Ev’s pocket for his lighter as she placed a cigarette between her lips .
“Yup!”
“Well then, regale us with your riddle, Doug!” She grins, passing the now lit cigarette over to Olive.
“What's the difference between a hippo, and a–”
“And a zippo?” Ev finished with a laugh. “Dougie, we've heard that one a thousand times now, pal.”
Even though they’ve all heard the joke multiple times, Olive begins to giggle, which makes Doug smile.
“Yeah, but that’s why I tell it,” he grins. “To see the prettiest smile in East Anglia.”
“I love it,” Olive titters, reaching up to kiss him. “Never stop telling it, okay?”
“I know you do,” he winks, kissing her back just as lovingly. “And I love y–”
“Hey! That a flare?” Croz abruptly ends their sweet moment, his eyes narrowing as he tries to make sense of the blurry green light in the distance that's now plummeting to the ground.
“Time to go fellas.” Ev commands with a groan, his crew jumping up at his tone.
He stands, pulling Val with him, and immediately pulls her in and kisses her. They’re vaguely aware of his crew scrambling to get up and into the fort around them, shouts of men and the sound of gear being chucked into the belly of Just A Snappin as he held her for just a moment longer.
“Come home, please.” Val whispered as they broke for air, foreheads pressed together.
“Nothing could keep me from you,” he pressed his cheek to hers before his lips pressed to the shell of her ear. “When I get back…”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah… I’ll find us somewhere.”
“I love you, and not just because…”
“I know. I Love you too,” he pressed his lips to hers once more, her arms tightening around him until she’s sure she could hear his ribs clicking. “Now go, it’s going to get busy down here in a minute. And windy.”
Pulling away, she gave him one final squeeze before she joined Olive at the edge of the hardstand, the pair of them immediately gripping onto each other's hand, watching as Doug, and finally Everett, pulled themselves up and into the fort. It wasn’t until they could see Doug in the nose and Ev in the cockpit that they wavers before they began to walk back to the Clubmobile. Helen and Tattie were no doubt wondering where they were.
“You heard that, right?” Olive’s grasp on her hand tightening. “What Dougie said before the flare went up, you heard it?”
“Oh, I heard it, Val giggles, stopping and turning on the spot as the sound of Meatballs’ harness jingles in the distance before he joins them. “He loves you!”
“I didn't think–” Olive fumbles for the leash, grasping it finally and holding on tight.
“Olive Lewis!” She pulls on her friend's arm, the Brooklyn of her accent really adding an extra umph to Olive’s name. “I will give you a slap.”
“I'm not… I just…”
“We can all see how much he loves you and how much you love him too!” Val sighs. “You'd have to be blind to not notice it.”
“Are we really that obvious?”
“Limpido come il giorno.”
“In English, please.” Olive rolls her eyes.
“It’s as clear as day.” Val winks, continuing on with their walk.
—————————————————————-
By the time the girls returned to the truck, all the forts had gone up and Thorpe Abbotts was bathed in almost near silence. If you didn’t count Meatball barking as soon as he saw Helen and Tattie sitting outside. Helen is coughing over a cigarette again, while Tattie puffs away unbothered, Olive wasting no time in stomping over to Helen and snatching the cigarette from her.
“Would you stop!”
“I can’t seem to get the hang of it.” Helen sighs, not even fighting Olive.
“Then don’t, silly! You’re only making yourself sick!”
Helen is about to reply when the sound of a group approaching behind the Clubmobile get louder, and Rosie and his crew break through the fog, some of the men kidding with each other until they spot the four women. Nash immediately breaks away from his friends to join Helen, the brunette suddenly no longer worries about arguing with Olive over the cigarettes. Rosie stops by the truck, Tattie now inside as she peers down at him, while Pappy has gravitated to Olive, pulling Speas with him.
“Hiya boys!” Tattie calls down to them, cigarette in hand as she picks up what’s left of the morning’s donuts and brings them to the window. “Last few donuts are yours if you want them!”
“Thanks Tattie.” Rosie smiles up at her, shaking his head as he spots Nash already engaged in deep conversation with Helen.
Val is in the middle of listening to Pappy go on about how he’s already written to his mother to tell her about his long lost cousin, Olive, when Tattie yells from the window of the Clubmobile with a smile.
“Hey girls! Whaddya say we name this ole girl,” she pats the side of the truck. “A lot of other Clubmobiles in England are naming their trucks.”
“Yeah? Where’d you hear that, Tat?” Val yelled back.
“Got a copy of The Sinker,” she clarified, a newsletter that was put together by Red Cross gals for Red Cross gals. “A couple of the other Red Cross girls are naming their trucks, thought we should too!”
“What should we name it?” Helen turned from her conversation with Nash just as Val and Olive walked over to join them, Pappy and Speas right behind.
“What about something to do with the state you girls are from?” Pappy offered.
“Pappy, really?” Olive turned to him, arms folded over her chest. “I don’t have a state.”
“Oh, right…”
“Tat? Any suggestions?”
“Hmm, ‘Do-Nut Enter?”
“What about All Things Nice?” Helen offered with a shrug. “We’ve got the sugar on the donuts, Val’s the spice, we’re all things nice!”
“Why thank you Helen!”
“Olive, any ideas?” Helen turned to her just as she moved to give Meatball a little love, the husky whining in protest of Helen’s suggested name, his head lolled to the side as Olive got his favorite spot behind his ears.
“I got nothing,” she sighed. “My brain is fried.”
“That would be the lack of sleep,” Tattie fixed her with a look and a wink, the woman giving way to the fact that she knew Olive wasn’t sleeping well as of late. “I’ve got my eye on you, English.”
“I’ve got it! Something to do with Meatball!” Val exclaimed, eyes bright as the dog perked back up at the mention of his name. “Yes, you, you silly dog…”
“But what?” Olive looked between them, brows furrowed as she tried to come up with something.
“What about Spaghetti n’ Meatball!” Val grinned, eyes bright as she turned to survey her friends for their reaction.
“Oh, that’s precious!” Olive practically squealed, looking between everyone else. “Don’t you all think?”
“Spaghetti n’ Meatball it is.” Tattie grinned with a soft smile and a shake of her head, Helen readily agreeing with a bright smile.
They had corralled Kenny and Wink into helping them paint the side of the Clubmobile with the promise of hot coffee and a fresh batch of donuts. Billy and Sammy had followed them back to the truck when they found out that they were going to see Miss Val and Miss Olive, the promise of donuts making the two boys run at the speed of light. They had settled with Meatball almost immediately, the Husky basking in all the extra attention he was getting, while the boys got to work on painting the new name on their Clubmobile. The girls had sent Rosie and Pappy off in search of something that could be used as a ribbon- if we’re going to do it might as well do it right- while Nash had stayed glued to Helen’s side as she cleaned up inside the truck with Val.
“Miss Val?” she looked down and saw Sammy was looking up at her. Ev liked to tease her that little Sammy had a crush on her.
“Yes Sammy? How can I help you?” She grinned with a flourish, making sure that she paid him a little extra attention just to see him smile.
“Could we have another coffee like this morning, please?”
“More coffee, hmm?” She pretended to ponder it, looking around the inside of the truck to see if there was anything left for them, when she spotted a D bar off to the side, and some milk that would end up being tossed if it wasn’t finished. “How about I make you something else? Something better than coffee?”
“There’s something better than coffee?” Billy had joined him, abandoning his post next to Meatball.
“When I was your age, absolutely!”
“What is it?”
“Hot chocolate,” she winked, picking up the candy bar and waving it in front of her face. “Best thing in the world.”
“COOL!” They shouted, and she knew that they would take anything she made for them, simply because they loved her and the other girls so much.
So while Val set about warming the milk and making a treat for the boys, both of them dutifully back on either side of Meatball, Kenny came up to the truck. Wiping his hands on his coveralls, he snatched a donut from the tray on the window, popping it in his mouth with enough exaggerated flair that had Val shaking her head.
“Hey! You didn’t ask Miss Val!” Billy looked up at Ken.
“That’s alright, me and Miss Olive have an agreement.”
“What do you mean you have an agreement?” Val looked down at him as she ceased breaking apart the candy to mix with the warm milk. “Olive, what does he mean?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” she brushed her off. “Just Kenny being Kenny.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s nothing!”
“Okay, I’m sorry…”
The topic is quickly dropped as Helen and Tattie come back to the truck trailing what looks like toilet paper, mischief in their eyes, as Rosie and Pappy trailed behind them looking like the accomplices Val was positive they had been.
“We have a ribbon!”
“We have toilet paper…” Val laughed.
“It’s the best we could do.” Tattie laughed, her and Helen stretching it from one side of the truck to the other.
‘I feel like I committed treason…” Pappy shook his head, eyes downcast.
“I doubt you committed treason, Pappy,” Val laughed, coming out of the truck with the drinks for the boys, just as Chicky approached the Clubmobile. “If anything you got up to no good.”
“Alright girls, who’s twenty-two sheet ration did you take for this?” He drawls, cigar in hand as he gestures to the toilet paper ribbon.
“Yours, sir,” Tattie grins at him, knowing that he won’t say anything as she gives him a cheeky smile. “On three…”
Tattie gestures for Chicky to “cut the ribbon” on their official ceremony, but just as she gets to three and he reaches to rip the toilet roll, Meatball jumps up from where he’s been sitting and tears into the toilet paper, wrestling the sheets to the ground with a growl.
“Meatball!” Everyone groans, peals of laughter spilling out into the open as the husky looks terribly pleased with himself. Even Chicky gives the dog a laugh, the moment seeming to be just what they all need after the morning.
—————————————————
The Officers Club is practically empty, and it sends a chill through Val as she looks around the room. There’s a few men milling about, and the band is only a handful of men tonight, the music low and slow simply to fill the silence. Chicky and Red are off by the bar, the pair of them deep in conversation, as the girls take up their usual spot, Rosie and Pappy, Nash and Speas filling the seats that were usually occupied by Everett and Doug and the rest of their friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Rosie and his boys- quite the opposite as he filled her with this familiarity that only came with home- but she would have preferred that the four new faces filled in the gaps with the faces currently somewhere in Africa.
On top of all the anxiety and worry, Olive seemed to be on edge and she couldn’t pinpoint why. Granted, Doug being so far away and for more than their usual mission time was contributing to it, as she felt very similar with Everett being gone, but this was something else. This was something she wasn’t saying, and that worried her just as much as the boys being gone. Olive had gone pale before turning to face the boys at their table, the words seeming to confirm to Val that there was in fact, a secret.
“Fellas, sorry to be a buzzkill but, I need to talk to the girls,” the words are shaky, and if at all possible, Olive turns even paler. “Alone.”
“Sure thing, Miss Olive.” Rosie gives her a gentle smile, standing from his seat before gesturing for the other three men to follow him over to the bar. Pappy remains seated, arms crossed over his chest as he smiles at her, looking between Olive and the rest of the girls.
“You too, Cousin Pappy.”
“What? Why!” He protests, and Val can see Olive’s nerves turning into upset.
“Because, it’s private.” She starts, gently trying to get him to leave the table.
“But, we’re family!”
“It’s girl stuff!” The words come out harsh, and Val sees the moment Olive realizes it, a deep sigh leaving the girl as she pinches two fingers at the bridge of her nose.
“Say no more…” He grimaces, the thought of that alone enough to send him running for the bar and away from the table of women.
“Okay, are you going to tell us what’s bothering you?” Tattie lights a cigarette but never falters in fixing Olive with that concerned look that seems to come second nature to her. “You’ve been off all day.”
“Well, it’s just uhh…”
“Is it the mission? The boys being away for longer than usual? I know this is a few days, and the first time you’ve really worried but-” Olive cuts her off with a shake of her head, the curls Val had pinned for her earlier bouncing vigorously
“No, it’s not the mission,” she gasps, unable to catch her breath before speaking again. “There’s something–oh, Jesus Christ…”
“Something, what?” Helen leans across the table, eyes wide.
“I need to tell you something about me, about my life, and I’m worried - terrified - that you all won’t believe me.”
“We’ve heard it all, Ol,” Helen laughs, sipping her cocktail.
“Oh, I doubt you’ve heard this, Helen.”
“Christ sake!” Val yells, gently kicking Olive’s shin. “Spit it out, English!”
“Right, well,” with a deep breath, she turns to Tattie, giving the woman her full attention. “Tattie, you remember how I, quote, appeared suddenly?”
“Yes, out of thin air apparently.”
“It’s because I was on the hardstand that day. Because I fell out of a fort.”
“What were you doing in a fort, Ol?” Helen places her drink down, her brow softly furrowed in confusion.
The girls watch as Olive takes a deep breath in, her face riddle with fear as the next sentence falls from her lips.
“I was in a fort because that’s how I got here,” she whispered, wringing her hands together. “I’m not from here, from this time.”
“W-what?” Val feels the confusion begin to fill her, and something else she can’t quite place bubbling beneath the surface. “What do you mean you’re not…”
“I’m from the future,” Olive whispers again, her eyes falling to her hands. “I’m from the year two thousand and twenty one.”
“Excuse me?” Val balks, green eyes wide.
“In my time, I climbed into a model fort because I thought I heard a dog barking for help in there and I fell out, here.”
“Olive–” Helen is staring at her in awe, unsure of what else to say, while Tattie simply watches as what appears to be a weight the size of a B-17 falls from Olive’s shoulders.
“Does anyone else know?” Val demands, and for the first time, she sees Olive shrink back from her, the worry only growing.
“Kenny, and now Benny.” Olive nods, her gaze never leaving her hands.
“Before me?!” Val cries, and that something else she had felt bubbling beneath the surface reveals itself to be sadness. “I thought we were friends, Olive.”
“We are!” she yells in response as Val stands, tears filling her green eyes, and marches towards the door. “I didn’t know what else to do!”
She’s vaguely aware of Tattie quietly telling Olive not to follow her as she breeches the door and meets the cool night air. The sounds of the club fall silent as the door shuts behind her and she continues on until she reaches the Red Cross hut. There’s no one to walk her back, and almost no one milling about outside to stop and talk to, which gets her back faster than normal. When she’s inside, the door shut, it dawns on her that for the first time all day, she’s alone.
“Sorry Meatball…”
The husky is curled up on her bed, head on his paws as he looks up at her, immediately sensing that something isn’t right with one of his girls. He lets out a whine as she drops down onto the bed to curl up with him, her hands burying themselves in his fur just to stay busy while she tries to stave off the tears she knows are trying to fight their way out. How could Kenny and Benny come before her? Before Dougie, even? And how true was it all really? The future… it didn’t seem possible and yet, something in her gut told her that Olive wasn’t lying about it. It was the part that made the least amount of sense, and should have had her more angry than she was, wanting answers and explanations, but it didn’t matter now. What mattered was that Val had thought for the first time she had a best friend that wasn’t, well, Curtis Biddick. Another girl she could confide her deepest secrets and dreams with, gush over her boyfriend with, but the world hadn’t seen fit to that. It had been made perfectly clear to her that Olive felt different than she did, if Val hadn’t been privy to one of her secrets, when she had divulged one of her biggest to her not even 48 hours prior.
“Can I come in?” Olive’s head comes around the door frame, her knuckles gently rapping against the doorframe even as she opens it. .
“It’s a free country.” Val’s tone is sulky, voice muffled as she presses her face into Meatball’s fur. She catches Olive’s hesitation before she decidedly sits on the bed across from hers.
“I’m sorry,” Olive’s just as quiet as she is. “I wanted to tell you, I just–”
“Just what?” Val snaps, sitting up to finally look at her properly, Olive’s eyes filled with tears much like her own. “Decided to tell Kenny and DeMarco before I even got a look in?”
“I didn’t tell them, Val. They caught me.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Kenny caught me one night and I couldn’t lie to him,” she sighed. “Truth be told, I’d had one too many that night and didn’t have my wits about me.”
“What about DeMarco?”
“Meatball gave me away this morning when I was coming back,” Meatball huffs indignantly at the mention of his name in a negative manner, Olive and Val rolling their eyes at him. “Yes, I’m talking about you, silly dog.”
“So you did want to tell me,..”
“More than anything, but I just couldn’t figure out how!”
“So why now all of a sudden,” Val leans over to pull a tissue from her side table, dabbing at her eyes as she continues to seek answers. “Why do this when we’re all so riddled with nerves over this mission?”
“It was getting too risky. There were so many things today that almost gave me up, and I was really starting to feel terrible about lying to everyone.”
“Mhmm…”
“Especially you, Val. You’re my person.”
“I assumed that would be Dougie.” Val’s tone is snarky, but the smile that stretches across her face tells Olive that maybe, just maybe, this is all going to be okay.
“Romantically, he’s my man. But you…” Olive grins brightly at her. “This shit is for life.”
“Best friends?” Val sounds hopeful, the tears finally dry and she thinks that, yes, she hasn’t lost this sweet part of her life.
“Forever.” Olive beams, reaching across to the bunk and taking Val’s hand in hers.
“You know, you’re the first best friend I’ve had that isn’t Curt, and I got scared that maybe it was all too good to be true and you didn’t want to be my friend because I’m too crass or loud, or difficult.”
“Who the hell ever said that about you!” Olive crowed.
“Olive…”
“Oh Val, what did that man do to you hmm?”
Olive sighed, knowing that the version of Val they all got on a daily basis was clouded with self conscious fear of being too much as she was once dubbed, by someone she had thought to care about her.
“I’m sorry for being such a big baby,” she sniffs, shaking her head at her own annoyance. “I just don’t like being left out. And when it came from you, I felt like…well… sad.”
“Does anybody, chicken?” Olive laughs to try and lighten the mood. “Wait, you believe me?”
“Yes, I believe you,” Val nods along with her words, catching Olive’s eyes widened at her confession. “It makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Your hair, nails never done, makeup needing fixing-”
“Yes yes, Helen already ate me up about all that.”
“Ate you up?” A snort leaves Val, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as Olive giggles at the sound.
“Chewed me up and spat me right out!”
“Oh that’s excellent, I love it! Not that she, ‘ate you up’, no the expression! I’ll be stealing that, English.”
“I thought you might like that one.”
It’s a quiet, comfortable silence, the hut filled with only the sound of Meatball’s light snores, as the girls take stock of everything that had unfolded in under an hour. The day itself, the anxiety, their boys somewhere terribly far away as they hoped that they had made it safely, and would return safely. Secrets aired and confessions laid bare as friendships were put to the test. Olive and Val both worried if they would be able to see through to the other side, and yet, it seemed nothing could keep the two women from sticking together through dark days and blue skies.
“Any more secrets you’d like to tell me?” Val squinted at her playfully. “We may as well get it all out in the open now.”
“There’s nothing much to tell, really. Dead dad, abandoned by my mum and raised by Pearl.”
“Oh Ol… me too. The first part.”
“Really?”
“Yes, he passed away when I was very little. I don’t even remember him.”
Was that a blessing, that she didn’t have memories to be twisted painfully? Or was it more painful to not have those memories? She’d never truly be able to decide which side of the coin was easier to deal with.
“I’m so sorry honey,” Olive sighed, and Val knew exactly how she felt. “It’s not a fun club to be a member of, is it.”
“Club?”
“Yes, the dead dad club. I got my badge when I was thirteen.”
“It was always me, mama and Nonna. And then, Curt and Mama Biddick seemed to just fall into place as part of our family.”
“I only ever had Pearl, after. My mum didn’t take it well at all but then, who would?” Val watches as Olive pulls a dainty gold locket from her shirt, gently opening, keeping the two halves closed, it before looking up at her again. “Would you like to see him?”
“I’d be honored.” Val grinned, coming from her bed to perch next to her friend.
Val watches closely as Olive carefully opens the locket to reveal a small, heart shaped photo inside. She’s momentarily stunned by the color photo, but her eyes seem to soften as she takes in the image of the man holding a who she already knows is baby Olive. He looks proud, and positively in love with the small girl in his arms, and suddenly, she realizes that neither side of the coin is easier to deal with. Loss with or without knowing, is still loss, and it still stings something fierce.
“You look just like him, chickie. The same eyes,” she glances up at Olive with a bright smile. “Wow! That’s your dad.”
“That’s my dad. My Papa,” Olive breathes on a smile, closing the locket once more and keeping the man inside safe. “He was a sweetheart.”
“Do you think he’d approve of Dougie?”
“Without a doubt!” She grinned brightly “Both of them have the same silly sense of humor. I’m beginning to think James has a hotline to heaven with those jokes of his.”
“And this? You, here with us?”
“I think he would, yes. I think he’d just be happy to see me happy.”
“That’s good…”
“It all scares me silly, Val,” her voice wavered, not unlike the way it had earlier in the club. “He’s gone, and once Pearl goes, I’m all alone.”
“That’s twice today you’ve made me want to smack you,” Val scolds, wrapping her arms around her in a hug that takes Olive no time to reciprocate. “You are far from alone, Olive Lewis, who fell out of the sky and into my life. You will always have me, and our little family.”
“You’re not just blowing smoke up my arse?”
“Would I ever?” Val raises an eyebrow at her in challenge, and Olive immediately laughs at how silly she looks.
“Come on,” Olive suggests, pulling Val up off the bed. “We’d better get back.”
“We left Helen and Tat with those boys didn’t we…”
“We did,” Olive laughs. “Besides, I have something to show you.”
She’s digging in her bag when the door to the hut swings open, Helen and Tattie appearing with smiles on their faces and rosy cheeks. It’s Tattie who looks to have indulged just a bit more than she usually does, leaning on Helen as they enter the hut together.
“What on earth is that thing?” Tattie laughs, pointing at the object Olive had been digging in her purse for.
“Sorry, we wanted to check on you both.” Helen explains, sitting Tattie down on her bed.
“Yeah, the conversation with Rosie and the boys was less than riveting after a while. Ha! Riveting! Get it?”
“Oh Tattie…” Val laughs, coming to sit beside her, pulling her into a one armed hug. “Please don’t ever change, okay?”
“Why would I- hey, what’s that in your hand, English?” The words are slightly slurred, and suddenly all eyes are on Olive.
“What the fuck is that!” Helen exclaims, pointing at the object now sitting in Olive’s open palm. “Olive!”
“This is my proof.” She smiles, hand outstretched so that the other girls could see just what she was holding.
It’s a thin rectangle, shiny, and Olive seems to be taking great care with it. There’s nothing to give away what it might be, but then Olive slides her finger up the front and it lights up, all three girls screaming as if it might bite them right on the nose.
“What is it!” Val looks wild eyed and unsure.
“It’s a phone,” Olive explains. “Or as Lemmons likes to call it, a doo-hicke.”
“But there’s no wire! Or buttons!” Helen exclaims, her total soft nature just a bit more emboldened by the alcohol and the mood.
“Well, they don’t make them with buttons or wires anymore in the future.”
“No shit!” Tattie laughs.
“I can’t do much with it here but, I can play some music, and take pictures.”
“Pictures on a telephone?” Val shouts, finally standing and grabbing it from Olive in a flurry. “Let me see!”
Olive taps a button, and the screen suddenly changes, and all at once Val is face to face with herself and Olive looking back at her in the small screen.
“Look, it’s us!”
“Oh my god…” Val whispers, turning her head this way and that, the image never faltering, like a mirror. “B-but, how?”
“Magic.” Olive replies.
“Magic…wow!” Tattie smiles from the bed, watching as Olive shows Val the mysterious phone.
“Take our picture!” Val demands suddenly.
“Shit, alright, calm down there DiRosano.”
Olive holds the phone out in front of her, and quickly snaps a picture, laughing at the shocked look on Val’s face as the end result reveals itself to them.
