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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Dear Emma, I wanted to write this to you, I wanted to say this to you while I still have as much of me as I do. […] So I wanted to come out here while it’s still quiet so that I could look you in the eye in case— before I’m all gone and tell you that you are the love of my life because you make me laugh every day and you make my life worth living and you make me feel like I’m not alone. And if things were normal, then you’d be the person that’d make it okay that I gotta grow old and die someday because at least I got to spend some of that time with you. But things aren’t normal and so I guess instead, or as well, I love you because you stayed. Because when things got scary you knuckled down and you stayed. And you got me through each day. And I hope I did the same for you, or I hope that I can still do the same for you somehow.
You and Gwayne are in a formal and emotionally distant marriage, that all changes when you want a baby. Porn no plot
Requested: here
Content: smut, switches, breeding, piv, oral f!receiving, cock warming, Ser, good boy, good girl, hair pulling, breast play, hints of future lactation kink, I don’t know what happened here I just started writing and couldn’t stop… tell me if I forgot anything
“I have a request.” You say to your husband while you have your weekly private dinner. You having been married for almost a year now, him insisting on the weekly meal to show unity and to check that nothing was wrong. Despite you both sitting in silence most of the time, apart from the occasional small talk. Well, until tonight that is. “I would like a baby.”
“I need an heir.” Gwayne responds only taking a moment to proses what you said. Him grateful you brought up wanting children, Gwayne having been thinking for days about how to bring the topic up.
“Then we are in agreement?” You ask, as if you’re just making a business deal not speaking about having children.
“We are.” He agrees, taking a sip of his wine. “I shall send for the maester on the morrow.”
“Good.” You say nodding at him before continuing to eat in silence.
-
“We wish to have a child, what is the best way to go about things?” Gwayne asks the maester, him having been summoned to the private solar the next morning. Gwayne resting parchment against his knee.
“Oh, um, well, you should copulate often-.” The maester says, coughing slightly not expecting that to be why he was summoned. The man thinking you were already with child, not that you wanted to try.
“How often?” Gwayne interrupts, making a note on a piece of parchment. Wanting to remember all of it. You just listening carefully, not wanting to appear crazy by making notes.
“At least once a day.” The maester responds blushing, not having been approached by a couple in such a way.
“Anything else?” You ask, thinking of when to start.
“Yes, um, I’ve noticed higher success when sharing a bed every night, along with spending time together during the day also being more.” He stops for a moment to think of a word. “Affectionate is suspected to help the process.”
“We can do that, what else?” Gwayne says while writing, planing on telling the servants to move your things into his chambers today. Planing on starting tonight.
“Pleasure, for both, is rumored to help as well.” The old man says uncomfortably, hoping he won’t asks anymore questions. “That is all I can think of for now.”
“Thank you.” You say of the man a small smile, grateful for the advice.
“You’re dismissed.” Your husband tells the man, sparing him a quick glance. Still writing, planning the whole evening.
“Good luck ser and my lady.” The maester says leaving the door hoping he’s not summoned again until you’re with child.
-
“What are you doing?” Gwayne asks when you pull up your skirts and lay back on the bed, reminding the man of your wedding night. You both being incredibly awkward as you had an audience. Him doing his best to cover you from their eyes that night. “I want to do this properly, the maester said to be affectionate, so let me kiss you first.”
At his request you stand up and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck lips brushing against him when you speak. “Of course ser, whatever you wish.”
“Don’t tease.” He whispers back licking his lips, yours being so close that his tongue lightly brushes your lips.
“How am I teasing you ser?” You ask whispering softly pressing your lips to his, bringing his bottom lip with you when you pull away. “You said you wanted to do this properly.” You tease, taking his hand and placing it against your breasts. Knowing your husband loves them given when you wear lower cut dresses he always stares before remembering himself. “So how do you want me?”
“I, uh, on the bed.”
“But you just told me to get off the bed, do you want me to remove my dress first?” You ask unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his delicious chest that you can’t wait to lick.
“Please.” He whimpers, forehead resting against yours while you undo his breaches. Your hand fingers drawing shapes on his lower abdomen, him wanting your hands on him properly. “I mean, yes.”
“Of course Ser.” You whisper pulling him into a deep kiss, tongue slipping into his mouth while your hand slips further in, caressing is hard cock, swearing he’s bigger than last time you lay together the moon after your wedding. “May you help me with the laces?”
“Of course.” He says swallowing harshly, thinking he must be dreaming. Hands shakily making their way to the back of your dress, kissing down your neck while he loosens the lace. Letting out a little whimper when your green dress fell from your shoulders revealing your bare breasts, not bothering to wear a shift. “You’re so pretty.”
“Thank you.” You whisper hand going to his copper hair, lightly tugging at it so he’ll look at your face again. Pushing his unbutton shirt off his shoulders, him quickly throwing it to the side. “What do you want next?”