“Oh no, that’s terrible and now you wasted film!”
“There’s no film,” Olive grins, showing Val as she clicks what looks like a small trash can and the photo is gone. “It’s… well, technology is complicated.”
“No film?!”
“None. Here, let’s try again.”
“Okay…”
“Smile pretty, like Ev is looking at you.” Olive teases, and just as she suspected, Val falls into a fit of giggles beside her just as she snaps the photo.
“Well, would you look at that!” Olive proudly shows Val the photo, and her green eyes go wide as she inspects it.
Side by side, laughing together. Just as Val had hoped their friendship would be.
“That’s…oh wow! Olive!”
“Right? Pretty cool!”
“Can we try?” Helen pipes up from where she’s perched next to Tattie.
“Yes, of course!”
And so Olive spends the next hour taking photos of her friends and showing them how to use the camera for themselves. Val is adamant that if everyone on base knew about this, that poor Joe would be out of a job in the officers club each night, but the four girls have sworn to each other not to breathe a word of this to anyone who doesn’t already know.
“How about some music?”
“Let me guess, there’s a teeny tiny Victorla in there?” Val laughs.
“No, it’s, again, complicated.” Olive giggles, picking up a spare glass that’s on the vanity and sitting the phone inside of it.
“A glass?”
“Helps it sound better.”
“Okay then… show us more magic then, English!”
“Yes ma’am Miss Tattie!” Olive mock salutes as she taps on the screen again.
It’s unlike anything Val has ever heard, and yet, she can’t find it in herself to stop bouncing around at all the different songs that Olive plays for them. It’s loud, and some of it is a little harsh, but she kind of likes it.
“You’ll like this singer, Val. Her name is Madonna.”
“Like, La Madonna the Virgin Mary?”
“Yes, like that.”
“Jesus Christ… what an odd name to give your child!”
“It’s not her real name, it’s more of a stage name.”
“Still!”
And then she’s dancing around the hut again, and Olive is singing the words along with the song as she takes her hands and they dance together. Its girlhood at its absolute purest and neither of them can even be bothered to care about how their curls are coming undone and their uniforms are getting wrinkled. They’re simply happy.
“What do you think Ev will like?” Val asks later, quietly curled up next to Olive on one of the bunks.
“I’ll bring some of my dads old vinyls from Pearl’s on my next visit back, and we’ll find out!” Olive grins.
“Do you think they’re okay?”
“Ev and Doug? Yea, I do…” Olive sighs, giving Val’s hand a squeeze.
“All of them…”
“Yea, all of them.”
They’re interrupted by a soft snore coming from the other side of the room, Tattie knocked out in her uniform. Helen gently covers her with a blanket, her shoes long since discarded, and with a giggle, holds a finger to her lips to get everyone to shush.
“She’s on to something,” Olive yawns. “I’m knackered.”
“Nah-kurred!” Both Val and Helen tease quietly, Val poking Olive softly on the nose.
“Oh leave it, Yanks!”
“Oooh, she’s getting bold!”
“Yes, now that I know we’re all four of us stuck together forever, I can be myself.”
“Good,” Val says, planting a kiss on her cheek as she stands up and moves to her own bunk. “I don’t want to see anymore funny business from you.”
“Ma’am yes ma’am!” Olive gives her a sloppy two finger salute, much the same way that Doug always does.
“You look like Dougie when you do that.” Helen giggled, her pajamas now on as she shuffles beneath her blankets.
“Off to dream of Jimmy Stewart again, Hel?”
“Yes,” she yawns. “Maybe this time Val won’t wake me before I get my big kiss.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Val gets into her own pajamas just as Olive does the same, leaving a soft kiss to the dog tag that bears Everett’s name before taking her rosary into her hands and saying a quick prayer before bed. Just before she turns the lights out, she catches Olive pulling Dougie’s jacket from the end of the bed and put it on over her sleep clothes. She watches as the sweet English girl who fell from the sky presses her nose into the collar. Depositing her rosary, Val picks up the phone carefully and, following Olive’s earlier instructions, takes a quick photo of her curled into James Douglass’ jacket before switching the lights off.
“I love you, DiRosano” Olive whispers, sleep slurring her words.
“Love you more, English.” Val grins.
Silently, she says goodnight to Everett, hoping her words and her prayers reach him safely in Africa. That he returns home soon, with his crew and their friends intact. That Curt had kept his promise of not doing anything stupid, and that they’d all be together soon. There was a lot to catch up on.
Part Eight
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!
Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part SIx
Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)
Something big is brewing, and The Brass is keeping their cards close to their chest. The Red Cross girls are forced to navigate through the murky waters of changes on base, revelations, new faces and chance meetings. Val is forced to face feelings from the past that rear their ugly head in the face of something beautiful, but she is determined not to let the past get in the way of her future.
Part Five
Follow along with the Eight To the Bar Playlist
Sleep. More often than not, it was restless, and usually cut short due to obligations. This time, it was simply because no one had wanted to go to bed. After a week of restlessness and arguing, finally, they had all found peace. Olive and Doug had made up, and Douglass had finally understood what everyone had been trying to tell him all along- Olive only cared for him. While Val had been nothing short of thrilled that her best friends had finally gotten past their troubles and become a couple, what had made her exponentially happy was knowing that her and Everett had not pushed themselves so far in defending their friends that they ruined their own relationship. Benny had made up with Dougie, the two reaching an understanding that Benny was now to Olive what Curt was to Val- a brother. Curt had spent the entire walk back to the huts from the hardstand bellowing how he had the best night ever, and it had been funny, until BED. ALL OF YOU had come blasting over the tannoy and Red Bowman had sent them all to their respective racks.
Now, as Val woke feeling as refreshed as one can be for getting to bed as the sun came up, she was determined to make the most of a day that didn’t include fighting or disagreements. Olive, it seemed, was already up and out of the hut along with Tattie. Helen was still somewhere in dreamland, even as the clock slowly approached nine. Sitting up in her bed, Val called over to Helen softly, hoping it would be enough to rouse the woman from her sleep.
“Helen, doll, it's almost nine.”
“Hmm, that’s nice…”
“Helen, we have to start getting up and out to the truck.”
“Bring the truck here….” She mumbled, face still pressed into her pillow.
“Christ sake,” Val stood from her bed, bare feet padding over to Helen’s bed. “Helen, come on chickie, time to get up.”
“But we just went to bed…” She groaned, prying one eye open and looking up at Val.
“I know, but we can turn in early tonight, yea?”
“Yea, okay,” She sighed, sitting up and meeting Val’s equally tired gaze full on. “Those two early birds are already at the truck?”
“Yes, now let’s put a little pep in our step before Tattie comes round, okay?”
Nodding, Helen let Val pull her from the warmth of her blankets before the pair of them began getting ready for the day.
Val and Helen had gotten themselves cleaned up and into their jumpsuits in record time. Helen resolved to finish pinning her hair under her scarf on the walk over to the truck while Val blindly applied her lipstick mid stride. By the time they reached Olive and Tattie, the truck was set up and both girls were enjoying a cup of coffee while tossing the ball with Meatball. Demarco must have been up and at it early if he’d relinquished his best pal to the girls before the day really got going.
“Good morning boy, hi!” Val looked over at the husky who was panting, ball in mouth, and staring up at her with big blue eyes. “Did you have a nice snooze?”
“He snoozed more than any of us, that’s for sure.” Helen rolled her eyes with a smile.
“When I checked last night, you were snoozing on top of Dickie.” Olive pointed at her with a cheeky smile.
“He was closest,” Helen grumbled. “And Tattie took the dog.”
“Surprised Benny didn’t put up more of a fight for him honestly.”
At the mention of his owner, Meatball promptly dropped the ball to the ground and let out a loud howl. Maybe Cleven was right and he was part wolf.
“Okay, Meatball, shhh.” Olive crouched down to ruffle the fur between his ears, the dog mistaking her affection for playtime and jumping up onto her.
“Oh, Meatball!” Val laughed, unable to pull him off of Olive as he continued to pounce and lick at her face.
“Wow, and here I thought I was the only fella who got to smother you in kisses!” Dougie’s voice rang out as he walked up the path to the Clubmobile, smirk on his lips and pep in his step.
“Fella, yes,” Olive looked up at him from her place on the ground. “He’s not a fella, he’s a Meatball.”
“Well, then he’s the only Meatball who gets to smother you in kisses.” Doug approached the dog, gently tugging at his collar to get him off of Olive, promptly handing him off to Ev, who had joined him in his quest for coffee.
“Did anyone get any sleep last night?” Dougie questioned the group, looking at the exhausted faces of his friends as he helped Olive off the ground.
“Barely,” Val sighed, moving to snuggle into Everett’s side. “I can’t remember the last time I stayed out all night like that.”
“Had to be sometime before the war…” Ev sighed, placing a kiss to the top of her head.
“Somehow it always involves Curt.” Val groaned, her back turned to the path, she didn’t see the man in question approaching.
“Speak of the devil.”
Tattie gestured behind Val, causing Ev to turn them both to see Curt coming towards them, bright eyed and bushy tailed.
“Morning yous guys!” He beamed, voice booming as he took up the spot on Val’s other side.
“Shh, too loud.” Helen scolded him.
“Who’s too loud? Meatball? Yea I heard em all the way across the field!”
“Curt…” Val warned, sending him a glare.
“The gal’s grouchy this morning, Blakely.” He mumbled, cigarette now wedged between his lips as he pulled out his lighted.
“Biddick,” Ev looked over at him. “Shut up.”
“Can I at least have a coffee?” He looked at the four girls, trying to figure out which one was most likely to concede.
“Fine, come on, you perky son of a bitch.” Tattie gestured to the truck, leaving Curt out by the hatch as she rounded the back to go inside.
“Thanks, Tat,” He grinned. “Oh, Val, Harding’s looking for ya, he’s in the glass house.”
“You should have led with that, Curt…”
“Yea, sorry about that, I got distracted.”
“Christ sake, okay,” She pried herself out from Everett’s arm and headed for the truck, the pilot still clutching Meatball’s harness in the other hand. “Might as well bring some coffee up for the boys.”
“I’ll walk you,” Ev called over to her. “I needed to talk to Kidd anyway.”
“Thank you honey,” She poked her head out of the truck, now inside putting together a tray of coffee and some donuts for the boys in Operations. “You can help me carry this.”
“Here Curt, you’re on Meatball duty till Benny gets back.” Everett handed off the leash to Curt, moving to the window of the truck to take what Val was passing down to him.
With his hands full, he stood waiting for Valencia to exit the truck. Her own hands full, the pair began their walk towards Operations. They bid their friends goodbye over their shoulders, and began a leisurely walk over towards the control tower. Val was balancing a tray of coffee while Everett dutifully carried a tray with donuts. While some men might have balked at doing something so domestic, he welcomed the moment with Val by his side.
“What’s going on with Jack,” She glanced over at him before looking back towards the path they were walking. “Anything I should be worried about?”
“Honestly, can’t say for certain,” He dropped a sigh before continuing. “Could be anything from a switch in my crew to wanting to go up and practice.”
“Why could he possibly want to switch out of your crew?”
“There’s replacements coming in...”
“When?”
“Not sure, which might be what Harding wants to see you about.”
“The hell am I supposed to do with replacements?”
“Welcome them with open arms the way you welcomed me, sweetheart.” He grinned, offering her a wink as they came to a stop outside the Control Tower.
“They’re hardly getting a wink and a smile,” She sighed, shaking her head as he pulled open the door for her. “And my dance card is full, Captain Blakely.”
“Ooh, haven’t heard that one in a while.” He let out a low laugh, careful not to make too much noise now that they were inside.
The center of the Control Tower, ground level, wasn’t brightly lit. It was bathed in an almost orange glow, and was made up of small offices inside around the perimeter. The center of the room, The Pit, as Red sometimes referred to it, held one big table in the middle adorned with maps, and had floor to ceiling chalkboards on either side of it. Each chalkboard ran the list of every plane within the 100th. All of the forts, their tail numbers and corresponding names and the lead pilot. You could see where someone’s fort had been erased- the names of those who went down or were MIA, simply erased from Thorpe Abbotts. Val realized if she allowed herself to look at it for too long, the worry of Everett’s name, or Curt’s being erased from the board would begin to sink in. Instead, she chose to focus on Chick Harding, who was standing next to Jack Kidd, hands on his narrow hips and cigar wedged between his lips.
“G’morning Chicky,” She approached with a smile, the coffee still piping hot on the tray. “Jack.”
“Valencia…”
“Brought you boys some coffee and Ev’s got the donuts.”
“Blakely, did you join the Red Cross and forget to tell us?” Harding barked out a laugh, the smoke from his stogie billowing up around him.
“Helping Val, Colonel,” Everett placed the other tray down next to where Val had placed the coffees. “She’s only got two hands and I was already headed to see the Major.”
“Ah I’m just joking with you,” Harding slapped a hand down over Blakely’s shoulder before picking up one of the coffees. “I’m sure she appreciates the extra hand, don’t ya Valencia.”
“Oh, I always do.” She smiled, looking over her shoulder at Ev and giving him a wink before turning back to Harding.
“Alright, well, grab yourself a coffee and come with me.” Harding turned and began walking towards the big table in the center of the room, Val following closely behind him.
With a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw Ev disappear into one of the offices with Jack, the pair of them talking quietly before Kidd shut the door behind him. Attention again on following Colonel Harding, he stopped suddenly, turning to face her, eyebrows raised and cigar pinched between two fingers.
“Gotta wait for Red,” He nodded. “Did you get yourself a coffee?”
“Oh, no…”
“Go on then I know you were all up with the sun this morning.” He looked at her with a brow raised, smirk painting his lips.
“More or less,” She mumbled, turning and hurrying back to where she left the coffee. “Did you eat anything this morning, Chicky?”
“I’ll take a donut as long as Demarco’s dog ain’t get near them.”
“They’re Meatball free, grouchy.” She rolled her eyes as she handed it over to him, hearing the beginning of a scoff coming from him, before someone clearing their throat interrupted him.
Red Bowman appeared in front of them, arms folded across his chest, eyebrow raised in amusement at the banter between the pair of them.
“She’s got your number, Chick,” Red’s thick New England accent was light, a bit more jovial than Chick was in the mornings. “Morning Miss Val, thank you for the coffee.”
“Morning Red, and you’re quite welcome.”
“Are you two done torturing me?” Harding scoffed, gesturing with his hand that held the donut to the folders in front of him at the table.
“Go on then,” Bowman nodded, plucking a coffee from the tray. “I’m sure she’s wondering why you needed her if it’s not to type up your reports.”
“No reports?” Val looked between the two men, brows creased.
“We’ve got replacement crews coming in,” Harding started, gesturing to the folders and piles of paperwork scattered around the table. “Fellas are going to need a warm welcome, and I thought you and Helen might be willing to set up the Interrogation hut.”
“You want coffee and whiskey then?”
“That and if you can spare some of the sweets from the Clubmobile,” Red added.
“A hershey bar or two, sure,” She nodded. “But my dance card is full, gentlemen.”
“Wasn’t asking you to give Blakely the boot for a replacement,” Harding laughed. “I’m not blind, Valencia, I know what’s going on there.”
“Out till the sun came up,” Red shook his head in a laugh. “And still up and doing her job.”
“Well, someone has to caffeinate you boys. And feed you, too, it seems.”
“So you’ll be there to welcome the new boys?”
“I’ll talk to Helen when I get back to the truck,” Val nodded in agreement. “When do they get here?”
“Noon.”
“Noon, today!”
“Yes, Valencia, noon today.” Chick drawled, exhaling from his cigar.
“Christ, Chicky, a bit last minute don’t you think?”
“We found out last night.” Red interjected, watching as the furrow on her face turned deeper with each passing second.
“Well, then I need to get back,” Val nodded, bidding a farewell to both the men, swiping a donut off the tray she had left for them. “And pray that Helen is still standing when I get there.”
She didn’t see Red and Harding chuckling at her as her back was turned, both men fully aware that she’d get the job done despite the small window to do it. She also missed the door to Jack’s office opening as Everett exited, his own brow starting to look like his girlfriends.
“We’ll get it done, Blakely,” Jack murmured from behind him. “I know we will.”
“Yeah… we know when these crews are coming in?”
“Today, 1200 hours,” Jack sighed. “Harding has Val setting up interrogation for them.”
“New fellas are gonna love that,” Everett chuckled, the irony of the new crew’s being greeted by a pretty Red Cross girl not lost on him. “She’s gonna give those boys hell.”
“She already gives all of us hell.” Jack cracked a smile, his usually tough exterior slipping as he extended his hand for Blakely.
“Almost all of us.” Shaking Jack’s hand, the two pilots shared a knowing look before Ev turned to leave the Control Tower. “I’m in the clear.”
————————————
“Tell me again,” Helen groaned, twisting the top off the whiskey bottle. “Why Harding doesn’t want all of us?”
“I wish I knew,” Val sighed, shuffling past Helen with a tray of donuts wedged against her hip. “He just asked for me and you to be here.”
“Knowing Chicky, he doesn’t want Meatball in here jumping all over everyone.”
“The Hundredth’s mascot, banned from the welcoming committee. What a sin.”
At the mention of the husky, both girls could hear him barking and howling from across the field by the Clubmobile. Sticking her head out the door, Val could see Demarco making his way over to them, Meatball pulling and tugging at his leash excitedly at his owner returning.
“Benny’s back,” She turned to Helen who was lining up the glasses, pouring two fingers worth of whiskey into each of them. “And heading our way.”
“So much for keeping Meatball out of here.” Helen chuckled.
“Hey! You girls need a hand?” Benny stuck his head inside the door, Meatball immediately trying to get inside.
“Hi,” Helen turned, chucking the empty whiskey bottle into the trash before moving to the coffee cups. “We’re good, but, shouldn’t you be getting the racks ready with the rest of the fellas for the new guys?”
“To be honest, Helen, I’m not exactly bursting at the seams to meet the new kids.”
His face said what he wasn’t, or couldn’t, about the men coming in. They would be filling the empty racks of those who hadn’t made it back; friends that were lost, or dead, and the original boys were reluctant to get too close. Nobody wanted to lose any more friends than they already had. It had been two months since the original crews flew in from Greenland, thirty-five crews had landed that day and Val had been in this exact same spot welcoming the boys who would become her friends to Thorpe Abbotts with a whiskey and a smile. She’d do the same today, but would these boys be here long enough to become friends? God, she hoped so, that for their sake they wouldn’t go up into the clouds with high hopes and never see the ground below again.
“You girls sure you don’t need help?” He was procrastinating going back to his rack.
“Leave Meatball with Olive and Tattie,” Val gestured back to the Clubmobile. “The new boys should at least be able to have a snack without his hair all over it.”
“Alright,” He nodded. “What do you need me to do?”
“There’s an urn with coffee on the truck. It’s full, and needs two people to bring it over here.”
“I can grab it.” Benny nodded, moving to bring Meatball back to the truck.
“Benny you need two people, trust me,” Val followed him outside. “It’s also piping hot.”
John Brady was at the window as the pair of them approached, chatting animatedly with Olive about Shakespeare and his sweetheart back home, Juliet. The two girls had become quick penpals, and Brady had taken to including Olive’s letters with his so that nothing got lost in the mail. Whenever Brady had a spare moment, him and Olive would indulge each other in conversation. It was easy to see that John Brady’s favorite thing to talk about was Juliet. Val found it quite sweet, that the usually stoic, pipe smoking saxophone player softened at the mere mention of her name.
“Hey Brady,” Val nudged his shoulder with hers as she passed. “How’s Juliet?”
“Jules is good, thanks for asking Val,” He grinned as Olive handed him a pack of gum. “Her birthday’s coming up soon.”
“Well, make sure you send her a wish from me.”
“I will. I tell her all about you girls, and if I don’t, I know Olive does.”
“Good,” Val nodded, taking Benny by the elbow once he returned from tying Meatball back up by the girls. “One day I’d like to meet the girl who makes John Brady all starry eyed.”
With a wink, Val and Benny made their way into the back of the Clubmobile to collect the urn and take it back to the hut. There was a second urn already in use by Olive and Tattie, the girls taking coffee from that one for the boys that passed by.
“Handles on the side, Ben,” Val directed him to one side while she settled on the other. “On three.”
“Uno, dùe, trè?”
“Yes,” She laughed, waiting for him to count off in Italian. “Ready?”
“Let’s do it…”
On his count, the pair of them lifted the urn and began moving to exit the truck, Benny taking the stairs backwards while Val guided him down one at a time. Once on the grass, they walked side by side, the urn between them, back towards the hut. They moved quickly, silently, and once inside, Helen was making space for them to put it down on one of the tables. She’d set the cups out on one side of the table, enough sugar to get by before the next delivery of rations came in, and milk that the local farmers graciously brought to base every few days. All that was missing was the men filling the room, nervous and excited energy of their flight in and what was to come. The prospect of the fight ahead glimmering in their eyes.
“You girls all set?”
“All set, Benny,” Val smiled. “Thanks for the help.”
“Any time cugine,” He winked.
“What did you just call her!?” Helen balked.
“Cugine,” Benny laughed. “It means cousin but not really a cousin.”
“Right, like we think of each other as family but there’s no bloodline.” Val explained.
“Italians have a word for everything!”
“Here’s another one,” Val turned back to Benny just as she caught Chicky and Red coming towards the hut. “Vai.”
Go.
“And I’m gone.” Benny grinned, scooting out the door and jogging across to the Clubmobile to pick up Meatball.
The Interrogation hut was busy in almost no time at all. Almost as soon as Harding and Red had joined the two girls, the sound of B-17 engines overtook the entire air base. Jack Kidd was out on the hardstands with the two Majors, getting the new fellas into trucks, speeding off towards Interrogation where Red and Chick would do their part in making sure each fort arrived safely and without issue. Val and Helen were there to greet them with a smile and a warm cup of coffee, or something stronger for those who preferred it.
They all looked so fresh faced as they entered the hut, and Val could see the excitement in some of them. Young boys ready to fight, who if she had to guess, didn’t even know just how bad it was up there. In retrospect, neither did any of the original boys when they first got here, and she remembered the vacant look on Gale Cleven’s face the afternoon they had returned from Bremen. The shock and fear that had full body encompassed the man as he tried to explain what had happened up there. The whiskey he declined, that Egan had promptly poured into his coffee, the noise in the back of the hut he had walked into, choosing to let Curt do all the talking for him. How many of these new faces would look the same in the coming days, weeks, months. How many of them would she even see return?
She had just turned to pour more coffee when a crew entered the room, the pilot looking every bit the part. Dark curls tamed with pomade, bright blue eyes and a mustache- no lucky strike. He was a handsome fella, and offered her a kind smile in return of her own as she offered up a choice of refreshments.
“Coffee or whiskey, Lieutenant?” She smiled, holding one of each in either hand.
“Coffee, please, ma’am.” He nodded politely, and Val clocked an accent that she had only heard from one other person on base. This man was from home. Her home.
“Here you go.” She handed him the cup, ready to move on to the next man in his crew, a shorter man, young but sporting a bald spot under his crush cap. She assumed he was the Co-Pilot, and he was eyeing up the whiskey.
“Thank you, Miss…”
“Val,” She nodded. “Not ma’am or Miss. Val is just fine Lieutenant…”
“Rosenthal. Robert Rosenthal.”
“Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts, Robert.”
The Lieutenant was moving further into the room as Val quickly passed a glass with whiskey to his Co-Pilot, the man grinning as soon as his fingers wrapped around the glass.
“Ah jeez, thanks Miss!”
“You’re welcome, now go on, the Colonel is waiting.” She gestured to where Harding was standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, a cloud of smoke swirling around him.
“Oh, shoot!” The Co-Pilot cursed, running off behind the rest of his crew to join them, whiskey in hand.
Shaking her head, Val carried on with offering up refreshments, watching out of the corner of her eye as Helen chatted with a young pilot who had come in behind Rosenthal and his crew. For someone who had been so sleepy this morning, willing to serve coffee and donuts from the warmth of her bed, Helen looked positively glowing as she poured what looked like a second whiskey for the man. Normally, she’d give Helen a look, but the girl had sat by while she and Olive did the same every time Everett and Dougie walked past the Clubmobile or into the hut. It was important to Val that all of them found a sliver of happiness, and maybe, this new pilot would be to Helen what Ev was to her.
When he leaves her with a dashing smile, Val turns quickly, busying herself with stacking empty glasses and cleaning up crumbs, so as to not get caught spying. Just as the nameless pilot reaches the door, he turns and calls out to Helen, a slight twang to his voice and a sparkle in his eye.
“See you later, Helen of Troy.” He winks, and joins the rest of the crews in the other room, leaving the two women standing there speechless.
“Helen of Troy?” Val turns to Helen, who’s trying furiously to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. Unsuccessfully if she had anything to say about it.
“He’s charming…”
“Yes, he certainly is!”
“You are the leading authority on charming pilots, DiRosano.” She teased.
“Shush, you know what I mean,” Val waves her off, picking up the tray of glasses she stacked, and heads for the door. “What’s his name?”
“Hmm?” Helen seems dazed, lost in a fantasy, and Val can’t help but roll her eyes.
“Oh here we go,” She grins. “His name, Helen. What was the charming pilot's name?”
“Oh! Nash,” The blush was not ceasing its takeover of her fair skin. “Lieutenant Herbert Nash.”
“Well, he certainly seems to have his sights set on you!”
Just as Helen was about to respond, the door opened and Red Bowman stepped out of the room, eyes scanning the front of the hut for something before landing on the coffee urn, and then over to the two girls cleaning up.
“Any more in there, girls?” He gestured to the urn, cigarette between two fingers.
“For you, Red? You don’t even have to ask.” Val winked, setting the tray down by the door to go pour him a coffee.
“Thank you, Valencia,” He groaned, pinching between his brows with two fingers. “These new kids are… Well, they’re kids.”
“They’re just anxious,” Handing over the cup, black with sugar, she could see something behind his eyes. Something fearful. “Same as the other boys were anxious when they got here.”
“These boys somehow seem younger than your boys.” Red sighed, and she could very clearly see the worry on his face.
“Our boys will lead them through,” Val nodded, knowing she felt the same worry even though Ev and Curt had been on their fair share of missions, that worry never subsided. “I know they will.”
She had spent the rest of the afternoon repeating her own words over and over. Our boys will lead them through tumbling over and over like a stone as she willed it to be true. She had seen too many men lose the fight already, coffee and a kind send off one minute, and the next she was scanning the faces as they shuffled through the door to see who had made it back and silently taking stock of the missing men. Quietly, she would keep their names off to the side, knowing that Curt and Ev were the ones who would see them meet their demise- hard as it was for the girls to not see those boys again it was infinitely harder on the boys who saw it happen first hand. Friends lost, sons, husbands and brothers who would never see home again. That, she had realized, was exactly what she had welcomed to Thorpe Abbotts earlier today. Boys that, if she had to guess, a handful or more would never see the inside of that hut again after their first raid. Boys who would maybe get to spend one night in the Officers Club with a good pretty girl to dance with and a hope that maybe she’d be waiting. Chances are she would be waiting, but what would return, no one could say for certain.
“You’re quiet,” Tattie looked up from where she was putting away the leftover snacks and newspapers in the Clubmobile. “Everything go alright with the new boys?”
“Oh, yea, they were fine. Eager.” She punctuates the sentence with a forced laugh.
“I figured as much. When they went past they were all wide eyed like it was Christmas morning.”
“Red looked a little nervous,” She slid the empty coffee urn back onto the shelf, turning to face Tattie. “He kept going on about how they were just kids.”
“They are kids,” Tattie shook her head. “This damn war.”
“I get why Benny didn’t want to be around when they showed up…”
“Almost all the boys went up for practice just before the new forts landed.”
“Are we wrong to get attached?” Val questioned, lighting a cigarette. “I don’t mean Ev or Doug, but the other boys.”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean, remembering Croz’s wife’s name, or how Claytor takes his coffee. Checking the score of the Yankees game in a three day old paper from home just so Egan has a better morning. That kind of stuff.”
Val lets her gaze fall to Olive who’s cleaning up outside the truck with Helen, the latter telling her all about their afternoon and the crews that had come through. She can’t help but hope that disappointment doesn’t find its way to her friend, the smile on her face giving Val the reminder of what they’re doing here and why they’re doing it. It’s more than coffee and donuts or snacks for the boys. It’s a smile that reminds them they’re still human, that they’re not just killing machines trained to fight a war; the boy who left home is still in there somewhere. It’s a friendly ear when their sweetheart sends a letter and they can’t wait to see someone about it. Or when their newborn starts crawling and their wife writes to tell them all about it in such detail it’s as if they’re seeing it happen in their mind's eye. It’s someone remembering how they take their coffee or who their favorite baseball team is. It’s having friends and someone to laugh with. If it meant being able to smile and making someone else smile, she didn’t mind getting attached all that much. They were good guys. Flyboys, sure, but they were good.
“No,” Tattie shook her head, a smile on her face. “I think it’s important we get attached to our boys.”
“Our boys…”
“Well, who else is going to look after them?”
“In the sky, they look after each other. But down here, on the ground, you’re right Tat… those are our boys.”
“And that damn dog.” She rolled her eyes, a stream of smoke passing through her lips.
“No,” She grinned. “We can’t forget about Meatball.”
———————————————————————————
She had walked back to the hut with Tattie, the two smoking and chatting idly as they took stock of all the new faces walking around base. Thorpe Abbotts seemed crowded now, the new fellas plus those who had been here from the start now taking up space in every available hut, rack and seat in the mess hall. All the hardstands were occupied and in the back of her head she filed away that they’d be brewing more coffee and making more donuts each day.
She’d hoped to run into Everett on her way back. They had parted ways in the Control tower that morning, and when she had left he was still in Jack’s office. Had she known they were in there shooting the shit, she’d have popped her head in and snarked at Jack a bit before leaving them both, but when Ev mentioned he needed to see Jack for something, she wasn’t about to interrupt that. She could surmise that the boys had their hands full now, but she’d remain hopeful that they’d see each other in the mess hall; or at the very least, he’d come find her before it was lights out on base. And considering no one slept the night before, they’d all be lights out pretty early if she had to venture a guess.
“Olive said you didn’t even go to bed last night?”
“Oh, no. Delays the hangover.”
“And how do you feel now, Spaatz?”
“Like the Clubmobile rolled over me, reversed, and rolled over me again.” She groaned.
“That’s certainly one way to describe a hangover.” Val laughed, not missing the scowl on Tattie’s face as she nudged her.
“And you?” The other woman questioned, eyebrows raised. “How are you feeling now that everything’s settled with Olive and Douglass?”
“I’m exhausted,” Val groaned. “But it’s a good exhausted, you know what I mean?”
“There’s a good way to be tired?”
“Sure there is!” Val exclaimed, explanation at the ready. “It’s like, when you come home after a night on the town; you danced all night and your feet hurt, and it’s a chore to even open the jar of cold cream, but you had the most wonderful time and you’d do it all over again…”
“So you’re not saying you’d argue with Blakely again, but…”
“But I’d sit out in the grass with all of you and watch the sun come up every night if I could.”
“Back at you, Valencia.”
Just as they reached the door of their hut, they could hear Olive and Helen inside already, the pair giggling quietly. Helen had been in a quiet daze all day after her encounter with the charming replacement pilot in Interrogation earlier. It seemed he had left such an impression on Helen that she wanted to tell any of the girls who would listen; Val would listen a hundred times over to see her friend smile. Pushing the door open, the two girls looked over from Olive’s bed, smiles wide and eyes sparking with mischief.
“You’ve got mail…” Olive’s tone was a playful, sing-song.
“What don’t I know?” Her green eyes narrowed in playful scrutiny as she made her way towards her bed, finding a piece of her own floral printed stationery laying folder on the pillow.
“Nope!” Olive mimed zipping her lips.
“Olive!” Val stomped her foot like a petulant child, shaking her head as she picked up the paper, smiling as she unfolded it to find Everett’s messy handwriting scrawled across it.
Honey-
Saw you were swarmed with new faces in interrogation and didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll be back a bit later. Our crew is taking a few of the new fellas up on a practice run. I’ll be back in time to eat with you in the Officer's Mess tonight- pick you up at 5:30. I Love you!”
-E
Her eyes flew across the paper three times before finally looking up. Olive’s gaze was there to meet hers, the Brit now standing in front of Val, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes and a smirk on her face.
“He…oh my god…”
“He what, honey?” Helen, who was still perched on Olive’s bed, looked over in concern.
“That’s the first time… In a note!”
“The first time for what?” Helen, again, posed the question to Val.
“Val? Honey, are you okay?” This time it was Tattie.
“DID YOU KNOW!?” Val’s gaze turned wide and sharp as she focused on Olive, her voice a few octaves higher than it should have been.
“Did I know what?” The other woman teased, her voice taking on an almost innocent tone.
“THIS!” Val waved the sheet of stationary in her face.
“What’s it say?” Olive jokingly tried to peer around it, hoping to catch a word or two.
“English, please!”
“Okay, okay…” She finally relented, taking the seat next to Val on the bed. “I promised him I wouldn’t let it slip before you found out or he told you.”
“How did you…”
“Dougie and I were in here earlier. I was reading my mail when Ev came looking for him.”
“Yea okay, you two were reading.” Val rolled her eyes.
“Don’t change the subject, Valencia!”
“Olive! Please tell me that I’m not sitting where…”
“No, Helen, you’re safe. Nothing happened.”
“As long as I’m not- “
“Would you two please focus! Everett just said he loves me!”
“Well of course he loves you!” Tattie rolled her eyes, walking past on her way to the showers.
“No, I mean, that’s the first time he’s ever said it.”
“I find that hard to believe.” She shouted, remaining in the conversation while freshening up.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, for starters, it’s the way you gaze into each other's eyes when you think no one is looking…” Helen grinned, rolling over to her stomach on the bed, chin propped on her hands and feet in the air like she was at a slumber party.
“Or when we are looking.” Olive teased, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Val. “Here Chicken, come on…”
Val gratefully accepts the cigarette from Olive, taking a long pull before exhaling again. Her next words come out in a swirl of white smoke, her eyes glassy like she’s lost in a memory.
“The last person who told me they loved me…”
“There was someone before Blakely?” Tattie’s head popped out from the wall of the bathroom.
“I don’t like talking about it,” Val sighed. “We met when I started working at the bank. He was a big shot and I was a secretary.”
“Val, you don’t have to tell us.”
“No, it’s okay. I want to,” She sighed. “I think I need to, to finally be rid of him.”
“Rid of him?”
“He was a real sweet talker,” She started. “Not like Curt or Ev. He was the kind of guy who could charm the skirt off a nun. Not even Curt can do that.”
“Oh…”
“So, he charmed me. Charmed me real good, and made me lots of promises.”
“Val, did he…”
“No,” Shaking her head violently, she took another drag of her cigarette. “I was so enthralled by him, I had wanted to.”
“So what happened?”
“The secretaries would always leave at five in the dot. So, there would be nights I would go home and he would still be working, and so Curt would meet me and walk me home. And one night, we were walking home, we came up to the picture house, and there he was.”
“Oh no…” Helen’s hand was covering her mouth, eyes wide in shock as she put two and two together.
“He was with another woman,” She shook her head. “I don’t know who she was, but I begged Curt to take me home.”
“Did you ever see him again?”
“Yes. In the police station. Curt beat him within an inch of his life. They both got arrested for a public brawl.”
“Valencia!”
“I had to identify them both,” She sighed. “Curt had claimed self defense, so, when it came time to make my statement, I said that my ex had attacked me, and Curt fought back in my defense.”
“Oh my god!”
“I tried dating other fellas after the dust settled, but Curt was always wildly protective, and made it difficult. I get why he did it.”
“He really is your protector isn’t he…”
“Until I found out he was the one who divulged my cocktail order to Everett…”
“Curt did!?”
“He did…” She smiled, the cigarette now burned nearly down to her fingers. “He surprises me in funny ways like that.”
“Insufferable, that one,” Olive chuckled. “But he really is a good egg.”
“What are you going to tell Blakely?” Tattie had joined them back in the main area of the hut.
“That I love him too,” She grinned. “Because I do love him.”
Everett’s note to Val was now safely tucked into the book on her side table. The first I Love You now pressed gently between the pages of The Great Gatsby so that she could fix herself up in time for dinner. Eating in the Officers Mess meant putting on your cleanest uniform, and her coffee stained, donut greased, jumpsuit would not do. Not when Chick Harding was a few tables away, and the high ranking members of their airbase were dining in the same room. That’s what she told herself at least, as she sat in front of the mirror in her skirt and blouse, pinning her hair so that it fell neatly against her shoulders.
The neatly pressed uniform was for The Brass, but the victory red lips, mascara on her lashes and rouge pinched cheeks were for Everett. She knew that even if she was still wearing a jumpsuit covered in grease or Meatball’s fur, he’d still pull her close and kiss her hello, but she liked the idea of getting primped for him. For looking clean on his arm when she knew he’d be showing up in a clean uniform as well. At the mirror next to her, Olive was doing the same thing. Painstakingly pinning her hair away from her face, and applying her lipstick just so that Dougie could kiss it off of her later, she was sure.
“That color looks good on you.”
“Yea?” Olive glanced at her in the reflection of the mirror, eyes only just meeting hers before going back to her hair. “It’s not too dark?”
“Not at all, it’s the perfect shade of red for you.”
“I think only you can pull off that Victory Red,” Olive chuckled. She remembered the first time Val had helped her get ready for the club and had applied her own red lipstick, the brighter red just not working with her skin at all. “It was not for me.”
“Oh gosh, do you remember how fast you wiped it off!”
“Immediate no,” Olive laughed, a sigh immediately following as she threw a hair pin to the table. “Ugh, this side does not want to cooperate!”
“Here, let me…” Val stood, coming to stand behind her as she deftly began rolling Olive’s hair between her fingers and pinning it back for her.
“How do you do it?”
“From an early age my mother taught me to be a ‘proper lady’,” She shook her head before breaking out into an impression of her mother. “Valencia, don’t leave the house without lipstick on. Don’t forget to set your hair.”
Olive laughed fully at Val’s broken English accent, making it sound as if her Italian mother was in the room with them.
“Is that what she sounds like?”
“Oh yes. And Nonna, not a word of English.”
“Well, you’re a whizz,” Olive looked up at her as she put the final pin in place. “I need to pay better attention when you do your hair.”
“You’re doing just fine chickie,” Val winked, slipping on her watch and moving to pick her jacket up off the bed. “We were all there once.”
“Thanks,” Olive beamed, pushing back from the vanity and standing to put her own jacket on. “Now come on, it’s almost 5:30 and if I know those two…”
“They’re probably already outside.” Val finished for her.
Ev stood with Doug outside, the two men smoking while quietly discussing their practice mission earlier today with the replacements. Ev had taken a handful of the new boys up, and leading the wing, tested them on formations, calling out patterns, and PR’s from the Navigators to Radio Men. Dougie had simulated a bomb drop, all the boys in Just A Snappin had watched to see just what the new boys were capable of. There had been two forts in particular they’d been impressed with, but for the most part, the new boys were as green as the paint on a B-17.
“I wanted to take Ol to the pub tonight, but that's not happening…”
“I know,” Ev groaned. “I owe Val a date but, based on what Jack told me earlier, we're about to go through the mud for a bit.”
“This whole place is mud,” Doug grumbled. “Never stops raining.”
“This one sounds big…”
“He say where?”
“No, Harding’s keeping it close to the vest.”
“Dammit… it would be nice to know what we’re up against for once.”
““Yea,” Ev took a final pull of his cigarette before tossing it in the makeshift ashtray outside the girls’ hut. “Explains why he wants us looking after these new kids.”
“Fucking replacements…” Dougie sighed.
“Those two from Laredo were damn good,” Ev raised an eyebrow at him. “Rosenthal and Nash?”
“That kid Rosie almost gave you a run for your money, pal.”
“I’m not worried about him,” Ev nodded. “But some of these other kids wouldn’t know formation if I had it painted on the wing.”
Douglass was about to reply with a quick remark about how they should paint it on the wing, when the door opened and Val and Olive appeared. Both girls in their Red Cross dress uniform, a far cry from the sleepy faces they had found at the Clubmobile earlier in the day. Ev’s gaze immediately found Val’s, his hazel eyes finding hers just as her smile widened. Obviously she had seen his note, she was ready at the time he had told her to be, but what had she thought of that truth bomb he had dropped? Suddenly a bit nervous, he played it off with a kiss, greeting her as he did every time they were together.
“Hi, pretty,” He pulled back, smiling at her. “How was your day?”
“Oh my day was lovely, dear,” She teased. “Did you have fun with the replacements?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Taking her hand, he began leading her away from the hut, checking over his shoulder to find Olive and Doug still greeting each other. “Were they respectful at least when they showed up?”
“Oh, very!” She nodded. “I think one of the new boys might be from Brooklyn, but I need to find out.”
“Another face from home,” He shook his head with a smile. “You and Curt will love that.”
“He sounded it when I handed him his coffee earlier.”
“Did you catch his name?”
“Rosenthal…”
“Oh, Rosie!” Ev’s eyes went wide. “His crew went up with us after they met with Chick. He’s a pilot and boy can he fly.”
“Yea? Him and his Co-Pilot passed through kind of quickly, but their friend took a shine to Helen and lingered.”
“Let me guess,” Ev laughed. “Nash?”
“Yes! How did you know?”
“He was yappin up a storm in the equipment hut about the pretty Red Cross girl who served him whiskey and Dougie and I heard him.”
“Dougie didn’t try to strangle him, did he?”
“No,” He punches out a laugh, recalling the week they’ve all just endured. “We had a feeling it was Helen since Tattie was in the truck when we left.”
“She’s smitten, that’s for sure.”
“Well, for his sake, he better treat her right.”
Val nodded in agreement as they reached the Officers Mess, Everett pulling the door open for her and allowing her to enter ahead of him. Once they were both inside, he led her to a table, one hand on the small of her back, the other quickly pulling his crush cap off and tucking it under his arm. He found Benny saving a few seats in the middle of the room, Croz already seated across from him, John Brady to his left. The three of them were talking animatedly, Meatball’s head resting between Croz and Brady.
“Fellas,” Ev greeted, pulling out a chair for Val and waiting for her to sit. “How’re we all doing?”
“Blakely,” Brady offered in greeting. “Nice to see you outside the truck, Val.”
“You saw me in the club last night…”
“I know but, this is what Jules would call a proper conversation. So, it’s…”
“Nice to not be rushed off from the truck, or shouting over the band in the club. I hear you.”
“Exactly, yes.”
“Dougie with you, Ev?” Benny looked over at him, Ev now in the seat across from Val so that they could see each other. He also ventured a guess that she’d want Olive next to her.
“He and Olive were behind us, should be here in a minute.”
“Are those two done fighting now?” Croz looked up from the table.
“They had better be,” Demarco grumbled. “Otherwise I had Tattie Spaatz on my shoulders and stayed up till sunrise for nothing.”
“Wait, who was on your shoulders!?” Harry balked, his big brown eyes wide in shock.
“Tattie… it’s a long story. But that one,” Benny gestured to Val with his thumb. “And her friends are all nosey and couldn’t let Doug and Olive make up in peace, so they had to spy through the windows.”
“What windows?” Brady chimed in.
“These windows,” Ev laughed. “Doug and Olive came in here to talk-“
“No, you forced them in here to talk,” Val corrected him. “And I couldn’t see in the little window in the door, so I used the windows up there.”
“Jesus christ, Val!” Harry laughed.
“Biddick was holding all the jackets, Dickie had Helen on his shoulders, it was certainly something.” Benny recalled, the moment Tattie started ordering him around coming to the forefront of his mind.
As if on cue, James Douglass came sauntering over to the table with Olive tucked under his arm, the pair grinning like teenagers.
“That about answer your question, Croz?” Val laughed.
“Sure does.”
Doug, doing his best to behave like a gentleman, pulled the chair out next to Val for Olive, before rounding the table to take the seat next to Everett.
“So, fellas, how’s it going then?”
“Could ask you the same thing, Dougie.” Brady grinned.
“Oh I’m great!” Doug beamed, winking at Olive across the table.
Val just catches her rolling her eyes at him before she turns towards Brady, the two of them discussing the letter Olive had received from his sweetheart Juliet earlier in the day. After Val had divulged her past to the girls in the hut, Olive had offered to lighten the mood by telling the girls all about the letter she had received from Juliet Thompson. Still flabbergasted by the sheer size of the letter, Val could only describe what the girl had written as a novel, and outside of James Douglass she had not seen anything capture Olive’s interest quite so much.
“She write you an essay?” Brady jokes, and Val immediately knows that this is a common occurrence for Juliet.
“She did, actually,” Olive nods enthusiastically.
“Yeah,” Dougie interjects. “We read it together.”
The boys at the table break out into a roaring cheer at his remark, and Val see’s Olive’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red as she begins to laugh, Val falling into a fit of giggles alongside her.
“James!” Olive scolds, hand finding Val’s on top of the table, the two of them with tears in their eyes. “Keep it quiet!”
“Yeah, Doug,” Ev shakes his head in amusement, ruffling his hair a little. “Keep it quiet.”
Across the mess hall, Val see’s the pilot from earlier, Rosenthal, sitting at a table with a few other replacements. His Co-Pilot and Helen’s new eye candy, Nash are sitting with him, along with a few other members of who she assumes are both their crews. He catches her eye briefly, and she offers him a wave before turning back to Everett who’s talking about the crews he led up earlier. Brady had taken the Crash Wagon crew up on a practice run so as to avoid having to meet them, so he seems especially intrigued by what Ev has to say about how the new kids had flown.
“Hey Val, looks like you’ve caught the eye of some of the replacements,” Benny gestures to the group of men at another table staring at her with what could only be described as hearts in their eyes. “Starry eyed kids.”
“Rosenthal and his crew?” She sighed, shaking her head with a laugh.
“Uh, no actually…”
“What?” Everett’s head turns in the direction of where Benny is looking, his hazel eyes narrowing, his face taking on a dangerous scowl.
“Everett, they’re not doing anything, they’re just-”
“Drooling at my girlfriend like a pack of dogs.” He practically growled, gaze fixated on the table of replacements. .
“Ev, hey pal,” Dougie dropped a hand to his shoulder, shaking him out of it. “They’re just kids, they’ll learn.”
“Yea… learn not to ogle other people’s girlfriends.” His gaze still on the new kids, voice raised to get his point across. The faces of the replacements go pale as they realize that the woman they’ve been whispering about is the Captain’s girlfriend.
“Everett…” Val warned.
Before he could say anything, Gale Cleven’s voice carried over from the table with the replacements, the major standing with his hands on his hips as he addressed the boys now staring at him with wide eyes.
“Fellas,” He nodded. “Those girls will get your utmost respect, understood?”
A chorus of yes, major echoed through the room, Buck nodding in satisfaction at their answer before moving on.