“Let me eat you.” He whispers desire clear on his face, licking his lips at the thought. Pushing your dress down your hips leaving your dress to pool at your feet.
“Pardon?”
“Please?” He asks leading you back to the bed kissing you softly as he does so. “Just lay back on the bed and let me eat your pussy.”
“Oh, ok.” You say not knowing that was a thing, him only using his fingers on you the last times you had sex. Him biting his lip while you lay down, him looking you up and down. His hard cock dripping in his breaches.
“Good girl.” He says kissing down you, stopping at your breasts for a moment. Sucking and nipping at them, grinning against you when you pull him hair while letting out soft moans. Wishing he could spend forever kissing and sucking on your breasts. “I can’t wait till these are full of milk.” He mumbles against your breasts, mouth latching onto your nipple while his hands kneed at them, other nipple rolling between his thumb and finger. Moaning when you pull his hair, nipping your nipple in retaliation. Before be continues kissing down you. Spreading your thighs and biting his lip when he sees the slick gathering between them. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet.”
“Do something husband.” You whine bucking your hips at him, desperate for something, anything, all you need is him.
“Gwayne.” He corrects kissing above your mound, looking at you through his eyes, a strand of red hair falling into his handsome face. “Call me Gwayne, please.”
“Do something, Gwayne.”
“That’s better.” He says softly spreading your lower lips licking his own before pressing a soft kiss to your pearl before sucking it, making you gasp at the sensation. His tongue feeling so much better than your fingers. “Fuck you taste so good.”
“Gwayne.” You moan, eyes closing while his tongue explores you, drawing figure eights on your pearl. His face covered in your slick, wishing he could spend eternity between your thighs. “Feels so good.”
“Good girl.” He murmurs into you, the vibrations of his voice making you whimper. While he sucks at your pearl finger pushing into you, exploring to find your spot. Smirking against you when he finds it, you just moaning in response. Another finger entering you, thrusting them in and out, while he licks at you.
“Gwayne.” You whine tugging at his hair, him moaning against you while he ruts into the bed. Feeling you clench around him, your orgasm building. “More. Please fuck me.”
“Are you sure?” He asks blowing on your pearl smirk when you squirm. Kissing back up you, nipping bits of you while he does so.
“Gwayne fuck me, now.” You demand, needing his cock in you. Feeling empty, desperate and needy. Pulling him into a kiss when he’s high enough up you, using his hair to guide him to you.
“As you wish my lady.” He mumbles against your lips, you feeling his try to push his breaches off without disturbing the kiss. Finally freeing his aching cock, his leaking tip hitting your thigh. You both moaning while he runs his cock head over your entrance, nudging your pearl a few times before sinking the tip into you. “Fuck.”
“More.” You whine bucking your hips making his cock go in deeper, still having a few more inches. You gasping into his mouth as he pushes into you, stopping for a few moments to let you adjust to him.
“Oh seven, fuck, you feel so good.” He groans into your face moving to hide into your shoulder, watching to hide the look of pure pathetic desire on his face. “You’re so good for me.” He whines hips uncontrollably bucking desperate to fuck you. “Shit, sorry.”
“Fuck.” You pant, needing him to move or let you take control. You fine with either. Him finally thrusting into you, finding a good rhythm when his thumb moves to your clit. “Fuck your babies into me.”
“I will my love, I will.” He groans, feeling you cleaning around him, you whining as you feel every ridge and vain of his cock thrust into you. Him reaching so deep inside of you it almost doesn’t seem possible. “I’ll fuck you full of me.”
“Please.” You whimper, his thumb rubbing your pearl your orgasm feeling closer and closer, feeling like your going to explode.
“You feel so good.” He moans, hips stuttering as he fights his orgasm not wanting to cum until you do.
“Fuck, Gwayne, I’m going to cum.” You gasp on the edge, seconds away from cumming. Clenching around him uncontrollably making him let out a little whimper at the feeling.
“Cum for me baby.” He demands, you immediately cuming for him. Your orgasm triggering his own, filling you with his hot cum while he fucks you both through the after shocks. “Fuck.”
“Don’t move.” You say using your legs to pull him back to you when he tries to move, both of you letting out a sigh at the sensation. “Can we stay like this for a while?”
“As you wish my lady.” He whispers into your shoulder laying on top of you, hiding his face back into your neck, pressing a soft kiss against it. Both of you falling asleep in each other’s embrace.
-
“Shall I go back to my chambers?” You ask a while later, you waking up as you needed a pee. Him whining when you left him momentarily, both of you blaming the after effects of sex. You both just laying next to each other now, unaware the other wanted to cuddle as well.
“No, the maester said we should sleep next to each other.” Gwayne says sleepily, know he has to be up early for training but staying awake to be with you.
“Ok, should be talk about rules?” You ask rolling onto your side to face him, him already facing you.
“What rules?” He asks, unsure of what you could mean.