“Boys, Miss Lewis, Miss Val,” He offered them all a smile, giving Val a slight wink knowing she heard him with the replacements. “Enjoy dinner everyone.”
“Major,” Everett nodded. “Thank you sir.”
“You see?” Val nudged him gently, as Buck walked towards where John Egan was waiting for him with Curt and Dickie. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go all…”
“Green with envy?”
“Yea, that.”
“Don’t worry,” She grinned, picking her napkin up and placing it in her lap. “I only have eyes for you.”
——————————————————————
By the time dinner is finished, the lack of sleep has fully caught up with just about everyone, and the girls make the decision to forgo the Officers Club for the evening. Instead they choose to spend time sitting outside the Red Cross hut, taking the chairs they’ve commandeered from the club outside and propping the door open so that the record player can be heard.
“Ev, we need to get a record player in our rack.” Doug laments, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Olive who's perched on his lap.
“Croz has a record player,” Ev sighs, tucking Val into his side as they squeeze into the borrowed armchair together.
“Yea, but he plays fancy stuff.” Dougie gripped around his Lucky Strike.
“What exactly is fancy stuff, Doug?” Val laughs, peering over at him.
“You know, opera and stuff.”
“Classical music is nice. Nonna plays a lot of classical Italian at home, it’s actually quite nice.”
“What does Pearl play in her house, Ol?” Dougie ducks his head down to peer at his girlfriend, a smile blooming on her face at the mere mention of her grandmother.
“Oh, a lot of Glenn Miller in her house.” She replies in a sigh, and Val can tell she’s thinking of home.
The feeling of nostalgia spreads over them all like a warm blanket, the girls sharing anecdotes of home and growing up and living with their grandmothers. Val is practically draped over Everett in their shared seat, leaning over to get closer to Olive as she shares tales from the kitchen; making meatballs and sauce on Sundays, and arancini every time there’s a special occasion. That once she was old enough, Nonna DiRosano would beckon her into the kitchen and teach her how to prepare the traditional meals so that one day she could cook them for her own family. She recalls how up until the day she left for England, she would request a traditional Sunday meal for her birthday every year, no matter what day of the week it would fall on. She laughed thinking about how Curt and his mother would always need to be present at the table, the Irish woman and her son happy to share in delicacies that were special to their friends that had become like family. In turn, Val had also learned how to prepare a traditional St. Patrick’s Day meal from Mrs. Biddick; the older woman had once thought her son would be the apple of Val’s eye, and he was, but as a brother was to a sister. Still, she had insisted that Val learn, because one day I won’t be here to cook for my son, and heaven knows what kind of wife he’ll end up with. Val’s impression of Mrs. Biddick is spot on, her Irish accent something that has the others laughing and for a moment, forgetting all about where they are. That blanket of nostalgia is warm, tucked around them so snug, they can almost feel the softness of its cover.
The boys, both enthralled at hearing all about how Val and Olive had grown up, begin to share some of their childhood memories as well. Everett is quick to share that he was a troublemaker of a child, something that Val immediately finds amusing because as much as he enjoys putting his feet up and having fun, her Everett is the most GI of GI’s according to the other men around base. She’s hard pressed to agree with them, because when the time comes for a mission, he’s all business. Tattie and Helen join them as Everett is in the middle of telling a story about how nothing fragile was ever safe in his parent’s home, his hazel eyes bright with childlike mischief before he morphed into his best impression of his mother, just to get a rise out of his audience.
“All I heard was, and it scared the life out of me, let me tell ya, was ‘Everett Ernest, if you so much as look at that vase–’” He crowed, Val laughing from her spot in his lap.
“Wait, wait!” Olive shakes her head, wanting to make sure she heard him correctly. “Your middle name is Ernest?”
“Yes, and what of it, English?” He fires back with a grin.
“I'm sorry, it's just–” Her own laughter takes the words right out of her mouth, her head thrown back onto Doug’s shoulder. “I didn't expect that. You don't–”
The laughter takes over once more, Everett shaking his head at her antics, the pilot now hiding his face in Val’s shoulder.
“Oh come on, Ol!” Val laughs, her fingers combing through Everett’s hair.
“You don't look like an Ernest, that's all.” She finishes.
“Go on then, what's yours?” Ev challenges her, eyes narrowed.
“Maude.” She giggles, catching the glint in his eye as she says it.
“Maude?” It's his turn to laugh now, the sound carrying across the open night air. “Jesus, Ol, that's worse than Ernest!”
“I think it's cute,” Dougie says, sweetly tapping her nose gently.
“Thank you!” Her nose wrinkles sweetly under his finger. “I think so too.”
“I think Ernest is adorable,” Val grins, turning to face him, Olive and Dougie now in their own little world. “Suits you very well.”
“What’s yours?” Ev prods, his hand coming up to twirl a loose curl around his finger.
“Chiara,” She sighs. “Valencia Chiara.”
“Beautiful…” He whispers, bringing her face closer to his, noses touching just so.
“You think so?”
He nods gently, the space between them almost non-existent.
Val can feel him tense up underneath her, his body going stiff as they remain pressed close together. There’s a pretty good idea of what might have caused it running laps in her mind, and she resolves to finally put the man under her out of his misery with a bit of teasing.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong…”
“Ev, you’re really tense.” She pushes, trying to get him to crack.
“No, no I’m okay,” He shifts under her, and she can tell he’s practically begging his body to relax. “Honest.”
“You don’t seem okay…”
“Promise, I’m okay.”
“Would it make you feel better if you knew that I loved you too?” Peering down at him, her eyes are dancing with mirth as her mouth turns up into a smile.
“Yes, actually it would-wait… you’ve been holding onto that all night havent you?”
“Well, you sprung it on me,” She teased. “I thought, only fair to return the favor.”
You’re terrible…” His whole body relaxes under her, his head tipping back to rest on the back of the chair. He’s smiling, the same smile as the first time he brought her a drink at the club, and asked her to dance just two months ago.
“Maybe I am. But, you love me in spite of it.”
“I do love you…I love you so much Val.” His mouth slants over her’s without a second thought, one hand tangled in her hair as the other wraps around her waist and holds her close. They’re so lost in each other, this moment, that they don’t hear Tattie clearing her throat as she takes a seat on the short brick wall at the front of the hut, nor do they hear Doug and Olive trying to get their attention.
“Hellooo,” Tattie calls out to them. “Lovebirds, the rest of us are still here.”
“Hmm? Oh, yea yea, we know.” Val waves her away, tucking herself back into Everett’s chest.
“Did you tell him?” Olive presses.
She’s smiling as she takes the cigarette from Doug, his blue eyes narrowing playfully before snatching it back from between her lips just as soon as she’s taken a pull from it.
“What do you think?” Val winks.
The girls break out into a gaggle of squeals and laughter, both Everett and Dougie looking on as they smile and carry on with glee. Seeing them outside of the truck and in their uniforms, smiling and carrying on as girls were meant to, not under the din of war and loss, made both the boys smile. Tattie pulls her cigarettes out, lighting the last one and tossing the box to the side. She passes it to Val, who takes a pull before passing to Helen who’s sitting between the two couples.
Helen, the most inexperienced smoker, keeps coughing at each drag she takes. Each cough is dainty and delicate, in a way that only Helen can manage.
“Helen, doll,” Olive urges. “Put that out, you're hurting yourself!”
“I don't wanna look like the party pooper!” She gripes.
“I can promise, you're not,” Olive laughs, gesturing with a wave of her hand to give her the cigarette, the tip covered in her lipstick.
As she stubs it out, four men round the corner, all of them wide eyed as they spot both Captains sitting outside so casually. Val looks up with a grin and waves, beckoning them over while Helen visibly swoons at the sight of the thin, dark haired pilot.
“Ohhhh,” Olive teases, knowingly. “Is that Nash?.”
Helen giggles, tucking an invisible strand of hair behind her ear as she nods shyly.
“Oh, Helen, your hair is fine.” Olive guffaws, shaking her head.
The quartet of replacements approaches hesitantly, Nash immediately making a beeline for Helen without so much as a wave to Val and Olive, or acknowledging Ev and Doug. They take it in stride as Val stands from Everett’s lap to greet Rosie, Pappy and the third man who she hasn’t officially met yet.
“Rosie,” Ev extends his hand for him to shake before moving to do the same with the other two men. “Fellas, enjoying yourselves?”
“Rosie, it’s alright, you don’t have to do that out here,” Everett insists with a kind smile. “We’re all just shooting the breeze.”
“Yea, come join us,” Val grins at them, turning to wave Olive over towards where they’re gathered. “Olive, come meet the new fellas!”
Olive is off Doug’s lap like a shot, pulling Tattie with her as she joins Val and Everett with the new boys. The girls don’t see Everett slip backwards towards where Doug is still sitting, leaving Val to introduce the new boys to both Tattie and Olive.
“Olive, Tattie, this is Robert,” Val begins. “His Co-Pilot Pappy, Speas is Nash’s Co-Pilot and Nash is…where's he gone off to?”
“I'll give ya three guesses,” Pappy wiggles his eyebrows.
“That was fast.” Olive titters. “He's keen.”
“He sure is.” He says, looking at Olive. “Sorry Miss…?”
“Lewis. Olive Lewis.”
“No way!” He gestures to himself, hand coming to his chest in a fit of excitement. “Pappy Lewis!”
“Oh?!” Olive squeals, clutching at his arm in excitement before remembering her surroundings. “I mean, it's a pretty common name, Pappy.”
“Never met a Brit with the same one before though,” He ponders. “Truth be told, I’ve never met a Brit until just now.”
“It’s your lucky day,” Olive grins at him. “A Brit and a long lost cousin all at once.”
“Hey, Rosie!” He hollers, unaware that his pilot is still standing right next to him, watching the entire thing unfold with Val and Tattie. “Came all the way to England and found my cousin!”
“Pappy, she's not–” He tries to reason.
Pappy pulls Olive into a one armed hug, the over excited man resembling Meatball when he’s tied to the pole outside the Clubmobile and trying to get attention from everyone as they pass by on their way. Olive quickly pulls Pappy over towards Doug, and Val can see the excitement on both of their faces at the blooming friendship between them; Olive doing exactly what Val had been questioning all afternoon. The question of caring too much, getting too attached, seeming millions of miles away as new friends blended with old friends, something special igniting between all of them.
“Rosie, ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head to the rack and get some sleep,” Speas addresses the group. “It’s been a day.”
“Oh, of course, go on then. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Val waves goodnight, before watching as he claps Rosie on the shoulder before turning towards their designated hut.
“We won’t be long,” Rosie nods after him. “Nash is probably going to be a while, but I’ll wait for Pappy.”
“Come sit,” Val turns back towards where they had all been gathered earlier. “The record player is still going, and we’re just relaxing.”
“I don’t want to intrude, really.”
“Robert-”
“Rosie’s fine, Miss Val.”
“Just Val, please.” She narrows her eyebrows playfully at him as she takes her seat back outside the hut, Everett standing to pull Doug’s now empty chair over for Rosie to sit in, while Pappy takes a seat on the half wall next to Tattie.
“Yea, come on fellas, no pressure,” Ev pulls out his cigarettes, offering one to Rosie who politely declines. Pappy accepts, lighting it before offering to share it with Tattie. “Besides, she’s been itching to ask you a few questions.”
“Everett,” She rolls her eyes, but stops when she realizes Olive and Doug are nowhere to be found. “Hey, where’d they go? Are they reading again?”
“They went for a walk,” He gave her a look that said there was more to it, but he didn’t want to kill the mood. “But I changed the record after they left.”
“Artie Shaw…” Rosie commented, picking up on the melody coming from the open door of the Red Cross hut.
“The man knows his stuff,” Pappy commented. “I’m surprised he’s not playing with Benny Goodman instead.”
“Do you play?” Everett asked, forearms braced on his thighs as he focused on Rosie.
“No, not a note,” Rosie chuckled, turning towards Everett. “My mother and sister though, boy can they play.”
“So, you prefer Rosie over Robert then…”
“My mother calls me Robert.” His face twists into something childish, and she can immediately tell he misses his mother, but maybe doesn’t miss hearing his full name all the time.
“And his sweetheart calls him Robbie!”
“Pappy!”
“What! I’m just letting them know!” He shrugs from where he’s sitting, a laugh bubbling up that he tries to cover with a cough.
“Okay, so, Rosie, what part of Brooklyn are you from?” Val turns to him, a twinkle in her eye.
“How did you-”
“I’m from Bensonhurst.” She grins, red lips stretched wide as she sees Rosie’s eyes widen in recognition.
“I grew up in Flatbush!”
“Oh we’re practically neighbors!” She turned to Ev with a smile, explaining. “Flatbush and Bensonhurst are ten minutes apart, honey.”
“Yeah, guess we are!”
“And is your sweetheart in Flatbush too?” She prods.
“She is, yeah…”
“What’s her name?” Everett asks, flicking the ash of his cigarette to the ground before tossing it into the ashtray.
“Josephine,” Rosie smiles, a far off look in his eye. “I uhh, I call her Jo.”
“Rosie Rosenthal, you and I are going to be great friends.” Val nods, immediately feeling a sense of peace with Rosie and Pappy.
Val makes a mental note to introduce Rosie to Croz, knowing that his wife is living by herself in the city and could probably use a friend to help pass the time. Based on the friendly disposition of the man, she could only surmise that his Josephine was as mild mannered and kind as he had been so far, and as a fellow Brooklyn girl, Val had resolved to write to her once she got to know Rosie a little better. If she were on the opposite side of things, she would want someone telling her how Everett was truly managing while overseas. Then again, if she had remained on the other side of things, she wouldn’t know Everett, and would simply be waiting for letters from England from Curt. He was another one who she had made a mental note to introduce to Rosie, though she wondered if Curt’s brash personality would be too much for the soft spoken boy from Flatbush. Then again, you could never have too many friends.
“Hey uh, let me ask you something,” Pappy garnered the attention of the group. “Did I see a dog running around the hardstands earlier?”
“That’s Meatball,” Tattie groaned, catching a look from Val. “What! Don’t look at me like that!”
“Like what?” Val laughed, knowing exactly where Tattie was headed.
“Yea, Tat, Meatball’s a good boy,” Ev cut in teasingly. “He loves you, why don’t you love him?”
“Oh I like him just fine, Blakely,” She chuckled. “But I don’t like my clothes covered in doggy fur, or when he gets inside the Clubmobile.”
“Wait wait, hold on,” Pappy leans forward, eyes wide in amusement. “His name is Meatball?”
“Yes.”
“And he goes into the Clubmobile?”
“Yes.”
“What, does he make coffee and donuts too?”
“Oh no, he’s Benny DeMarco’s dog,” Everett chuckled. “He won him in a game of craps when we came over from Greenland.”
“He brought that dog up in a B-17?!” Rosie balked, eyes the size of saucers, reminiscent of when Val had found out how the Husky had made it to Thorpe Abbotts.
“He did, yea. Got him a mask and everything.” Ev laughed, remembering how Benny had paid a whole three dollars for a mask for Meatball before loading him into Our Baby in Greenland.
The five of them sat there a while longer, casual conversation and laughter surrounding them with ease. That blanket from earlier, the softness and warmth that had covered them had returned, the air around them comfortable and calm. A moment that had Val wondering just how long it would last. How long would it be before the light was on, and the boys were rushing between the briefing hut and the hardstand. Coffee and a donut for the road, a goodbye kiss and a prayer to return safely. Waiting in the Interrogation Hut to count the forts as they returned, rosary beads clutched between her fingers, and watchful eyes counting the men as they staggered back from their mission.
As the thoughts swirled in her mind, the sound of the siren cut through the night air and pulled the blanket off them with a vengeance. Red Bowman’s voice fell upon them as the siren came to a stop, his thick New England accent the only thing anyone could hear.
The light was on.
Everyone back to your racks.
It was as if she had willed it to happen just by hoping it wouldn’t.
“Well boys, you heard the man, light’s on.” Ev groaned, standing from his chair, hands held out to help Val as she moved to stand.
“The light?” Pappy asked, brows knit together.
“We’re flying tomorrow,” He nodded, gesturing to all the men filtering out of the Officer’s Club and back to their racks. “Better head back to your racks, you’ll find out in the morning if you’re on stand down or not.”
“Alright then,” Rosie stood, gesturing for Pappy to follow him. “Thanks for the warm welcome, everyone. Everett, Val, Tattie, have a good night.”
“G’night Rosie, Pappy,” Tattie waved, making her way inside the hut. “Val, I’ll give you two a minute.”
“Thanks Tat,” She smiled. “I’ll be in soon.”
With Rosie and Pappy gone, and Tattie in the hut, Everett took the opportunity to pull Val aside and give her a proper good night.
“You alright?” He looked down at her, his arms coming to rest around her waist as he held her close. “You look a little spooked.”
“No, I’m alright,” She peered up at him. “I just worry every time that god forsaken light goes on and you have to go back up.”
“Hey, I promise I’m always going to fight to come back to you.”
“Always?”
“Every single time,” He smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear before pressing his lips gently to her forehead. “We have a lot ahead of us, Valencia Chiara.”
“Oh do we now, Everett Ernest?”
“We do,” He winked, tugging her closer. “And I love you.”
She would never tire of those words coming from him. Nor would she tire of saying them back.
“I love you too,” She whispered, leaning up on her toes to meet his lips with her own. “So much.”
They stood there a few moments longer, holding each other closely while savoring the last few moments of quiet before chaos would ultimately descend on Thorpe Abbotts. Peaceful in each other's arms, safe together. Until Red Bowman’s voice was booming over the tannoy. Again.
JAMES DOUGLASS! BED NOW!
Val stood, face pressed against Everett’s chest as they stood there cuddling. The giggle bubbling in her chest burst free in one loud cackle as Olive and Dougie came skidding around the side of the hut, laughing like school kids. She hoped that no matter what, the playfulness that they all shared would always find its way back to them after touching back down on the ground after each flight. Oh, how she loved it so.
Part Seven
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!
Is God so cruel as to take away the only family someone has? War is rough on everyone involved, even the ones who remain on the ground while the boys go up. Sometimes it takes more than a good luck kiss, and the skill of an excellent pilot. It takes old traditions, a few prayers and friends looking out for you. Santa Maria, Pray for Us.
Part Three
Follow along with the Eight to The Bar Playlist
A/N: This chapter contains 18+ themes & situations. Minors DNI.
That damn red mission light was a constant reminder of the war that was currently raging on outside the walls of Thorpe Abbotts. That stolen moments and solace sought in the shelter of the Officers Club, in the arms of someone who you adored, were small luxuries. You couldn’t count on them always being there, so you took advantage while you could. So long as the war raged on in the skies, Val understood this, much as it pained her. Watching Everett go off with Douglass and Benny, knowing it was only a matter of hours before she’d wave him off from the safety of the Clubmobile; she’d watch from a distance as his flying fortress took off into the sky, breath caught in her throat.
Lighting a cigarette, Val resolves to find a moment's peace before she has to make her way to bed. The few hours of sleep before her day would begin beckons her, but she knows it’ll be a restless sleep if she doesn’t take the time to clear her head, and find peace before Everett is in the air. The door of the club opens, and she see’s Olive come around the corner to take the place that Everett had previously occupied, patting her pockets looking for her cigarettes, but coming up short.
“There you are,” Olive turns to her. “When the light went on I was looking for you but didn't see you in the club.”
“Ev and I took a walk… You ready for bed, doll?” Val asks, handing her the cigarette she’s currently smoking.
“Not yet, Val,” Olive sighs, taking a puff. “Tonight was kind of overwhelming. Need to take a walk.”
“Sure thing, Ol,” Val nods, understanding the need to clear her head more than anymore. “See you in there, okay? Be careful.”
“I’m always careful,” She nods, giving Val a brief hug and kissing her gently on the cheek. Olive passes the cigarette back to her before asking her what has become the question of the evening, as far as Val is concerned. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” She says, taking one last drag before stubbing out the cigarette against the wall of the club. “I had a good talk with Ev and I feel much better.”
She crosses her arms in order to shield herself from the cold British air, still not quite used to it. It bites a lot more than a Brooklyn breeze. She had told her friend the night prior. Bites you right on the ass, and for what.
“This isn’t going to get easier, is it?” Olive asks, looking out into the night sky. “The worrying, the constant knot in my stomach every time I see that damn red light.”
“No, it doesn’t,” She says pointedly, brow furrowing as she thought back to moments prior when Everett had been pulled away from her. “But then you see him again and the relief, God, there’s nothing like it. Someone should bottle that feeling and sell it. They’d be a millionaire, Olive.”
“I didn’t plan on feeling like this…for anyone. Here or my–” Val looks at her, urging her to continue, but when she doesn’t, she knows then that Olive is thinking about Benny and Douglass.
“That’s what this war has done, doll. Mess up all our plans.” She pushes her body back from the wall and starts to walk towards their hut, looking back over her shoulder at her friend. “That’s a story for another night, though. Are you still taking that walk?”
Olive nods, and Val gives her a smile. Beginning her walk back, she suddenly turns back to Olive who’s still standing in the same place.
“I’ll leave water on your side table,” She gives her a wink. “Prevent the hangover.”
“Thanks Val, “ Olive smiles, but suddenly remembers that she had left Helen inside when she ventured out, Tattie already back at their hut. “Wait, where’s Helen?”
“Curt offered to walk her back.” She says with a roll of her eyes.
“Oop!” Olive giggles. “Is Curt suddenly keen on our girl?”
“Curt is keen on everyone,” Val shakes her head knowingly. “But Helen’s not keen on him like that. She’s a smart cookie, and far too sweet for that pain in the ass.”
“She’d also never live it down if she got the clap from him.”
“Olive, I’d kill him if he even tried it with Helen.” Val grinned, turning back in the direction of the hut and finally making her way to bed.
Still restless even after she had changed, and gotten into bed, Val couldn’t quite keep her mind from wandering. Switching on the small light above her bed, she quietly opened the drawer of her side table, and pulled out her sewing kit. Rifling through the bag for her red spool of thread and scissors, she began pulling until she had three pieces. Her hands moved effortlessly, a task she had been doing since she was a child. Tying off one end, she held the top firmly before braiding down the length of the thread. Right over the middle, left over the middle, and repeat. Fingers moving deftly, she repeated this entire process two more times until she had three braids, all tied off neatly at the end. A tail of string left on each to be tied to the top end. If her mother could see her, she’d scold her for not sleeping, for letting her mind get the better of her in such times when all she could do was pray. She’d argue that idle hands were the devils playground even at night.
Eyes finally beginning to droop, she stashed the spool of thread and scissors, turned the light off, and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of hazel eyes and the future. One day, maybe they’d get to live in the luxury of waking up together without the threat of war hanging over their heads. Dreams of Everett and home, wherever they might choose, and dinners shared over a kitchen table instead of a mess hall. She had been so deep in her dream that she hadn’t heard the door open or Olive creep into the hut.
It was all hurry up and rush when morning rolled around. The four women scattered around their nissen hut in various states of undress as they all worked to get ready and head to the Clubmobile. They were always up a bit before the boys, needing to get the donuts warm, coffee perking and other sundries set up on the truck. With the mission light going off the night prior, she could only imagine what state the boys would be trudging up to the truck in. She doesn't think many of them slept through the night, if her own restlessness was anything to go on. Helen and Tattie had woken up as bleary eyed as she had, and Olive had fallen asleep in her clothes, the poor thing.
Stacking the candy bars while Helen sorted the cups, she heard a familiar bark carry across the tannoy, and couldn’t help but smirk. Casting a glance over at Olive, she sees her filling one of the carafes with fresh coffee, idly chatting with Tattie about their switching dance partners the night before.