“Well he said at least once a day, so should we have a schedule or something?” You ask, unsure how to broach the subject.
“I think we should try twice a day, if possible.” He says looking at you with an expression you can’t make out.
“Morning and evening?” You offer, thinking those would be the best time as you’re both busy during the day.
“That sounds good.” He says softly, brushing a hair out of your face. “We best go to sleep.”
“Goodnight husband.”
“Goodnight wife.”
-
You’re woken by the feeling of kisses being pressed into your neck, Gwayne whispering things into you as he does so. “Wake up my lady, I have to leave soon.”
“What time is it?” You groan hiding your face in the pillow. Feeling him smiling against you, while he kisses your neck.
“Just after dawn, but I have training soon.” He says feeling guilty for waking you, but you two having agreed to have sex in the mornings. “I’m sorry, but you said we should try for our baby in the mornings as well.”
“Fuck me like this.” You say moving you lay on your side, grateful you fell asleep naked. Too tired to do any of the work, knowing you’ll make it up to him later. Your sleepiness removing all remnants of a filter.
“Really?” He laughs, pulling you closer to him. Slotting in behind you, his hard cock pressing into the plush of your arse.
“I’ll ride you later to make it up to you.” You mumble taking his hand to rest between your legs, letting out a breathless moan when he starts playing with your clit.
“Shit, you can’t say things like that to me this early in the morning.” He groans into you while pushing his dick into you, both of you moaning at the feeling. Him not moving for a moment wanting to savour the sensation.
“Fuck me Gwayne.” You whine grinding against him. “Give me a baby.”
“As my lady wife wishes.”
-
Gwayne hisses your name while you drag him down the corridor and pushing him into a hidden alcove. “We can’t, we have guests!” He whispers shouts letting you push him up against the wall. “We can miss one evening.”
“Fuck me.” You whisper against him, your hand going into his breaches feeling his cock already half hard. Making him buck into your hand while you play with it. “Please.”
“We have to be quick.” He says quickly caving, lifting your skirts fingers going straight to your core and moving your small cloth out of the way. “Fuck, how are you already so wet?”
“I have a very handsome husband.” You say moaning when he swaps your positions, you now up against the wall, him lifting your leg while he rubs his cock head over your opening, nudging your pearl as he does so before finally pushing into you. Having no need to prep you as you’re already dripping and you’ve got at most 10 minutes. “Fuck, Gwayne.”
“Shh, my love.” He whispers catching your lips in a kiss. “We have to be quiet, can you do that for me?”
-
“How much longer do you think you’ll be?” You ask your husband a few weeks later, you stood in the doorway to his private solar. Watching him work, wishing his hands were on you instead of writing. Nether of you being able to be apart for to long, despite for each other all the time. You having taken to having sex during lunch as well. You not that happy he’s working late on reports and ledges for his cousin when he has better things to do, namely you.
“A while.” He sighs leaning back in his chair holding his arms out to you. Wanting you to join him, even if just for a moment. “I don’t understand half of these ledgers.”
“Let me have a look.” You say sneakily locking the doors before walking over to him. “I used to help my father when I was younger.”
“You don’t have to.” He says softly wrapping his arms around your waist and hiding his face in your neck when you sit in his lap.
“I want to.” You reassure, also knowing if you do it will be done a lot faster. You both sitting in silence for a few minutes while you work, him kissing your neck every so often. You hiding your smile when you feel his cock hard beneath you, your plan working as you’ve been grinding on him every so often. Pretending you’re just trying to get comfortable. “Are you alright?”
“I have an idea.” He says kissing your neck, just wanting to be close to you.
“What the idea?” You ask, smirk on your lips as you correct a mistake you almost made.
“You sit on me, while we work.” At your fake confused expression he clarifies. “My, uh, cock, if you will, we could.”
“That’s a good idea.” You say hiding your smile while his cheeks heat up, worried you would have said no. “Undo your breaches, I’m not wearing my small cloth anyway.”
“Pardon?”
-
“I’m with child!” You shout excitedly running into Gwayne private solar, not caring you’re not being lady like. You feeling pure joy at the new the maester just told you. “We’re having a baby!”
“Really?” He asks in excitement quickly getting up and pulling you into his arms.
“Really.” You say massive smile on your face. “I think we should celebrate.” You whisper lips brushing his while you both smile. Him knowing exactly what you’re insinuating.
“What about the babe?” He asks, teasing you. Kissing your cheek before kissing down your neck.
“The maester said we can continue as normal, for the time being anyway.” You say breathlessly, not having had him morning given your nausea.
“But you’ve gotten what you want, I’ve put a baby in you.” Your handsome husband whispers, nipping at your sweet spot. “You don’t need me anymore.”
“I need you, Gwayne Hightower.” You saycupping his face in your hands making him stop kissing your neck so you can look at each other. “I will always need you.”
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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!