“Ol!” She called out with a smile, watching as Meatball pulled his owner towards the Clubmobile like he was on a mission. “Benny…”
Benny offered her a wave and a smile as he waited for Olive, which Val kindly returned. Benny was a good guy, a fellow Italian, and as far as she was concerned, that made him aces in her book.
“Ciao Benny!” Val grinned, loving any excuse to stretch her legs by speaking Italian. “And Meatball!”
“Ciao,” The pilot chuckled, crouching to scratch behind the dog's ears. “Meatball, say good morning to Val. Go on, say Ciao Valencia!”
Meatball only offered a bark to the woman in the window of the truck, which was good enough for all parties concerned. Checking to see if anyone was looking, she reached under the counter and pulled out a donut she had stashed, signaling to Meatball and tossing it down to him. Laughing as he caught it in his mouth, she saw Olive come around to the front of the truck, a smile on her face as she greeted her suitor and his dog in that friendly way she greeted everyone.
Of course Meatball would remain with them while the boys went up today. It was becoming a common occurrence that he’d start out with the Red Cross girls, before being run over to Kenny and Winks on the hardstand for a little exercise while the girls cleaned up and got the interrogation hut ready for the boys return. She’d just barely heard Benny try to coax an early cup of coffee out of Olive when a soft knock sounded on the open door of the truck. She half expected to see Chick, or someone who she’d actually have to give the early coffee to, but instead there was Ev and Dougie, one with a shit eating grin on his face and the other smiling softly at her. She made a move to greet them when Douglass lifted his finger to his lips, jerking his head in the direction of Olive, mischief bright in his already bright blue eyes.
“You’re fresh!” Val had whispered to him once she was close enough.
Everett could only shake his head at his friend’s antics and watch as Dougie waited with bated breath for Olive to turn back to the truck and make her way inside.
“Good boy, Meatball.” Olive spoke sweetly to the dog, and Val could hear the lead clanging against the pole outside the truck as Olive tied him securely.
Dougie grinned, and turned on his heel just as Olive rounded the corner, his hands jutting out and tickling her as her eyes went wide and she jumped in shock.
“James Douglass!”
Dougie was apologizing profusely, that mischievous smile still gracing his face, as Everett took the three short steps up into the truck.
“Morning, pretty girl.” He wasted no time in pulling her close for a kiss, despite Helen’s protests that they take it elsewhere as she shuffled past them and outside.
“Hmm, now it is.” She grinned, dropping her forehead against his chest, arms wrapped around him.
“You alright?”
“Still sleepy, that’s all.” She mumbled, face pressed against his chest.
“Honey, did you sleep at all last night?”
“A little,” She sighed. “When I did fall asleep, it was a bit restless.”
She could feel him heave a deep sigh as his hands rubbed up and down her back,
“Maybe tonight we just lay low, hmm? We can go out to the fort and sit on the wing if you want…”
“Can we sneak a cocktail out like last time?” She peered up at him, eyes wide and red lips stretched into a smile he could never say no to.
“Sure, if that’s what you want, I’ll make it happen.”
“Make Kenny leave the stairs out this time.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He winked.
Leaning back out of the truck, he saw that Dougie and Olive were still occupied, Meatball looking on dutifully.
“Oh, I’ve got something for you!” Val stepped back, reaching into her pocket.
She pulled out one of the braids she had made the night before, grinning as she held it up for him.
“What’s that?” Ev looked at her curiously as she took his left hand in hers.
“In Italian culture, red is a sign of protection. I couldn’t sleep last night and so, braided a few of these for you boys.”
“Protection?”
“The color red keeps bad things at bay,” She spoke softly, tying the braid around his left wrist, right behind his watch. “My Nonna taught me how to braid these when I was little, and it’s always been something I do when I can’t settle down. I want you to be protected up there, Everett.”
“Thank you,” He grinned, taking her face in his hands and kissing her lips sweetly. “It’s better than any good luck charm I’ve got.”
“Don’t take it off. When it breaks on its own, that means it’s time for a new one. Okay?”
“You’re the boss, baby,” He grinned. “You said you made them for the boys?”
“One for Dougie and another one for Curt.”
“He goes through them a lot then?”
“Well, he is Curt.”
Dougie’s head came around the back of the truck before Everett could reply, spying his friends deep in conversation, he felt bad for disturbing them.
“Ev, we gotta go. Briefing starts soon.”
“Alright.” He nodded, squeezing Val once more before stepping back. “Dougie, c’mere.”
Eyebrows raised at his friend’s request, the bombardier came to stand at the entrance of the truck, as Val met him at the bottom of the steps.
“Left hand, please.” She smiled, pulling the second braid from her pocket and securing it the same way she had with Everett’s.
“What’s this?” He looked down at her, brows knit together in intrigue.
“Ev will explain, okay?”
“Ten four, Ma’am.” He nodded, giving her that sloppy two finger salute he was famous for.
“Get out of here, Doug. Coffee will be waiting when you boys are done.”
Nodding, Dougie let the thumb of his opposite hand ghost over the thread a moment before grinning and heading back in the direction of where Olive was now talking to Helen.
Everett grinned, before giving her a not so subtle wink, and followed Doug to the briefing room.
It wasn’t long before Meatball had started getting antsy, tugging on his lead as if he knew that Benny was in the hut across the way. The lead rattling against the pole Olive had him tied to every ten seconds as he tries to make a valiant attempt at a jail break.
“Come on, fella,” Olive laughs, taking mercy on the poor dog and untying him. “Want to throw the ball?”
The coveted four letter word starting with B piques his interest immediately as he begins to pant excitedly, jumping back onto his hind legs. His excitement only grows when he sees Olive pull the ball from her pocket. She tosses it gently, keeping it close to the Clubmobile so that Meatball doesn’t run off.
“Why don’t you go over to the hardstand?” Val calls from the hatch of the truck, waiting while a fresh pot of coffee brews for the boys.
“I don’t want to have to traipse all the way over there just to have to come back in ten minutes,” Olive calls back to her. “I want to see them before they go.”
“Anyone in particular you want to see” Val teases as she rounds the front of the truck, joining Olive and Meatball in their little game.
“Hush it up, DiRosano.” Olive winks at her. Handing her the ball so that she can join in, Meatball comes to stand in front of Val, his front paws suddenly up on her chest as he tries to get the ball from her.
“At least he’s behaving today,” Val rolls her eyes as Meatball finally jumps down from where he’d tried to take her down. She throws the ball for him, putting a little more effort behind it than she had meant to, causing the ball to miss the ground completely and fly through the door of the briefing room. Meatball is after it like a shot out of a cannon, not listening as she pleads with him to stop. Tattie was right, she was going to kill DeMarco.
“Shit!” Val says, trying not to panic as the reality of what just happened sinks in. “Damn dog!”
“Fuck sake, Spud Chandler!” Olive sighs, hand clapping over her eyes as she races after Meatball and Val races after her.
They come to a halt just outside the door, Val slamming into Olive’s back as she comes to a vault, spotting Meatball right outside the door, sitting and waiting patiently for his next command.
“Stay right there, buddy,” Olive pleads, hands up and walking towards him.
His response is to sniff the air, and as if he could smell Benny inside the room with all the other men and their cigarette smoke, he bounds through the door with what she could only describe as the greatest of ease.
“Meatball!” Olive whispers, her voice low and stern as she moves to follow him into the briefing room.
“Olive, for fuck sake!. Don’t go in there!”
“But the dog! And the ball!” Olive tries to argue, knowing Chick would have a stroke if Meatball so much as disturbed their briefing.
Val can’t help but sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as her brows furrow in defeat, mumbling something under her breath in Italian. The ball and the dog were both in there, and if they didn’t hurry, an angry Chick Harding would also be in there.
“We should be alright. It’s nothing I won’t tell you in a few weeks when I type up the report for this,” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Olive or herself. “We get the dog, apologize, and get the hell out of there, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Olive gives her exactly the same two finger salute that James Douglass is famous for, and she can’t help but roll her eyes. Birds of a fucking feather it seemed.
“Good. Now show me your prettiest smile.” She looks at Olive, hands on her hips, waiting for her to give a smile. When she finally does, Val thinks maybe they have a shot at this.
“Gorgeous, doll!”
“What’s it for?” Olive asks, relaxing her face and massaging her cheeks for a second.
“Oh, that’s for when Chicky catches us in there and ultimately tells us off.”
—————————————————
“U-Boat pens in Trondheim, Norway!” Chick hollers, standing upon the makeshift stage as the curtain is pulled back to reveal a map. The men in the room cheer in equal enthusiasm, lighting cigarettes and eagerly awaiting the details of the mission ahead of them.
Val and Olive stand in the back of the room, Meatball now in their grasp, they make to turn and leave just as quickly as they came, when Chick announces the details of the mission, and the fort in charge of leading the wing.
“Major Egan will be Command Pilot in Blakely’s fort.” He announces, and as John Egan turns back to make eye contact with Everett, he does a double take at the two figures standing in the back of the room. Val quickly shakes her head, begging him not to say anything, and she’s relieved to see him turn back around and give his attention to the map in front of him. Still, she can’t help but beam with pride, whispering a little that’s my guy as she realizes Everett is in charge of leading all of the men in the room into today’s battle. Just as she moves to grab Meatball’s collar and lead him from the room, the dog lets loose a bark that she’s sure Doc Stover could hear in the medical hut, and she immediately winces.
Silence falls over the room, and Chick, who had been lighting his first cigar of the day, turned to look up, eyes narrowing in annoyance.
“What in the hell is that dog doin’ in here?” His eyes find Benny DeMarco first, and upon realizing that Benny is not in possession of said dog, focuses his gaze on the back of the room.
“Shit,” Olive and Val murmur in unison. “Might need that smile sooner than we thought, doll.”
“Fuck sake, Valencia,” Olive groans, shaking her head.
“Don’t blame me!” She nervously chuckles. “Blame that damn dog.”
“Oh, I am, believe me.” Olive sighs just as Chick walks up to the pair of them.
“Girls!” Chick scolds. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“We’re sorry, Colonel,” Olive says, putting her nice British manners to good use. “The dog…”
“I don’t care,” He says, his voice slightly raised and causing the crowd to look in their direction. Val just manages to catch Curt and Everett looking in their direction. “Get outta here.”
“Yes sir.” Olive replies shakily.
Val can immediately sense the tension rolling off of her as her eyes glaze over. She gives Olive’s hand a quick squeeze before squaring her shoulders and facing Chick head on.
“Chicky,” Val speaks firmly, her tone not one to be mistaken for a damsel in distress. “I threw the ball too hard, it’s my fault Meatball ran in here. You know we wouldn’t have come just for fun.” She’s trying her best to be firm, but also butter him up at the same time. Tucking an errant curl back into her headscarf, Val gives what can only be described as a brilliant smile, and if Olive’s snort disguised as a cough is anything to go on, she’s doing a damn good job of it.
“Alright, girls,” He softens, pointing his cigar in their direction as Red carries on with the briefing, the Massachusetts native describing something being shown on the projector in an attempt to get the men to stop focusing on the girls and back on the mission. “I’ll let y’all off, but don’t let me catch you in here again.”
“You got it, Chicky.” Val grins, giving his shoulder a friendly pat.
“And stop calling me Chicky.” He groans, turning back towards where he had been originally so he could join Red.
“Not a chance!” Val calls back, tugging both Olive and Meatball with her out the door, grateful to have avoided what could have been real trouble for the pair of them, and the damn dog.
Val’s pouring a cup of coffee when she hears her name being called. Looking up, she spots Everett looking less than pleased, hands on his hips and brows pinched together as if he’d taken a page out of her book. Mentally filing away how handsome he looks in that moment, she gives him her full attention.
“Val, you got a second?”
“Yes, honey,” The words saccharine sweet as she moves past Olive. With a roll of her eyes, she turns before descending the steps. “I’m in trouble.”
“You look far too excited at that prospect, Val.” Olive shakes her head, knowing her friend.
“You never know what the consequences might be.” She winks as she reaches the bottom step.
“What was all that about?” Everett looks down at her, hands still on his hips.
“You mean back there?”
“Valencia, please…” He sighed, and at his use of her full name, her eyes snapped up to his, blazing.
“Are you mad at me?” The question came out sharp, her eyebrows meeting her hairline. “For that?!”
“I’m not mad,” He softened his gaze, waiting for her to do the same. “I just…”
“Everett…”
“I just want to shield you from as much as possible. Protect you, the way you want to protect me.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll see all of that in a few days when Harding pulls me in to type it up for him.”
“I know that, but, if you can go a few more days without seeing it.”
“Baby, I’m going to worry whether I know where it is you’re going or not. Nothing will change that until this war is over.”
“Just, don’t go sneaking into the briefing room again, okay?”
“That’s on you then, if Meatball gets in and Harding goes nuts.”
“No, that’s on Benny,” Everett winked, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her flush against his side. “Now, how about a cup of coffee and a good luck kiss.”
“In that order, Captain?” She peered up at him.
“Please.” Leaning down, he stole a kiss from her, just as Dougie and Olive were making their way to the truck.
They couldn’t wait around, the girls had poured their coffee quickly, and just as Val handed Everett’s cup off to him, Bubbles had come up to the truck wrapped in a blanket, his flight gear underneath, and shivering up a storm.
“Bubbles?” Helen looked at him, nudging Val to join her at the window.
“Holy shit, Bubbles, you can’t fly!” Val exclaimed, getting the attention of both Everett and Douglass.
“I can, Miss. Val, don’t you worry.” His teeth chattering together as he spoke, skin turning paler as the seconds passed.
“Bubbles, not for nothing but I’m tired of being told not to worry.”
“Bubbles, she’s right, you’re not going up,” Everett came to stand next to him, his face displaying sympathy for his sick navigator but worried over who would be in the seat if he wasn’t. “Fuck…”
Just then, John Egan came strolling over for his pre-flight coffee and, if Val had to guess, a pack of cigarettes or gum. She gestured to Helen to get his coffee ready while she dug around under the window for a pack of Lucky Strikes and some Juicy Fruit.
“Bucky.” She grinned, the cigarettes in one hand and gum in the other, and extended them to him.
“Your girl’s a peach, Blakely, you know that?” Bucky chuckled, taking both of the offered items before pocketing them so he could retrieve his coffee from Helen.
“She sure is,” Everett smiled, before turning to face John Egan with concern. “We’ve got a problem, though, Major.”
“What?”
“Bubbles,” Everett gestured to the shivering navigator who Douglass was practically keeping upright at this point. “Sick as a dog.”
“I can fly…”
“The hell you can,” Bucky sighed, looking back at Everett. “Who else we got?”
In the end, it had been Harry Crosby to replace Bubbles in Just-A Snappin’s navigator seat. The brown eyed man’s nerves caused him to shiver just as badly as Bubbles had before he was carted off to Doc Stover in the med hut. After the boys had dispersed from the truck, Val had found a brief moment to breathe before Curt was bounding over to her, crush cap at a jaunty angle, grin on his face.
“The last thing you need is caffeine!” She had scolded him, handing the coffee over anyway.
“Need to see my best pal!”
“Don’t let Dickie hear you say that.” She shook her head, knowing Dickie could most definitely hear him from where he stood getting his coffee from Helen.
“I know where I rank, Val, don’t you worry. You’re still his number one.” Dickie laughed, thanking Helen for the coffee before walking past and heading for the truck.
“Lucky me,” She rolled her eyes. “Hey, hold on Curt.”
“Yea?”
“Here…” She handed over the braid identical to the ones she had given Ev and Dougie earlier, watching as his grin nearly split his face.
“Rough night,” He mused. “How’d you know?”
“I know you Curt. Now go on, be safe up there, please.”
“See you in a jiff, Pal.” He waved, jogging to catch up with Dickie and the rest of his crew. She could just make out Curt asking Dickie to tie the red string around his wrist as the truck peeled away with him and his crew in the back. Santa Maria please protect my boys.
——————————————
It had been a morning. Olive had decided, with all the excitement of the morning, to take Meatball down to the hardstand so that he could run around with Kenny and Winks. She had snagged two of the leftover donuts for the ground crew boys and headed off, leaving Val, and Helen to clean up the truck. Tattie was with the Supply Officer trying to figure out what they could and couldn’t get, and leave the girls’ list with him in the hopes that they’d get what they needed.
Helen was packing up the donuts that had been left, and was brewing a fresh pot of coffee just for the girls, one for the boys already brewed and in the Interrogation Hut, when Val had decided to start wiping down the counters and putting away some of the sundries. A cigarette wedged between her teeth, she began scrubbing the countertop, wiping away the spilled sugar and milk, pushing the crushed and empty cups into the trash, and repeating the process all over again. Still uneasy from the night before, her mind going over and over the conversation she had with Everett outside the club. She kept going back to him saying we can be scared together, and she truly believed him. She was scared on the ground, and he was without a doubt, scared more than her up in the sky.
She hadn’t heard Olive come back, or her footsteps as she climbed back into the truck. She just barely heard her calling her name.
“Valencia,” Olive urges for a third time, a plume of smoke escaping her mouth as she speaks. “You’ve already done that one.”
“R-right.” She stutters, wiping her wet hands on her jumpsuit. She watches as Olive stubs out her own cigarette and starts carrying the donuts Helen had been organizing into the interrogation room. Val immediately darts toward her to grab them.
“I got it, Val,” She soothes, holding the tray to her body. “Just get the door for me.”
“Got it!” She replies, voice a couple of octaves higher than what she normally sounds like.
“You okay, chicken?” Olive turns to her after she’s placed the tray on the table.
“Yeah. Just anxious.” Val takes a long pull from her cigarette, surprised it hasn’t burned out yet, before slumping back against the wall. The waiting was the worst.
“I know, but they'll be okay. They're going to be back before you know it.” Olive tries to reassure her as best she can, but Val can see the fear behind her eyes, and knows for a moment that she’s not alone.
Tattie wandered in on the heels of their chat, eyes falling on the table set with the donuts for the boys, and smiling at the work her girls had done.
“Thanks, Ol,” She says, patting her on the shoulder before turning to Val. “Val, can you set out the whiskey?”
“Sure, I'm on it!” She replies, the words rushing out of her mouth, her body tight with the same anxiety they all see in Harry Crosby.
“Need a hand?” Helen strolls in, setting cream and sugar next to the coffee she had put out earlier.
“I've got it, thanks Helen.” Val grins at her, picking up a glass to wipe down.
When the familiar, loud rumble is heard in the distance, Val watches as Olive steps outside momentarily, before hearing Smokey shout over the noise.
“I see em!” He yells, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Val, they're back!” Olive calls to her, poking her head in from the doorway.
Val stops suddenly, the glass slipping from her hands and shattering into pieces on the floor.
“Oh fuck!” She groans. She bends down to begin picking up the shards, when Olive is suddenly at her side, swatting her hand away from the broken glass.
“Leave it,” She says softly. “I'll clean it.” Taking the cloth from Val’s hand, she grips her arm for a moment, the two sharing a look.
“Go,” She murmurs. “Go see him.”
She feels as if her whole chest might cave in if she waits any longer to see Everett and Curt.
“Helen, go with her, please,” Olive motions for her to join Val, before speaking the next part softly, only for Helen to hear. “Just in case.”
“What about you?” Helen raises an eyebrow at her knowingly.
“I'm just fine here.” She reassures her, but both Val and Helen can see that her eyes are telling a different story. Helen nods, threading her arm through Val’s before grinning at Olive, making her way to the door.
“We'll be right back.”
Once outside, Val begins to count the number of planes she sees coming into view. The rumble grows louder the closer they get to the runway, she watches as one, two, three… her grip on Helen’s hand tightening as she sees the rest of them approach. Eight, nine, ten…
“He’ll be here, honey, don’t you worry.” Helen turns to her, her big brown eyes full of hope, and Val can’t help but smile.
“Not sure what I’d do without you,” Val sighs, gaze now focused on where the trucks are approaching. “Without any of you.”
“Oh stop, we’ve all got each other.”
The first truck rolled to a stop at the bottom of the approach to the hut, and Val had to squint in the sun to see who it was. It was Gale Cleven and Benny, the pair looking utterly exhausted as they trudged towards the hut. Benny offered the girls a wave and a half smile, Val nodding her head towards the door.
“She’s inside…”
“Thanks Val.”
Benny disappeared through the door, and Val watched as the next group of men headed their way, all looking much the same as Buck and DeMarco. Crank, John Brady and their respective crews were next, all shuffling into the hut for a moment of respite. Doc Stover was at the door giving each man the once over before allowing them through, and Val could just make out the sound of someone grumbling at being told to report to the hospital after interrogation.
“Where are they…” She murmured under her breath. “Come on boys, please.”
“Hey, hey, look…” Helen was pointing out towards the approach, a smile on her face as she Val clocked Everett jump from the truck, hat in his hand, hair mused and curls falling over his forehead. That damn Lucky Strike tucked behind his ear.
“Oh thank god!” Val heaved a sigh at the sight of him, body relaxing for only a moment.
As Everett approached, Val released her grip on Helen just as Everett threw his arm over her shoulder. A heavy sigh, different from the one in the Clubmobile this morning, left his body. His lips pressed to the top of her head softly as he guided her away from the door, towards where it was a bit quieter.
“Give us a minute, Helen?” Everett asked her, and Val could tell something had happened up there.
“I’ll have a drink waiting for you, Ev.” Helen nodded, making her way back into the hut to join Olive and Tattie.
“Ev?”
“I need to tell you something,” He spoke lowly. “And I need you to listen before you react, okay?”
“You’re scaring me…”
“Curt wasn’t with us on the return.”
Her entire body ran ice cold at the words, the breath leaving her as if someone had pushed a pin in her lungs and released all of the air. Curt? Reckless as he may be on the ground, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything stupid while he was up in the air, least of all, not coming back.
“His fort took a lot of damage,” Everett continued. “He had a few engine fires, and there was so much flak up there…”
“Is he…did he…”
“We got him over Scotland,” Ev grabbed her hands to stop them from shaking. “Croz was amazing, and plotted a whole route so that Curt could put his fort down over land, somewhere safe.”
“Scotland…”
“The last we heard over the radios, he was making an approach to crash land.”
“Did you see him land?”
“No, I didn’t,” He sighed. “I’m sorry, I wish I knew more honey.”
“Oh god.” Her voice sounded far away, her mind swimming with every possibility of where Curt could be. If he was alive, safe, had he been captured. Was Scotland really the best place for him to land? What did she know? She wasn’t the pilot, she was the coffee and donuts girl.
“Come on…”
She just barely registered that Everett was leading her inside. Didn’t pick up Olive calling her name yet again, or the whiskey glass being pressed into her hand. She felt completely numb, and would be, until Curt came strolling back up to her with that stupid grin on his face. God wouldn’t be so cruel as to take away the only person resembling a sibling in her life, in such a way, would he? Santa Maria, please protect him.
She’s not sure how, but she finds herself sitting in the Officers Club with the girls that night. Vaguely, she remembers Olive walking her outside after Everett had been ushered into interrogation by Chicky, and worrying her mothers Rosary beads between her fingers as she smoked half a pack of cigarettes back in their hut. She’s not sure how she managed to get ready, but when she exited the hut, Everett, Dougie and Harry Crosby were waiting outside for her, Helen and Olive.The walk had been silent, Val tucked under Everett’s arm as they entered the club and sought out their usual table.
Now, she sat with her fourth fifth drink in front of her, Everett seemingly always there with a new one as soon as she’s taken the last sip.
The girls were doing their best to keep her mind occupied on anything other than waiting for news on Curt, and even Benny had dropped Meatball off at the table; the Husky immediately sensing that something wasn’t right with his favorite girls. The band played on as usual, music filling every corner of the club, so she was surprised when she heard Red’s voice carry across the room, hollering for Buck Cleven. She’s even more surprised when Everett comes back from the bar empty handed, his eyes brighter than she’d seen them since he landed that afternoon.
“Come on…” He urges, taking her hand and moving to pull her up from the chair.
“What? Ev, what!”
Before he can answer her, she hears Buck Cleven’s voice booming from where he’s standing at the bar, one word to end all of her troubles.
“Curt!”
Val stands so abruptly, the chair tips backward and clatters to the floor but she doesn’t care. All she cares about is that Everett is pulling her towards the bar where Gale Cleven holds the receiver of the phone between his ear and Bucky’s; the pair of them are yelling frantically down the phone.
“It’s gonna be cold tonight, Curt!” Bucky yells.
“John says he misses his little spoon!” Gale shouts down the line, and she can’t help but roll her eyes at the antics of the boys.
Everett moves to get Bucky’s attention gesturing for him to hand the phone over to Val before either of the two Buck’s decide to hang up. Bucky’s hand grabs Gale’s wrist, and pulls the receiver from his grasp before handing it over to Valencia.
“Curt!”
“Did I worry ya too much?”
“Please tell me you’re in one piece and that I don’t have to write home…”
“All pieces accounted for, Val, I promise.”
“Good. Are you safe?”
“Safe and well on my way to being drunk.”
“Christ sake. Well then, go on, get drunk with your new friends.”
“You’re my number one, always. Hey, thanks for the bit of red. Saved my life.”
Ev places a kiss to her temple just as she hangs up, having heard most of the conversation. Val grins as she turns to Bucky and Gale, both of them watching her with a fondness she was sure she had never seen on either of their faces. At least not directed towards her. Throwing an arm around each of them, she hugged them close, because she knew it was Bucky in the Command Pilot’s seat that day, and Gale who had alerted the rest of the wing to Curt’s fort slowing down, thus sticking with him to the end.
“Well?!” Helen’s eyes were wide as Val and Everett made their way back to the table, cocktails in hand and smiles on their faces.
“He’s safe,” Val breathed out another sigh of relief before rolling her eyes. “And drunk with his Scottish hosts.”
“Of course he is.” Tattie shook her head, but smiled as she ticked off a win for their group in her mind. More moments like this. There should be more of them.
“Drink up!” Ev raised his glass, their friends joining him.
“To that pain in my ass!” Val cheered.
The night rolls on and five cocktails turn into seven. Val has moved from her chair to Everett’s lap, a cigarette in one hand and the other holding his. When he didn’t have her out on the dance floor cutting a rug, they were with their friends. Even Meatball had perked up, and was currently vying for attention from everyone. The news of Curt’s safety spread amongst the rest of the men, and the atmosphere in the club seems to be charged with lightning. Everyone's a little brighter, more relaxed, smiling a little wider.
“Bike race in the mess hall!” Graham comes hurtling around the corner, arms flailing as he yells into the crowd. “Who’s in?”
A chorus of agreements and hollers as the men in the club leave their drinks and descend on the mess hall. Val clambers from Everett’s lap, giving him a wink as she grabs Olive with one hand and Helen with the other. The three of them run in the direction of the crowd, giggling the entire way. They push their way into the mess hall, cheeks red and eyes bright as they try to find a good spot to view the race. Tattie joins them a moment later, drink in hand and face just as red as the rest of them in excitement as they settle against the wall.
The boys are all pushing their way in with their bikes, the sound of shouts and tires screeching against the linoleum filling the air as one of the men not racing begins collecting money from the onlookers. They see Everett, Benny and Douglass all push their way as close to the front as they can get, Croz already on his bike. When Douglass spots the girls, he hollers over to Benny in a bid to get Olive’s attention.
“Hey DeMarco!” He yells, a few rows behind where Benny is. “Whoever wins gets to walk the pretty girl back!”
“You’re on, Doug!” Benny yells back, turning and giving Olive and the girls a cheeky grin.
“Jesus Christ…” Val hears Olive sigh, and doesn’t need to look over to know she’s rolling her eyes in that British way she usually does.
Val is watching Everett as he mounts his bike. Croz is on his left, the navigator struggling to find his balance on the bike as he grabs Douglass for support. If she hears Dougie ask Croz to give him a push ahead of Benny, she doesn’t say anything, wanting to see how it all plays out. She blows Ev a kiss and displays a cheeky smile for luck before she turns back towards the girls; just as Bucky Egan and Gale Cleven push their way to the front.
“Rank has its privileges, boys!” Cleven calls over the din of the room, bumping shoulders with John Brady as he settles on his bike.
“I see money changing hands,” Egan points over towards where the betting is taking place. “That better be going on me!”
Graham stands in front of the boys, whistling to get their attention before he begins giving them their route.
“Alright, are y’all ready?!”
The crowd yells almost louder than before, and suddenly Graham’s got his pistol in the air, a single shot fired into the roof to signal the start of the race.
“YEEHAW!”
The boys all push off, Douglass yelling for Croz who’s wobbling on his bike as he yells with the rest of them GO GO GO. Egan and Cleven are in the lead, no surprise, while Brady is hot on Egan’s heels. Everett, Douglass and Benny are all neck and neck, Croz pulling up the rear. The four girls are shouting with all their might, throats raw from screaming for the boys, drinks sloshing around them and cigarettes burning unattended between their fingers.
“Come on, Egan, ya lard ass!” Gale shouts, goading Bucky on to try and catch up to him as they begin their second lap out of the Officers Mess.
Even Kidd and Veal, who’ve perched themselves off to the side, are getting into the excitement of the race. It’s when Cleven takes the last turn that he skids off his bike, crashing to the ground in a fit of laughter as Bucky topples off right behind him. The rest of the boys follow suit, all of them racing to their feet to try and cross the finish line first when a shrill siren cuts the atmosphere of the room like a knife.
“Stop!” Jack Kidd yells, hopping off his perch and waving his long arms to get the attention of the crowd. “Don’t you hear the siren? Everyone to the shelters!”
Bikes forgotten on the ground, the boys all begin to move towards the exit, the girls all linking arms to stay together. They begin the walk towards the shelters, a hefty distance from where they currently are, when Dougie and Benny slide up on either side of Olive. Val watches, amused, until a pair of hands fall on her waist, pulling her flush against the chest of the owner.
“Sneaking up on me?” She grins, though he can’t see it.
“Not sure I could,” Ev whispers in her ear, leaving a gentle kiss to the underside of her jaw. “You’d smell my aftershave.”
Turning in his arms, Val allows him to guide her as she walks backward a few paces, her hands gripping his forearms.
“Let’s go somewhere.” She grins wildly, curls falling from their usually perfectly pinned style, eyes shining.
“Okay, sure,” He humors her. “Where should we go? Paris? Rome? New York?”
“Everett, come on, I’m being serious!” She gently slaps his arm.
“So am I,” He smiles. ““Where do you want to go?”
“The mess hall, I’m starving. I skipped dinner.”
“Val…”
“Please, Ev? I want a snack…”
“Jesus you’re adorable when you’re drunk sweetheart.”
“Can I be adorable with a snack then, please?”
“Okay, let’s go.” He conceded, knowing she probably hadn’t eaten anything after finding out that Curt was somewhere else. The least he could do was make sure she didn’t go to bed hungry.
——————————————————
Breaking off from the rest of the group, the pair of them began running hand in hand towards the opposite direction of the shelters, laughing like kids the entire time. Checking that no one was watching, they slipped back inside the now vacant mess hall; the only sign that it had been occupied were the bikes still on the ground and the lights that had remained on during the hasty exit. The only noise in the hut was the sound of Val’s heels on the floor and their laughter as they tried to catch their breath. Leading Everett towards where the girls always pack away any leftover donuts from the Clubmobile, she guides him through a door and into the kitchen. The moonlight is giving just enough light to see where they’re going, the kitchen dark, and unfamiliar territory to Everett.
“There should be…” Val bends at the waist to pull out the covered box that usually sat in the Clubmobile. “Perfect!”
“What’d you find?” Ev turns to her, taking the box from her hands to set it on the counter.
“Donuts!”
“I’ll tell you what, sweetheart,” He pulled the towel off and tossed it to the side, snatching one from the box. “I did not think I’d be eating as many donuts during the war as I actually am.”
“Well, I didn’t think I would be serving coffee and donuts to pilots, so I guess we’re both surprised at the outcome.”
“What were you doing before all this?” Everett asked.
“Suddenly he’s curious,” She teased. “I was a secretary, but don’t tell Chicky. For the Federal Reserve Bank.”
Hopping up on the counter, Val plucked the donut from Everett’s hand, breaking it in half before popping it into her mouth. Red lips pursed and eyes closed as she enjoyed her snack, she didn’t notice Everett move closer, standing between her legs, until his hands softly slid up her thighs.
“Happy?”
“Oh, I’m very happy,” Her eyes fluttered open, catching his gaze. Taking the other half of the donut, she brought it up to his mouth, holding it between two manicured fingers. “Are you happy?”
His answer came in the form of a bite of the food she was currently offering him, his lips grazing her fingers before pulling away, eyes never leaving hers. Waiting until there was no food in his mouth, he leaned in closer, fingers gripping her a little tighter. His lips just barely touched hers before they settled on the corner of her mouth. It was a gentle kiss, and when he pulled back, Val could see the glimmer in his hazel orbs and the smirk on his lips.
“You had a crumb…” He kissed the other side of her mouth for good measure, not one to leave any spot untouched.
She gazed up at him through her lashes, heat instantly pooling low in her belly. How could sharing a snack and a kiss cause her to feel emotions so strongly, that she wanted him to lay her out on the counter and have his way with her while no one was around.
“Ev…”
“No one’s around to interrupt us this time.” He whispered, and she was sure he felt the shudder that ripped through her body from head to toe.
“I think…” She breathed, trying with all her might to focus on the words that were on the tip of her tongue. His teeth gently closed over her earlobe, warm breath fanning across her cheek.
“What do you think? Hmm?”
“That we should pick up where we left off.”
Her jacket was off in an instant as he kissed the air from her lungs. One hand holding the back of her neck, fingers tangled in what remained of the evening's hairdo as the other moved down the front of her blouse, unbuttoning each little white button painstakingly slow. Her hands made quick work of pulling his tie loose, his own jacket discarded somewhere before he had gotten to work on undressing her. Even in the dim lighting of the room, he’s able to clearly see the soft lines of her body as he pushed her shirt from her shoulders. The white lace of her brassiere standing out against her skin, breaths coming out harsh in the near silence of the room as she sat on the counter and continued to bring Everett to the same state of undress as she was. All she could think of was having her hands on him, feeling his skin under her palms, the ropes of muscle she knew were under his clothes every time he held her on the dance floor now exposed to her.
It was a tentative first touch as she slid her hands up the planes of his chest, a smattering of soft hair just under his collar bones as she let herself explore what she could. Val could feel Everett’s eyes on her; his sharp hazel gaze watching as she let her hands roam across his skin, across his clavicle, down over his arms until she reached his hands. Those hands that made her feel safe every time they held hers; soft and gentle when they were together, skilled and agile when he was piloting his fort and keeping his crew safe. They were both of those things, and still she loved them most when they were holding her. Lifting his left hand, she began to pepper kisses to each of his fingers, appreciating one of her favorite parts of him without words. The part of him that kept her safe. Sharing with him feelings that she wasn’t sure she could put into words yet, because even she wasn’t sure how to explain it. Only that she felt content when he was near her, a feeling that evaded her for so long she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel it again. To finally feel it now, Val wanted to grab it with both hands and never let go.
“Can I…?” Val looked up from her task, lips still pressed, unmoving, to the palm of his hand. His question sitting between them, heavy in the air.
“Please…” It came out in a whisper, fading into a whine as his hands fell to her waist, tugging her closer to the edge of the counter so that he could do with her what she had done with him.
Appreciating every dip and curve his eyes and mouth could find, Everett set to work with expressing his own feelings, deep and seated within him were words he too was not sure he could explain out loud, and still, he knew his actions could do it for him. His mouth blazed a trail from her lips, down the column of her throat, across her clavicle then over the swell of her breasts. The hands on her waist traveled a path almost identical to the one that night in his plane, stopping just short of where he had been dreaming of having them ever since she guided him there that first time. He felt like he had won the lottery when she helped guide him the rest of the way once more, her legs spreading just a bit wider to accommodate his body getting closer to her own. When she slid the straps of her brassiere down, gaze focused entirely on him, he became a man possessed. His hands moved to her back, mapping out the planes of her exposed skin until they settled on the clasp at the back of the delicate white garment shielding her from his eyes. Ducking his head down, his lips sucked a delicate mark at the juncture of her jaw, just below her ear, tongue laving over the spot just as his fingers slipped the clasp open, the lace falling slack and pooling between their bodies.
“My god,” He groaned, wanting to take in every detail, every breath she took as her body reacted to just his gaze. “Look at you. A god damn goddess.”
Val wasn’t sure words would suffice what she wanted him to do, so instead, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, slanting her mouth over his and kissing him with every ounce of herself that she could muster. With his mouth occupied, Everett let his hands carefully slide over her, breasts filling his palms as if they were made just for him to hold. She moaned into his mouth as his thumbs brushed over her already pebbled nipples, and so he did it again and again if only to hear the sweet sounds she made.
“Beautiful,” He growled, with his face nuzzled into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, he paid close attention as she reacted to his touch. “You and those sweet sounds you make.”
“Ev…” She breathed his name, head tipping back as he gave her a gentle pinch before softening his touch once more.
“I wonder what other sounds I can pull from you, sweetheart.”
“Yes…please.”
Slowly, as if he was afraid to scare her away, he dropped one hand to her waist before letting it slide down to her thigh. With her skirt riding up on its own, his fingers gently teased the exposed skin above where her pantyhose and garter belt met. Her flesh was pliable under his nimble fingers, and he took his time ghosting over her, soaking up every second he was allowed to be exposed to her so vulnerably. By the time he reached the apex of her thighs and felt her shiver against him, he knew he was going to have to make good on her request from the last time they were alone. Don’t stop. But he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to control himself if that was the request- if he wouldn’t take her in the cockpit of a plane, would he be able to live with knowing their first time together was on the kitchen counter of the officers mess hall?
“Val, honey…”
“I know,” She breathed, dropping her forehead against his chest, lips pressing kisses across the exposed skin. “I know…”
“You have to tell me what you want, sweetheart.” He pressed his thumb against her, teasing, testing the waters, and watched in awe as she pressed herself closer to him, keening under his touch.
“I want you…”
“I want you too, honey,” His thumb now moving at a steady pace over her clothed center, he couldn't help but watch her in amazement. “God you look so pretty like this.”
“Everett, please… please don’t stop…”
He continued to drive her higher. Her breaths uneven and ragged, her hands clutching him, face pressed against his chest. Had she not been sitting on the counter her legs would surely have given out by now. Gently, he used his free hand to urge her back, supporting her so that she wasn’t laying out on the counter, but no longer hiding her face from him. Her neck and chest covered in a thin sheen of sweat, eyes pinched shut and red lips parted, it was taking all of his self control not to strip the both of them completely bare and take her right there. But he promised himself he would do it properly with her. She deserved all of the proper things.
“Open your eyes for me, pretty. Come on, let me see you come apart.”
She was crumbling under his hands as soon as the words left his mouth, crying out so loud that he covered her mouth and swallowed her moans so no one else dared hear the beautiful sound. He held her as she came down from her high, hands rubbing up and down her back, peppering kisses across her face, down her jaw, before settling on her lips. He would repeat the process for as long as it took for her to come back to herself. Back to him. Then again, she was closer now than she’d ever been to him, and he’d fight tooth and nail to never lose it.
The air around them had been charged for the better part of the night, sparks following their every move and lighting their way. Now, in a half debauched state, holding onto one another, the sparks continued to orbit, settling softly around them as they took refuge in each other's arms in a time of darkness, pain and loss.
Yes. This would be their safe place during the war. Together.
Part Five
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!
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
A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!
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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.
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.
There are days at Thorpe Abbotts that some would call low maintenance. Those are the days where Benny DeMarco is just a boy with his dog, John Egan gets to play baseball, and Everett Blakely is just a guy who gets to romance a pretty girl the best way he can given the circumstances.
Part One
Follow along with the Eight To The Bar Playlist
Warnings: Making out with Blakely should be a warning in itself, so, that and some heavy petting. Proceed as you see fit.
Some days, life on base moved quickly. There was the hustle of early mornings, brewing enough coffee to indeed fuel an army, and make sure that each man was sent off with a wink and a smile before a mission. The sounds of engines roaring from the hardstand, the ground crew shouting at each other as each plane taxied and ultimately, took off into the clouds. Those were the days that seemed to never end; waiting for the return with bated breath, counting the planes as they approached the air field, looking for red or green flares to indicate if a fort was carrying wounded onboard.
Then there were the days that seemed to stretch into nothingness. Breakfast in the Mess Hall was a relaxed affair. The boys would sit around and sip their coffee leisurely, the Red Cross girls all crowded at a table near the back, gossiping about this and that, until one of the boys would walk by and silence them with a wink and a smile. They would spend those days helping out the nurses in the hospital, refilling and restocking what they’d need when a mission day would roll around. They would prepare what they could on the Clubmobile truck, or indulge themselves in some reading, or a walk into town if the weather was favorable. Some of the girls who were handy with a needle and thread would offer to patch up the stray jacket, or sew a patch to someone's sleeve if they needed. None of the Flyboy’s were going to do that themselves if they could help it. On days like those, Val would often be in Chick Harding’s office, to type out the odd letter or mission debrief that wasn’t too gory.
“You can’t see that one,” He’d said one day. “It’s too much.”
“I grew up with Curt Biddick. Nothing is too much.”
From that point on, they’d come to respect each other in some weird way. Val suspected it had to do with the fact that he typed slower than her grandmother back in New York and she couldn’t type at all.
Today was one of those days. The base was a bit relaxed; Ken Lemmons and his crew were working tirelessly to patch up the forts that had come back from the last raid. Some of the pilots were hanging around the hardstand, watching to make sure their planes were in good shape, asking questions or simply keeping the ground crew company. Benny DeMarco was playing fetch with Meatball in the field, taking advantage of the rare sunshine. Tattie had coerced Bucky into driving her down to the hardstand with coffee and donuts for the boys working, and Helen was helping stock the hospital. Val had been summoned to Harding’s office after breakfast, and as lunchtime rolled around, she was putting the finishing touches on the report of a mission that had been green flares on the return.
Pushing back from the typewriter, she stretched her arms out, before standing, pulling the paper from behind the ribbon, and stacking it on top of the others she had already completed. Chick was sitting at his desk, puffing away at his cigar, reading the paper when she approached.
“Val, you should have been a correspondence gal instead of joining the Red Cross.” He grinned, hand outstretched to accept her offering of the reports.
“And miss out on making coffee and donuts for you fellas?” She rolled her eyes with a sarcastic grin, folding her hands under her bust. “Is that all you got for me today?”
“Yea, go on. Looks like Biddick is lingering outside, kids probably waiting for you.” He craned his head back to peer out the window, spotting Curt sitting on the stairs of the control tower, smoking a cigarette.
“Pain in my ass.” She shook her head with a sigh, and offered a wave as she turned to leave the office.
“You always call him that.” Chick called after her.
“Because he is!” She called back from down the hall, not missing the slight scowl from some of the secretaries. Apparently having the affections of both Curt and Ev Blakely had put her out of their favor, in some strange way. They didn’t mind when she brought them the leftover donuts from the truck though; then she was in their favor it seemed.
Pushing the door open, she immediately spotted Curt, still on the stairs of the control tower. Walking across the path towards him, she stood, blocking the sun from his face with her hands on her hips. Just as she looked down at him, he looked up, a cheeky smile on his face, his crush cap sitting at a jaunty angle on his head.
“Heya!”
“Hi Curt…”
“Why do you sound so put off, eh? I just wanted to say hi to my best friend!”
“You want something.”
“I can’t just say hi?”
“Sure you can” She began walking towards the direction of the Red Cross hut, and Curt quickly jumped to his feet to follow her. “But it’s usually accompanied by a favor, so spit it out.”
“Val…” He groaned.
“Curtis Biddick. Spit it out.”
He heaved a giant sigh, before launching into the favor she knew he needed from her.
“You uh, remember the other night at the pub?”
“When you clocked that RAF clown? Sure, I do.”
“I ripped my shirt.” He ducked his head down, looking anywhere but at Val.
“Fuck sake, Curt…”
“Could you please, please, be a doll and patch it up for me?”
“Your mother would give you a clip on the ear if she heard that.”
“I said please!”
“No, that you tore your shirt fighting.”
“Oh…” He whispered, and she could see him fighting the urge to get melancholy for home.
“Bring it by the hut after dinner and I’ll see what I can do.” She had finally conceded.
“You’re the greatest, ya know that?”
“So you like to remind me,” She stopped outside the hut, turning to face him. “Not that I’m not enjoying this conversation, Curt, but this is where I leave you.”
“Yeah alright, bye doll face!” He tipped his hat and gave her an exaggerated half bow, before turning and heading in the opposite direction of the Red Cross hut.
Just as she was about to push the door open to the hut, a jeep came rounding the corner, the gravel crunching under its tires. She was quite surprised to see Helen in the passenger seat, Harry Crosby behind the wheel and Bubbles in the back.
“Well, look at this trio!” She grinned as Harry stopped the jeep in front of her.
“Val, get in!” Helen grinned, waving her hand wildly. “We’re headed down to the hardstand!”
“What’s going on down there?” She conceded to Helen’s request, climbing into the jeep and settling next to Bubbles, who tossed an arm over her shoulder almost instantly.
“Uh, Bubbles?”
“Croz has a lead foot. Trust me.”
Nodding, Val leaned forward just a bit so that she could speak to Helen.
“So why are we going to the hardstand?”
“Well, DeMarco was playing fetch with Meatball, but when Bucky showed up, it turned into a small ball game with some of the boys.” Val didn’t miss the wink that Helen threw her way, indicating that a certain Captain Blakely was likely to be down there with the other men, and that Val might like to witness the sight for herself.
“We all know how Egan is when it comes to baseball…” Val rolled her eyes, one hand gripping the seat as Croz took a particularly sharp turn. Bubbles tightened his grip on her shoulder, and she didn't miss the knowing look he gave her as if to say I told you so. In a bid to distract herself from Croz’s formidable driving, she continued the conversation.
“You two plan on joining the game?” Val turned to look at Bubbles.
“Oh no, but it’s good fun to see the Major pretend he’s Mickey Mantle.” Bubbles snickered, loosening his grip on her shoulder as Croz turned onto the road that led to the hardstand, the jeep coming to a stop.
It was no surprise that John Egan had organized a semi professional- his words- shirts versus skins ball game that had Gale Cleven shaking his head from where he was perched on his own jeep. The Major looked like an extra from Test Pilot, but that wasn’t immediately what pulled Val’s attention away from the trio she was with. It was Everett Blakely standing in the makeshift outfield, uniform shirt unbuttoned, green army issue tank tucked into his trousers. His hair, normally styled to perfection, had come free of the gel, and was curling over his forehead. His hazel eyes were hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses and he was laughing at something Hambone had said. When the bombardier caught sight of her, his sharp elbow had lodged itself in Everett’s ribs, the pilot scowling at his friend before following the other man's gaze. His grin widened as soon as he spotted Val.
The brunette perched on the hood of a jeep in her Red Cross jumpsuit, legs tucked underneath her criss cross applesauce, her red lips stretched into a smile as she laughed at something Helen had said. He watched as Tattie bounded over towards the other two girls, the trio now squeezing to make room so they could all watch comfortably from the hood of the jeep. Croz and Bubbles remained with them. They kept offering up commentary that he couldn't hear but wished desperately that he could, because they kept making Val laugh, and Everett Blakely wanted to be the one to do that. Especially on a day like today, with the sun shining across the airfield, the forts sitting pretty on the hardstand like statues, everyone was relaxed for a moment, and there was a pretty girl that he wanted to give all of his time to. He was so lost in the daydream that he barely heard Brady yelling for him to look out, almost missed the baseball flying at his head, and was almost out for the count had Hambone not pushed him out of the way to grab it before it hit the ground.
“Christ, Blakely!”
“Sorry!” He hollered, looking between Ham and Brady with apologetic eyes.
“Stop making eyes at Val,” Hambone mumbled under his breath so only Ev could hear him. “You get knocked in the head, you’re going to see Smokey, not to the Red Cross hut, dummy.”
Everett winced then, realizing that the last place he wanted to land was the hospital under the watchful eye of Doc Stover and the nurses, because he had been careless. That would get him nowhere with Val except farther away than where he wanted to be. Chancing a glance in her direction, he found her gaze focused on him, the sly smile on her lips telling him she had caught him staring, and watched him almost take a baseball to his head. With a slight shake of her head, she gestured for him to focus back on what he was doing as Ken Lemmons made a valiant attempt at scoring a run. In the end, the ground crew chief had been unsuccessful in his at bat, and Bucky had shouted for the end of the inning.
“SEVENTH INNING STRETCH!” He called across the field, gathering those in the outfield to join the rest of the men around the cluster of jeeps.
“Christ Bucky, I’m standing right here.” Tattie scowled up at him, his shouting having been from his spot directly beside her.
“Sorry Tat…”
“Yea, yea, always sorry.” She shoved him playfully.
Val hadn’t noticed Everett come up behind her on the left, until he was leaning beside her, lighting a cigarette.
“Better be careful out there.” She turned to him with a wink.
“Can’t help it,” He blew a puff of smoke out in front of him. “Saw something pretty.”
“Flirt.”
“And proud of it, sweetheart.”
“Better not be flirting with anyone else, Captain.”
“Just you, sweet cheeks.”
Val wrinkled her nose at the nickname, plucking his cigarette from between his lips to take a drag, before handing it back to him.
“Okay, doesn’t like sweet cheeks.”
“Sounds funny.” She shrugged.
“Aright, sweetheart, won’t use it again.”
“That’s better.”
“Yea? You’re my sweetheart then?” He grinned, leaning forward so his elbows were placed either side of her now outstretched legs.
“Thought I already was…”
“In that case, save me a dance tonight?”
“Just one?” She grinned, leaning forward to bait him.
“As many as you want, beautiful.” He leaned forward, lips brushing her cheek, mustache tickling her skin, causing her to giggle. He was in deep. He knew it, she knew it, and their friends knew it. Thank god he knew how to swim.
Val knew that Curt wasn’t going to listen when she told him to drop his ripped shirt off after dinner, because when she had gotten back to the Red Cross hut with Helen and Tattie, she saw him sneaking out with one of the nurses on his heels. That explains why she hadn’t seen him down at the makeshift ballgame earlier.
“Oh Christ, was he with her the whole afternoon?” Tattie grumbled.
“Looks like it,” Helen sighed. “Now our hut is going to smell like Curt Biddick and whatever cheap perfume she wears.”
“Val, can’t you scare her a little?”
“You know the answer to that, Tat. But I’ll try and get through to Curt.”
“At least tell Biddick to do it somewhere else. We’re not running a brothel.”
“What was he even doing in there?”
“Ripped his shirt the other night and asked me to patch it up. I told him to drop it off after dinner, not while I wasn’t there.”
“You should make him wait,” Tattie turned from where she was currently propping the door open with a spare chair to air out the hut. “It stinks in here.”
“I would, but who wants to hear Harding hemming and hawing about it.”
Tattie conceded at that, and left to go sit outside to smoke, while Val got settled on her bed with a small sewing kit, and Curt’s shirt.
After dinner had concluded, the men and women all retreated to their respective huts to get ready for a night in the Officers Club. The boys would change into their Class A uniforms, shedding their bomber jackets and outdoor attire. The woolen jackets that hung above their beds would be pressed until each seam was meticulous, and their accolades would be pinned to their collars on full display. Curt’s shirt had magically reappeared by his bunk after dinner, and he had no doubt that Val was responsible.
The Red Cross girls would happily divest of their jumpsuits, and step into lingerie, pantyhose and a clean uniform skirt and white blouse. Their jackets proudly displayed the Red Cross logo on the shoulders, and their hair that may have been haphazardly pinned or up in a scarf to get through the day, would be reset and pinned almost as best as a salon back home could do it. Each girl armed with their Victory Red lipstick and a pack of smokes, they would step into their heels, link arms, and make their way to the Officers Club to join the men.
The band was playing something upbeat, and Val knew it was only a matter of time before Bucky would be singing his heart out with them, to almost everyone’s dismay. He was currently nursing a whiskey off by the bar with Buck and Curt, and she just barely caught him regaling the pair of the events of today’s game, even though everyone knew that Gale Cleven didn’t like sports and Curt was giving the nurse from earlier a look from across the room. When her gaze met his, she didn’t miss the wince that overcame his face as he watched her entire demeanor change.
“Let me get you a drink!” Were his first words, turning to face the bar and missing Val’s hand coming up to grab on his ear. “Oww! Valencia!”
“In my hut! Have you lost your mind!”
“I went to drop off my shirt and she, well…”
“My hut is not a brothel. Tattie’s pissed, Curt, so you’d better apologize.”
“I’m sorry!”
“To her, not me, though I will accept it.”
“Can you let go of my ear now? Jesus, what, did my Ma teach you that?”
“Get Tattie a drink and go over and apologize.” She relinquished his ear with one final tug, smoothing her own jacket before turning to Gale and John and offering them both a wide smile.
“Don’t know how you do it, Val, but you’re the only one he listens to.” Croz offered up from behind her.
“Just a little tough love is all, Croz.”
“Well, it looks like he’s trying to smooth it over with Tattie.” Bubbles pipped up. Where one was, the other was not far behind.
“She’s going to make him work for it,” Val laughed, turning back to the bar to order a drink. “And he should work for it. Brought that filthy nurse into our hut.”
“I’ll talk to Smokey,” Bucky offered. “She’s, uh, been a bit of a problem with some of the other men, and honestly, I don’t need anyone else getting sick.”
“Sick… oh my god! Did she… you weren’t kidding about Dye were you!”
Before Bucky could answer or Val could run off and find Helen and Tattie with the gossip, she felt a gentle hand at her elbow. She turned to find Everett standing in front of her, sharp as a tack in his uniform and holding a drink for her.
“My hero!” Val cheered, accepting the drink from him with a smile, leaning up on her toes to drop a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Everett.”
“Saw you putting in some hard work with Curt, and thought you might be thirsty.”
“Oh Christ, I’m sorry you saw that.”
“The ear thing? Absolutely terrifying. My mother used to do that when I was a kid if I didn’t listen.”
“Sounds like your mother and I would get along.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“Well aren’t you smooth.” Val winked, lifting the glass to her lips, taking a sip, not missing the way he watched her.
With a quirk of his lips, Everett let his hand rest gently on Val’s back as he led her to a table that he had secured earlier with Douglass. He didn’t need to ask if she wanted to go sit with him, there was an understanding that seemed to just happen when the pair were together. Besides, he knew she’d want to nurse that first drink before he got her out on the dance floor- hopefully before John Egan decided to serenade them all.
Approaching the table, Val found that Douglass was sitting between Helen and Tattie, and he looked absolutely engrossed in every word that passed between them.
“You girls pick up a fourth while I was gone?” Val teased, sliding into the chair that Everett pulled out for her. He immediately took up the spot to her right, now sandwiched between her and Tattie, while Helen was to her left.
“Don’t let him fool you, he’s good at the gossip.” Helen laughed, lighting a cigarette.
“Oh! That reminds me!”
“Did you handle the nurse?” Tattie raised an eyebrow at her, causing both Everett and Douglass to turn to her with worried eyes. “Curt apologized by the way.”
“I saw, good.”
“Handle?” Douglass asked her.
“I handled Curt.”
“What nurse? What exactly did Curt do?” Everett looked at her concerned, and she simply let her hand fall to his, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
“I caught him sneaking out of the Red Cross hut with you know who today…” she started.
“That one gets around.” Douglass sighed, shaking his head.
“My god, Doug, you are a gossip queen!” Helen grinned. “What else do you know?”
“Let Val finish her story, then we can peel back the many complicated layers of James Douglass!” Tattie cackled.
“Well, when I mentioned it to Bucky, he said he would have a word with Smokey about her, because he doesn’t need any other guys getting sick.”
“What kind of sick could she-“
Both Everett and James turned to each other, looks of sheer disgust crossing their faces as they realized what Val had just said. They too had heard the rumor about Dye, but no one could really figure out how it had started, if it was true, or who gave it to him.
“It was true about Dye,” Val spoke a bit lower. “She gave him the clap…”
“Oh she’s vile!” Helen exclaimed.
“She certainly is,” Val agreed, before turning to the boys. “Now you two, if you’re going to sit with us and listen in, it’s a secret. Got it?”
“Yes ma’am.” Douglass mock saluted, cigarette between two fingers.
“Ev?”
“Not a word, sweetheart, I got it.”
“Good,” she grinned, draining her drink just as the band moved into something softer. “Now, I think it’s time for a dance.”
“What the lady wants, she gets.” Everett grinned, taking one last sip of his own drink before taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor.
“You think he’s alright over there?” Val quirked an eyebrow over towards where Douglass still sat between Helen and Tattie.
“Don’t worry about him, he’s in heaven.” Everett chuckled, spinning her once before gently pulling her close, wrapping one arm around her back, the other holding hers.
“They’ll eat him alive.” She chuckled lowly, her cheek pressed against his as he swayed them slowly.
“Don’t wanna talk about Dougie while I’m dancing with you.” He gave her hip a gentle pinch causing her to scoot just a fraction closer to him.
The arm she had wrapped around him settled firmly in place, her fingers dancing through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
“Hmm, then what do you want to talk about?”
“How cute you looked sitting on that jeep today.”
“I was in my jumpsuit, that’s hardly cute honey.”
“I think it’s adorable.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Absolutely,” He pressed his nose against her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and perfume. “Everything about you is adorable.”
“I don’t think anyone has ever described me as adorable before,” she sighed. “Usually it’s difficult, loud, or my personal favorite, unladylike.”
“Not a shot,” Ev pulled back to look at her, his hazel eyes finding her green. “Anyone who said that didn’t know what a good thing they had.”
“You really are something, Everett Blakely.” Val sighed, moving back into him to let her head rest against his shoulder.
“I hope that’s a good thing…”
Before Val could respond, the band picked up again, Blue Skies filling the room followed by a collective groan by everybody present. Everett and Val broke apart, now standing side by side as they waited for the inevitable.
“ITS MY SONG, BUCK!”
Looking towards the band, they both clocked Bucky dancing his way behind the microphone, his arms flailing wildly as he danced along with the music before he broke into song.
“Has Buck never told him just how bad he sounds?” Val looked up at Everett from under his arm, her eyebrows almost meeting her hairline.
“We’ve all told him,” He shook his head. “He doesn’t seem to care that he sounds like a donkey.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” She rolled her eyes.
“Come on, let’s get a drink.”
Everett let his arm that was around her shoulder guide her back towards the bar, where Helen and Tattie were currently with Douglass and Benny DeMarco, Meatball at their feet. The poor dog wasn’t sure who he wanted to give his attention to at the moment, so he seemed to be moving between them.
“Cute date, Benny!” Val grinned, bending down to scratch behind Meatball's ears.
“I thought so too,” Demarco grinned. “He loves you girls.”
“Aww well we love him too.” Helen grinned, joining Val in giving the husky some attention.
“Tat?” Benny looked over at her. “Do you not love him?”
“Of course I love him,” She shook her head. “I just don’t love when his fur is all over the clubmobile.”
“She’s got a point, Benny. Last week my donut had fur all over it.” John Brady had joined their group, the Upstate New Yorker’s usual stoic demeanor seemed softer in the lighting of the Officers Club. Val suspected he had gotten a letter from his sweetheart back home.
Standing from where she was still crouched with the dog, she smoothed her skirt, accepting the martini glass from Everett with a grateful smile, his arm moving to wrap around her waist. He ducked down, lips pressed against her ear and spoke so only she could hear him.
“Want to take these drinks to go?”
“Go where?” She looked up at him.
“You trust me?”
She answered without hesitation.
“Yes.”
The pair made a quiet exit from the club; not saying goodbye to their friends, Everett led her out into the balmy summer air. He quickly lit two cigarettes, passing one to her as they walked, trying not to spill their drinks as they crossed the cobblestones and rocks that filled the paths between huts.
“Everett where are we going?”
“Well, that jeep right there for starters,” he grinned, tugging her along to the jeep that sat parked outside the officers hut. John Egan’s jeep.
“Is that Bucky’s?”
“Yea…”
“Does he know you’re borrowing it?”
“If I have to listen to him sing, this is the least he could do.”
He guided her to the passenger side, and once she was settled in the seat, he handed her his whiskey, before making his way around and into the driver's seat.
“Hang onto that for a minute, okay?” His words muffled as he spoke around the cigarette currently wedged between his lips.
“Alright… but you still haven’t told me where we’re taking the stolen jeep.”
“Borrowed, not stolen,” He winked. “And can’t I surprise you?”
“Sure, sure,” She grinned. “But I’m not sure what’s out here that I haven’t seen already.”
“I’m sure I can change that.” He teased, turning the key in the ignition and shifting into gear.
He drove them away from the Officers Club and the huts, down past the control tower and offices until finally he turned onto the road that led to the hardstands. Though he was a much better driver than Croz had been, Val still struggled to keep both drinks from spilling as he caught the occasional stray rock under the tires.
When the jeep finally slowed, coming to a stop, Val looked up and immediately gasped at the fort that they had parked in front of. She knew they were big, but to see one so close, and with only the headlights of the jeep shining on it, made the B-17 parked in front of her look both eerie and incredible. The words Just-A-Snappin were painted on the nose, and Val couldn’t help the surprised look on her face as she turned to Everett.
“This is yours!”
“Yea, this is my other girl.” He grinned, turning the engine off and pocketing the keys. “Thought you might like to see her.”
Val couldn’t help the shudder that ran through her when he called her his girl. That, coupled with the image of him in the pilot's seat, controlling something so incredibly powerful, made her press her knees together without even realizing she had done so.
“Wow… she’s stunning. I mean it, Ev!”
“She’s good to us,” He reached towards her and took the whiskey glass from her hand. “Gotten us there and back safe so far.”
“Well, she sounds pretty amazing,” Val turned in her seat to face him, tucking her legs up underneath her.
“Wanna go up?” He grinned.
“Now!?”
“No time like the present. Let me see if Ken left the stairs out.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth, had he hopped out of the jeep, the tail end of his cigarette between two fingers, whiskey glass barely secure in the other three. She watched as he strutted over to the plane, checking for the stairs, before ducking back under the wing and shouting over to her.
“I’ll have to give you a boost, honey.”
“I’m sorry?”
“No stairs, so we're going to have to go up through the hatch.”
“Uh, Ev?” She was kneeling on the front seat of the jeep, one hand on the windshield to steady herself, the other clutching her half finished cocktail.
“Yea?”
“Where exactly is the hatch?”
He laughed outright, but made his way back over to her. Extending a hand once close enough, he helped her step out of the jeep, and walked her over to the plane. They ducked under the wing, and finally came to a stop off to the side, a small door on the belly of the plane with the words Jerry, if you can read this, start prayin painted on the side.
He reached up and pulled the small hatch open, and Val just stood there staring at him.
“Wait so, if you give me a boost how the hell are you getting in?”
“Don’t worry about me,” He drained his glass, gesturing for her to do the same. “I’ll get up same as I always do.”
Val nodded, and handed over her now empty martini glass, waiting as Everett placed it on the ground next to his own empty glass. They’d have to remember to grab them on the way out, lest Kenny and the ground crew find them in the morning.
“Okay,” Ev dusted his hands off on his slacks, coming to stand behind her. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be…”
“On three then, I’m going to just, pick you up.”
Turning over her shoulder to catch his gaze, she gave a wink before speaking.
“Don’t let me fall.”
“I won’t,” His hands came to rest gently on his waist. “Precious cargo.”
Adjusting his grip, he counted just in her ear, his warm breath fanning against her skin. When he got to three, she felt herself being lifted off the ground, and into the small hatch of the plane above her. Using her arms to help lessen her weight against him, she hauled herself up as best as she could given her skirt, until she was seated on the floor of the plane. The darkness that surrounded her was eerie, and she was about to say as much before Ev’s hand appeared in the hatch with a small flashlight.
“Here, hold this a minute while I get in.”
Val positioned the light on the opening for him, and watched in absolute awe as he gripped the top of the hatch and pulled himself up, swinging his legs into the plane in one fell swoop. The sheer strength that it must take for him to do that had fireflies dancing in her stomach at what he must be hiding under that neatly pressed uniform.
Once on his feet, he took the flashlight in one hand, and one of hers in the other, before guiding her along to what she could only assume was the cockpit.
“Down here’s the nose. Dougie and Bubbles camp out here when we’re up.” He pointed to a small desk, and what she recognized as a Norden Bombsight. She had seen it in reports in Chick’s office but never up close.
“I’ve seen those in the reports in Chicky’s office, but never up close.” Val whispered, running her fingers gently over the equipment.
“Wait… you call him Chicky?!”
“It’s a joke, really.” She turned to him. “I dared Tattie to do it in exchange for a pack of smokes and she’s never one to turn down a dare.”
“That’s actually the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Do not call him that to his face. Only the girls get to do it.”
“Oh I won’t. But I might have to dare Dougie one of these days.”
She swatted his shoulder, a gentle slap, but he caught her hand before she could pull it back. He turned and looked up, before gesturing with one arm to the small step up towards the cockpit.
“Careful, it’s one step but it’s big.”
Nodding, Val held onto his one hand, before using the other to balance as she stepped up and into the cockpit of the fort. This, she could already tell, was Everett’s favorite part of the plane.
“Left or right?” She called down to him.
“The right,” He appeared behind her, and as she shuffled into the seat on the right, he settled himself in the left seat. “Prettiest co-pilot I’ve ever had.”
“Oh is that what I am? Your co-pilot?”
“Well, you’re in the co-pilot's seat,” He grinned, reaching over and taking her hand. “Unless you’d rather be the pilot. Lots of responsibility when you’re the pilot.”
Val let her eyes sweep over all of the buttons and controls, shifts and knobs, dials and numbers. She couldn’t make sense of a single one of them, except for the yoke in front of where Everett sat. That much she knew was for steering the plane.
“How do you remember all of this?”
“A lot of practice. And a good co-pilot.”
“You and Via have been flying together all this time?”
“Yea. Dougie’s always been in the nose, and Bubbles and his lucky snow globe are always on the maps.”
“Sounds like a pretty reliable crew.”
“I’ve got room for one more, if you’re interested?”
“Oh really?”
“Yea…”
“What’s the job description? I’m already awfully busy pouring coffee for all the Flyboy’s and making sure everyone gets a donut. Meatball fur free, of course.”
Everett laughed softly and gave her arm a gentle tug, pulling her over into his lap in the pilot's seat. Her legs were stretched out to the side, feet just barely touching where she had been sitting. His arms came to rest around her waist, while one of hers wrapped around his neck. The other had a handful of the lapel of his jacket.
“Hey there.” She grinned.
“You are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her nose. “Have I told you that yet tonight?”
“Maybe, but I’m not opposed to hearing it again if you really think so.”
“Gorgeous.” A kiss to her nose. “Beautiful.” A kiss to her left cheek. “Lovely.” A kiss to her right cheek.
“Ev…” His name left her on a breath, evaporating into the air around them.
His hands slid up from her waist, the touch soft, gentle, the opposite of how she’d imagined he might pilot the plane they were sitting in, until they were cradling her face.
“Mine?” He pressed their noses together, left hand sliding down to cup her neck.
“Yours.”
That was all he needed to connect their lips, the sparks that had been dancing around them for weeks finally igniting. She tasted like gin and lemon juice; he of cigarettes and whiskey and neither could get enough of the other. The moonlight spilling through the windows of the cockpit offered just enough visibility that they could see each other, but the cover of darkness allowed for them to touch. To feel. As Val pulled away with a gasp for air, Everett chased her lips, pulling her back against him until he could feel every inch of her pressed against his body, her arms wound around his neck as she opened her mouth to him, allowing him that first step, that touch of his tongue against hers, as he continued to kiss the air from her lungs.
Her hands desperately fumbled with the buttons on his jacket until they had come open and she could shove it from his shoulders. Releasing his hold on her, he quickly leaned forward so he could pull his jacket the rest of the way off, carelessly tossing it onto the now vacant co-pilot’s seat. His nimble fingers returned the favor, slipping the button on Val’s blue jacket open before divesting her of it and allowing it to accompany his own.
She surged forward, pressing her chest against his, lips moving feverishly against his own, her hands dragging down his arms. She could feel the muscles under the fabric of his shirt, forearms and biceps flexing as his own hands moved over her and found purchase on various parts of her body.
“Fuck… Could kiss you all night.”
Dragging his mouth from hers with what felt like Herculean effort, he kissed his way across her cheek, down the sharp slope of her jaw to the juncture behind her ear. His mustache trailing behind each nip and gentle suck of her skin, her perfume lingering in their wake as he stirred parts of her that no one ever had before. A soft moan escaped her throat, her head tipped back exposing more of her neck for him to feast on.
“Ev… Everett…”
“Hmm, what baby, what is it?” His voice was muffled, lips moving back towards her own while his hands slid gently up her ribcage, fingers brushing the underside of her covered breasts. He pulled away to find her eyes, her gaze hazy as she focused on him in the dark, breaths coming in sharp inhales and heavy exhales.
He let his thumbs move back and forth from where they were, his fingers flexing as he tried to control every urge inside him that said it would be alright if he made love to her right here. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that, not to her, who deserved something more than a romp in the dark of his plane for their first time together. He’d give her whatever she asked for, while doing his best to remain a gentleman. At least, that was what he told himself. Until she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and softly guided his hand up, north of her ribs until his right hand was cupping her breast. Until she urged him on, silently begging him to continue touching her as best as they could in the cramped space.
“Don’t stop…” She whispered, threading her fingers into his hair and pulling him back to her mouth.
“Never.” He murmured against her, the hand that held her so reverently giving a gentle squeeze. “Not until you tell me to.”
Val’s hands slid from Everett’s hair; her nails raking against his scalp until they came down around his neck. Without thinking she was tugging at his tie and opening the buttons at the collar. The rational part of her brain was no longer thinking. Everything around her was Everett. His hands on her body, fingers tugging her shirt free from the waistband of her skirt so that he could touch her skin against skin. Just as his hands slid up her back, fingers brushing the band of her brassier, her lips found his neck, teeth scraping against his pulse.
“Val…” His head hit the back of the seat as she moved lower, her lips dragging across his exposed collar bones, leaving open mouth kisses up the column of his neck. “Christ, honey…”
Just as he popped open the first button on her blouse, a voice rang out from the open hatch, causing Val to wince and Everett to curse under his breath.
“Hello? Anyone up here?”
“Oh shit, is that Lemmons?” Her eyebrows flew straight to her hairline at the thought, and when Everett nodded in confirmation, she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. His hand came down over her mouth to muffle the sound, as he called back down to the ground crew chief.
“Uhh yea, Ken, it’s just me!”
“Captain Blakely? That your jeep out there?”
“Yea. I’ll be down in a minute.”
Val’s head dropped to Everett’s shoulder, her breathing uneven as she tried to suppress the giggles that hadn’t quite subsided yet. Getting caught up in the cockpit of a fort hadn’t been on her agenda for the evening, but neither had Everett’s surprise adventure. She knew it was only a matter of time before they kissed, and hell, she had been counting on it for some time now. What she hadn’t counted on was that once they started they wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Hey, you alright?” Ev’s hand was still pressed against her back, the warmth of his skin burning against her own.
“Yea, just wasn’t expecting to be interrupted,” She looked up at him, his hair a mess from where her hands had gotten to it. “Wasn’t expecting to almost… either.”
“I should have slowed us down,” He let his head fall back against the seat. “You deserve more than, well, the cockpit of a plane.”
“Well, I did tell you not to stop.” She grinned.
“And who am I not to oblige my girl when she wants something.”
“Another time,” She leaned forward to press her lips to his softly. “Until then, feel free to sneak me up here and kiss me as often as you’d like.”
“I’ll have to remember that. And not to bring a jeep next time so we don’t get busted.”
“Speaking of… we’ve got poor Kenny cooling his heels down there waiting for us.”
“Better button up.” He gestured to her blouse with a nod of his head and a wink.
“Same goes for you, Captain, because I made a real mess of you.” She grinned.
“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled, pulling his hands away from her to do up the buttons on his shirt.
Val moved from his lap, doing her best to tuck her shirt back in, and put her jacket back on. She was sure her lipstick was smudged all over her face, and her hair had to look like a bird's nest by this point, but there was nothing she could do about that. She tried to tuck back whatever loose strands had fallen free, rolling her eyes as Everett smirked at her. He had decided against redoing his tie, instead stuffing it into his pocket. As he stood, eyes focused on her and not the area around him, his head came in contact with the ceiling above him, a dull echo resounding through the cockpit.
“Fuck!”
“Shit! Are you alright!”
He turned to her, and couldn’t help the smile on his own face as he watched her try and not laugh at him. Her hand was covering her mouth, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief.
“I’m fine sweetheart,” He held out his hand to guide her down. “Now let’s go before Lemmons sends a search party.”
“Don’t let me fall…” she gripped his fingers tightly as he stepped down first, before he turned to guide her out of the cockpit, and back down towards the hatch.
“Let me go first, and I’ll help you once I’m down.”
“Okay…”
He made quick work of jumping from the plane, and once both feet were on solid ground, he turned back towards the hatch for her.
“Jump, honey. I’ve gotcha.”
“Easy for you to say.” She mumbled, before sitting herself on the floor of the plane, legs dangling below her in the night. With a deep breath, she pushed herself out of the plane, and true to his word, Everett had caught her around the waist.
“Told ya.” He winked, setting her back on the ground.
Brushing herself off, Val turned to find Ken Lemmon’s looking at her, eyes wide, lips quirked into a smirk.
“Evening, Miss Val.” He offered her a wave.
“Hi Ken. Did we wake you?”
“No. Got up to use the can, and uh, saw the jeep. Thought maybe Major Egan was up on the wing again.”
“Sorry… we didn’t mean to make trouble.”
“Hey, it’s the Captains fort, no trouble for me at all.”
“We’ll get out of your hair, let you get back to bed.” She grinned, hand searching for Everett’s as he stood next to her.
“Goodnight you two,” Ken gave a wave as he turned and made his way back to the ground crew's hut. “Don't forget your glasses!”
Everett winced and doubled back to where he had left their empty glasses from earlier, while Val turned and made her way to the jeep. Once he joined her, he passed them over to her while he dug the key from his pocket and started the engine. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on her knee, he drove them off back towards the huts. They passed a few stragglers leaving the Officers Club; Benny Demarco and Crank were sitting outside with Meatball, the dog taking off in a run after the jeep as it passed causing Benny to groan and both Val and Ev to laugh. He eventually got tired and began trotting his way back to where Benny was waiting.
When Everett pulled the jeep up in front of the Red Cross hut, he noticed that the lights were still on inside, which meant Tattie and Helen were either still lingering at the club or waiting up for Val.
“Looks like they might be waiting for you.”
“Gossip queens…” she shook her head with a fond smile.
Letting the two glasses rest on the seat between them, she turned to face him, hand reaching for his own. Just the feeling of his skin on hers had her wanting to make him turn the jeep around and go back to the hardstand and finish what they started.
“Can I kiss you goodnight?”
“You’re asking permission to kiss me? Everett, you’re practically wearing my lipstick, sweetheart.” She smiled, but leaned closer to him anyway, indulging him the moment.
“Please?” He whispered. “Valencia, come on, I’m trying to be a gentleman. Walk you to your door, kiss you goodnight…”
“Okay, okay!” She conceded. “Yes, Everett, you can kiss me goodnight.”
He met her in the middle, hand sliding up to cradle her face as their lips found each other. Her fingers slid through his already disheveled hair, nails scratching against his scalp. She could feel him shudder under her touch, and had to keep reminding herself that it would be worth it to wait just a little longer for him in that way.
Pulling back only when the need for air grew too strong, Everett let his thumb softly move against the apple of her cheek, his forehead pressed to hers.
“Go on, before Tattie comes out here looking for you.”
“Don’t wanna…”
“Me either, but there’s tomorrow, and I’ll be waiting for you. Promise.”
“Tomorrow…” She sighed, nuzzling into his warm palm.
“I’ll pick you up in the morning and we can walk to the mess together. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
With another soft kiss to her lips, Everett released his hold on her, allowing her to step out of the jeep and take the few steps to the door of the hut she resided in. He knew he wouldn’t get any sleep that night, thoughts of bright green eyes and a mischievous smile dancing in his mind's eye until the sun came up and he could see her again. He waited until she was safely inside the hut, the sound of Helen’s voice floating through the air as Val rejoined the girls finally. With a chuckle and shake of his head, he drove the jeep back to the Officers Hut where he found John Egan outside, smoking a cigarette with Douglass.
“So, how’d it go?” Dougie stood up, flicking the butt of his cigarette in the makeshift ashtray.
“Thanks for letting me borrow the jeep, Bucky.”
“Anytime you need me to break into song so you can make an escape with your gal, I’ve got it handled.”
“I think everyone else would be very opposed, but I appreciate the offer.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“You are, but that’s alright. You mean well.”
“Night Blakely…”
“Night, Major…”
Everett had one foot in the door before Douglass was pulling him into the light, his blue eyes looking at him with scrutiny.
“What?”
“Man, she really did a number on you! Was she wearing any lipstick when you brought her back?”
“Doug…”
“Victory Red is definitely your shade, Ev!” He cackled, heading for his bunk while Everett moved to the mirror that hung by the wall, checking his reflection with a smile. She had indeed left her mark, and if he had any say in the matter, he wanted her to do that for as long as Victory Red was in production.
“Goodnight, sweetheart…”
Part Three
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!
She's an American Red Cross Clubmobile girl, and he's the Flyboy with the Lucky Strike tucked behind his ear. Fate has a funny way of intervening- and Fate's name just happens to be Curt Biddick.
Follow along with the Eight To The Bar Playlist
When Captain Everett Blakely landed Just-A-Snappin on the Thorpe Abbotts airfield, he knew two things. The first, was that it had been a fucking haul from Greenland. All he wanted was a drink, and to collapse into whatever the base was passing off as a bed. The second, was that the pretty brunette with the striking green eyes offering him a choice of coffee or whiskey upon entry to the Interrogation Hut, was someone he wanted to know.
Valencia DiRosano. Val, for short, was a Red Cross Clubmobile girl who also moonlighted as a secretary for Chick Harding when he needed someone to take notes or type up his reports with a little extra speed. She was kind, but a real New Yorker with the mouth to back it up; so it came as no surprise to him when he found her laughing at the bar with Curt Biddick. Childhood friends, he had come to learn on the morning of their first mission. He had watched, amused, as Biddick jumped into the Clubmobile and attempted to fix his own coffee, but not before Val gave him a hearty shove out the back door and onto solid ground.
“You’ve been here less than a week, Curt. Do I have to write your Mother already?”
“Aw come on Val!” He was holding a carafe of the coffee in one hand, leaning back inside the Red Cross truck. “We’ve been friends since the sandbox, doll face! Please!”
“Curt, you step back on this truck and you’ll be in the med bay before you even see the inside of your plane.” She scowled, green eyes narrowed at him as she snatched the carafe from his hand.
“Killjoy.” He sighed, winking up at her as she handed him a cup of coffee, no doubt, fixed the way he liked it.
Blakely was shaking his head as he approached the Clubmobile, smiling up at Val as she offered him coffee that he didn’t hesitate to accept. She was always armed with a smile, and some days he felt she saved one especially for him, but he wouldn’t tell anyone that.
“He’s a pain in my ass.” She had offered by way of greeting that morning.
“Dickie would probably sympathize with you, ma’am.” He grinned, hazel eyes fixed on her own green.
“Oh, don’t I know it,” she shook her head. “And you can call me Val, Captain.”
“Then it’s only fair if you drop the formalities as well.” A teasing lilt to his reply.
She shook her head at him, but leaned forward towards him, her torso now fully outside the open hatch she was serving the Airmen from.
She’d be lying to herself if said she hadn’t been attracted to him since the minute she saw him. Striking hazel eyes, a finely trimmed mustache over his upper lip, and perfectly styled hair. The latter two seemed to be a requirement for Flyboy’s, she had noted. And he always had a cigarette tucked behind his ear should he need it.
Pinching a donut between two fingers, she allowed her face to get just a bit closer to his, before she offered it to him with a wink.
“Safe flight, Captain Blakely.”
“Val.” He grinned, plucking the offered snack from between her red manicured nails, before tipping his crush cap at her and heading towards the truck where his crew was waiting.
Dougie already liked to give him a hard time whenever he was caught ogling her at the Silver Wings Club from across the room. He no doubt had seen the exchange between the pair, because when Everett slid into the spot next to him on the truck, the bombardier wasted no time in letting him have it.
“You two set a date yet?”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“I’m your best friend,” Douglass elbowed him. “I’m supposed to be a pain in your ass.”
“Lucky me.” Blakely groaned, taking a sip of his coffee.
He wouldn’t tell anyone, but it was the best damn cup of coffee he’d had in months and he was sure it had everything to do with the woman who had made it for him.
When he returned from that first mission, Bremen, she was waiting in the Interrogation Hut just like the day he had first descended on the air field. Armed with coffee and whiskey, she spotted him as soon as he came through the door. He wasn’t sure, but he could swear the smile on her face that she was offering to all the boys stretched just a bit wider when she clocked him.
“Captain.”
“Val.” He grinned, fingers sliding around the rim of the whiskey glass she was holding out to him.
“Nice to see you safely on the ground.”
“Well, it’s nice to be on the ground again.”
Douglass was behind him, pushing him along to their designated area so that they could get this part over with as quickly as possible. It was one thing to be up there getting hammered with flak while praying for your life, but to have to relive it so that The Brass could get all the details straight, was the worst possible version of deja vu.
“Right, I need to uhh…”
“No, of course,” She nodded, picking up one of the coffees and handing it to Buck Cleven who had just walked in with John Egan. The Major looked positively rattled, and when she went to offer him a whiskey instead, Major Egan intercepted it for himself.
“He doesn’t drink.” Blakely whispered to her, answering the silent question on the tip of her tongue.
Val nodded in understanding before offering both Major’s a smile, watching as they moved further into the room. Then she turned back to Everett, giving him a gentle nudge towards where the rest of his crew was currently sitting.
“Go on, I’ll see you later. I’ve got to clean up here.” She had smiled at him as she began moving around the room to pick up the empty glasses.
“Blakely!” It was Colonel Harding, and he was standing in that way he often did, with his hands planted on his hips, and eyes narrowed in his direction.
Quickly shaking himself from his fog, he moved towards the empty chair next to Douglass, silently begging his friend not to say a word. At least not with the rest of their crew around.
They had been in Interrogation longer than he wanted to be there; the mission had been scrubbed, and Harding had wanted all the details. The how, why and when. But it was never the who that they focused on for too long. The who being the fellas who had died up there, whose blood was currently being washed out of the inside of the forts that made it back. Whos mothers didn’t know it yet, but were going to receive a letter from Major John Egan expressing his deepest sympathies for the loss of their son. His fort had been lucky, making it back to Thorpe Abbotts in one piece, and while he wanted to take the time to acknowledge that, he knew that his mind wouldn't let him. He would have to acknowledge the lost, and the broken pieces of this first flight before he could move on.
Leaving the Equipment Hut, he found Curt exiting the base Hospital. The stocky, former Brooklyn boxer looked slightly stunned, and when Everett made eye contact, the pilot gave a nod, before changing course to walk alongside him.
“You good?” Blakely spoke first, eyes cutting to the hospital they had just left in their rear view.
“Yea, wanted to check on Dickie.”
Dickie would have normally been in the co-pilot seat next to Biddick, but with Major Cleven riding with Biddick’s crew on this flight, Dickie had been down in the tail gun.
“What happened up there?”
“Frostbite,” Curt sighed. “Grabbed the tail gun without gloves on.”
“Jesus, he alright?”
“Smokey said it ain’t too bad, but could be a few weeks before he’s back in the seat.”
“Well, better frostbitten than dead I suppose.”
“Yea…” Curt trailed off. “How ‘bout you boys? Yous all make it back in one piece?”
“For the most part, physically at least.”
“Yea, I hear that.”
They walked silently towards the Officers Hut, the only thing on Blakely’s mind at the moment; a hot shower and change of clothes. He supposed that most of the fellas would make their way to the Silver Wings Club later in the evening, so long as the red light stayed the hell off and let them be. He hoped he wouldn't have to see it blinking again this week, but this was war, and it just didn’t sound promising.
Just as he was about to pull the door open to their nissen hut, Curt stopped him, hand pushing the door closed and forcing them both to stop walking.
“French 75.”
“You asking me to buy you a drink, Curt?” He raised an eyebrow at the shorter man.
“Val’s drink is a French 75.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask…”
“I ain’t blind.” Curt shook his head.
“I thought maybe Dougie tipped you off.”
“Oh, he did,” Curt winked, and Blakely couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh. “But I also seen yous two by the Clubmobile this morning, and she almost sent poor Tattie flyin to give you a drink back there.”
“How come you uh…how come you and her never got together?”
“Nah, I love her to pieces but not like that.”
He nodded, understanding exactly what Curt meant when he said that.
“Okay then…”
“B’sides, you heard her. I’m a pain in her ass.” Curt grinned wildly, and Blakely could see that he was proud to be Val’s very own pain in the ass. It was the same type of smile that Douglass gave him when he bestowed him with the very same compliment.
“Yea, she did mention that.” He shook his head.
“C’mon, let's go, I stink of fuel.”
By the time the band was playing, the Silver Wings Officers Club was filled with Airmen, and a mix of Red Cross and local women who had been invited by some of the pilots and crew. It was a hearty blend of people, and it wasn’t long before the dance floor was filled with couples.
Val was sitting with Helen and Tattie, the trio partaking in their favorite activity when they weren’t working: people watching. Discreetly, from behind their martini glasses, they would observe the goings on of the club, and who was doing what. It was also a subtle way for them to learn a little more about the men so that they could chat to them as they left for a mission.
“Wait, but she was seeing Egan last week!” Tattie spoke in a hushed voice. Even with the band playing, she didn’t want anyone hearing her. They were currently fixed on a local East Anglia girl who had been seen around the club before, most recently with Major Egan, but none of the women could remember her name.
“I guess she’s seeing Dye now.” Val sniggered from behind her drink.
“I heard he had the clap.” Helen chimed in.
“Egan!?” Val’s eyes went wide.
“No, Dye.”
“No! From who!”
“I don’t know who gave it to him!” Helen rolled her eyes.
“Not who gave it to him,” Tattie sighed. “Who did you hear it from?”
“Funny enough, John Egan.”
“I wonder how true it is, then,” Val shook her head, taking a sip of her drink. “He’s probably just sore over losing her to Dye.”
“Well, Flyboy’s are like that.”
“Not all Flyboy’s are filthy, Tattie.” Helen groaned.
“No, you’re right,” Tattie grinned. “Val’s seems like a gentleman.”
Helen and Tattie were both bearing bright grins in her direction, and all she could do was roll her eyes as she drained the last of her drink.
“You two are incorrigible.”
“So you weren’t flirting with Captain Blakely this morning? Helen leaned across the table at her.
“I was doing my job.”
“And this afternoon, in Interrogation, was your job to almost mow me down to get to him? Tattie raised an eyebrow at her.
“You were in my way, Tat…”
“Well then,” She grinned. “If he’s not your Flyboy, then I don’t know why he’s making his way over here with a drink in each hand.”
When she looked over to where Tattie’s gaze was focused, sure enough, there was Captain Everett Blakely, striding across the room towards their table, with a martini glass in one hand, and his whiskey in the other. She couldn’t very well hide the smile on her face as he approached, and knew that when she finally retreated to the women’s hut later that night, both Helen and Tattie would be there to pull every detail from her before they fell into their own beds.
“Ladies,” Blakely grinned, gaze landing on both of Val’s companions, before finally settling on her. “Val.”
“Captain Blakely.” She grinned, their game of formalities causing him to roll his eyes with a smile.
“Are we still doing that?” He asked. “This is hardly a formal setting.”
“Everett…” She allowed his first name to slip past her lips just the once, and watched as his eyes lit up at hearing her say it. “Are you drinking for two tonight?”
“Do you think so little of me that I would?”
“Oh, so that one’s for Douglass?” She teased.
“Actually, it’s for you. French 75, right?” He offered her the martini glass in his left hand, their fingers brushing as she accepted it from him. Just like they had that afternoon as she handed him his whiskey. She couldn’t help it. She could feel her cheeks warming up at the simple gesture and hoped that her rouge would hide it. She wasn’t sure she’d be that lucky, however, as his warm gaze was trained entirely on her.
“And who told you that?”
“Let’s just call them a reliable source.” He nodded, lifting his own glass to his lips, though she didn’t miss his grin.
She’d barely noticed Tattie and Helen slipping away from the table, the former immediately snatched up by James Douglass for a dance, while Helen; well, she wasn’t sure where she disappeared off to. Had her friends given her up that easily to him? Surely it hadn’t been Curt; he was everything a protective big brother should be, minus the bloodline. She couldn’t imagine her childhood friend willingly offering up any sort of information to a potential suitor. She knew better than anyone what he was like back home any time they had doubled with his flavor of the month and someone she met that wasn’t entirely turned off by her friendship with another man.
She’d resolve to find out who the reliable source was, but for now, she was intent on enjoying the company of the man who still stood in front of her.
“Would you like to join me?” She looked up at him through her lashes, red lips stretched wide with a smile just for him.
“I’d love to,” he returned the smile, and with a grace she hadn’t known a man to possess, ever, slid into the seat to her left. “Besides, what kind of person would I be if I left you here alone?”
“Not a very good one, I suppose.”
“Exactly, and my mother raised a gentleman.”
“Well, I’ll have to thank her then,” Val teased from behind her glass. “There are so few of you left.”
“I’ll consider myself lucky then, to be a gentleman worthy of your time.”
“You’re a flirt, Captain Blakely.”
“Are we back to the formalities?” He sighed, arms outstretched on the table in front of him, body slightly slouched in his seat.
“I’m only joking,” her hand fell to his arm, and she couldn’t help but admire the ropes of muscle she felt beneath the fabric of his uniform jacket. “But you are a flirt.”
“Do you see me flirting with anyone else here?”
That had her caught in his gaze, so much so that she barely noticed Curt striding into the room, and Helen intercepting him at the bar. She was sure that had he noticed her, he’d have skidded over to her and Blakely in such a state, demanding a dance with his best friend, that it would leave the Captain stunned and so put off, he’d never speak to her again.
“Val?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes,” shaking her head to dismiss the thoughts, she focused back on Everett, and how her hand was still resting on his forearm. “I promise it’s not you.”
His gaze softened, his head immediately turning from her to survey the room, trying to pinpoint exactly what, or who, had caused her the momentary distress.
“There’s someone in here you're trying to avoid.” He didn’t question it, so much as come out with it directly.
“Not avoid, per say…” she sighed. “But, I’m enjoying your company, and Curt just walked in and he has a habit of, well…”
“Being Curt?” He supplied a helpful smile.
“Driving away any man I’m interested in.” She had said the last part so quietly, head ducked down, that he strained to hear it.
“What was that?” His thumb and index finger gently cradled her chin, lifting her face back up towards him. His eyes were boring into her, hazel locked on green, and she couldn’t pull herself away even if she wanted to.
“I’m sure you’ve heard by now that Curt and I grew up together.”
“Yea, I heard it mentioned once or twice.”
“Our mom’s got close when we were kids; we lived in the same building growing up, and they’d usually toss us in the sandbox or let us run around the garden while they gossiped. So, Curt and I became like siblings.”
“Go on…”
“And like all good siblings, and in true big brother fashion, he likes to embarrass me in front of anyone I’m with.”
“Well, I’m not deterred by Curt Biddick.” He grinned, giving her jaw a gentle pinch with his two fingers before pulling back.
“It’s why I stick to the formalities with you…”
“Well, if it’s not too bold of an ask; unless you really need to, I’d prefer you call me Everett. Or Ev. Whichever suits you.”
“Okay…”
“Now, can I be bold once more?” He was trying to get her to crack another dazzling smile, and he’d be damned if the night ended before he succeeded.
“You’re pushing your luck, Everett.”
“There she is,” he grinned. “Could I have this dance?”
“I’d love nothing more.” She smiled, watching as he stood before gently taking her hands to guide her from her chair.
Drinks forgotten for the time being, Valencia allowed Captain Everett Blakely to lead her out onto the crowded dance floor. When he found a suitable spot, he gently twirled her before pulling her body close to his. His hands were warm, but not overly so, and she found that as one rested gently on the small of her back and the other held hers, that it was a comforting feeling she had been missing for quite some time. Not even dancing with Curt made her feel so at ease, and that normally would have worried her. Something about Everett Blakely and his warm hazel eyes pulled her in, and made her want to stay in his embrace for as long as possible. As he swayed them gently, his warm breath fanning across her cheek caused her to look up, her head lifting from where she was resting it on his shoulder, her gaze meeting his.
“Hell of a song.” He spoke softly, words just for them to hear.
She hadn’t noticed what the band was playing until he said it, the tune of You Go To My Head filling the club.
“Appropriate, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” his hand resting on her back pulled her just that much closer, the pins on his uniform catching on the button of her Red Cross jacket, but neither seemed to mind. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I landed last week.”
“Is that so?” Her hand that had been resting gently on his shoulder had somehow wrapped around him, her fingers finding a home in the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
“Think you might like to stay there a while longer?”
“Just a while?”
“As long as you like, sweetheart. I want to know everything about you.”
“Well, I’d say you’re off to a good start.” She whispered, her head moving back to his shoulder as the band moved into another song. Neither making any effort to part.
Neither of them saw it, but Curt was watching from the bar with a proud grin on his face.
Part Two
A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!
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