#fighter pilot miniminter

Gunshots rang out across the countryside. Gunshots. They'd come back to kill us all. Simon pushed me towards camp, as if to tell me to run. Maybe that was our first mistake. Maybe we should have stayed together. Maybe things wouldn't have gone so horribly wrong.

All I really remember was the yelling. It was German, but I couldn't understand. I'd never learned German. I'd never had a reason. I reached around behind me.

Simon. Where was Simon?

Maybe looking back was my mistake. Maybe this was all my fault. Silly of me to pin any of it on Simon.

"Vivienne, no!"

A bullet lodged into the dirt next to my feet. Simon was struggling with one of the soldiers, trying to pry a gun from his hands. Another shot went off as they struggled, and the world slowed down.

It felt like everything was moving in slow motion. I could see it coming towards me. I knew I couldn't move out of the way. I didn't know where it was going to hit me. I just knew it would. And I knew it was probably going to kill me.

Simon hadn't realized yet just where that bullet was going. Time hadn't slowed down for him. He was still trying to fight off that soldier.

Pain shattered across my chest. My chest, that's where it would hit me. Where it had with me. The impact threw me backwards. I hit the ground harder than I ever had before. I couldn't move. I couldn't try to run.

Everything that had happened flashed before my eyes. Simon and I fighting, running for our lives the first time, waking up next to him, kissing him... I was never going to get the chance to love Simon Minter. I was never going to see the man who hadn't put up a wall around himself.

I watched his head turn. I watched the realization hit him. Simon let go of the gun and he ran. He ran straight to me. It was all still in slow motion. But the edges of my vision were fading. The sound of his voice was so distant, like we were swimming.

I slowly brought my hand up. My chest didn't hurt anymore. Maybe I'd miraculously been spared a horrible injury and I was just disoriented. Then I felt the warm stickiness on my fingers and I knew that wasn't true. I was going to die on the French countryside. Maybe my brother would survive his time in the navy, maybe our father wouldn't be left alone. And then there was Simon. Beautiful, sweet Simon.

I tried to scream, to call him, but it was like there was a glass case around my lungs.

Simon...Simon...Si

Simon's POV

She was gone by the time I reached her. Her eyes were glassy, her curls falling out of her pins. This was my fault. This was all my fault.

I knelt to the ground, lifting the lifeless body off of the mud. No one came near. The fucking Germans only showed humanity when a girl to their liking was dead. I had said I wouldn't cry while I was at war. Swore to my mum even that I wouldn't shed a tear no matter what happened. But kneeling there, holding Vivienne Churchill's broken body, I cried. I cried without restraint. I held her beautiful head and I cried.

Lucy and Kitty found me in the field, holding Vivi. They knelt before me, to see if she was really gone. But I couldn't bring myself to let them touch her, to hold her. This was supposed to be the night I finally won her over. She was supposed to be mine.

"Minter."

I went rigid at the sound of my commander's voice. I looked up, red eyed and tear streaked. My commander had been my mate before we'd gone to war. Joshua Bradley. He'd wanted to be a ranker and I'd wanted to be a flying ace. Somehow we'd ended up here together.

"Simon..."

"I killed her."

"No, those bloody fucking Germans killed her."

"I had my hands on the gun that put a bullet in her."

"Simon, you're going home."

"I-"

"Pilot Minter, with the recall of your squadron, I charge you with accompanying the body of Miss Vivienne Churchill home for burial."

Yes, Wing Commander."

Two days later I left France, accompanying Vivienne's body in an ornate casket, a British flag draped to cover the top. "She'd taken fancy to you I think," Lucy whispered, passing me to find a seat along the wall of our measly ship. The prime minister's great niece was being brought home in a casket and this is the best they could scrounge up? Damn near criminal. Vivienne Churchill deserved the best goddamn ship the British Navy could offer.

Sunday, we got the evening off. Lucy and Ann managed to wire up the radio to get a music broadcast and nearly the whole camp was dancing in the mess tent. Not me. I was sitting on a large rock out by the searchlights.

"Shouldn't you be with your tent mates?"

Simon was stood about three feet from me, hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked a bit surprised to see me.

"I could ask why you aren't letting the girls throw themselves at you. You're the most eligible bachelor in camp."

"And the lads all wouldn't mind you warming their cot but it looks like neither of us had those thoughts tonight."

Simon climbed up next to me, nudging me a bit so that we could sit side by side. I looked out at the ever darkening countryside and sighed. I'd loved trips to the countryside as a girl. They'd been a chance to get away from Great Uncle Winston and live like a normal English girl. My brother and I had always raced in the fields next to the cottage our family stayed in. Where was George now?

"Vivi?"

"What? Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"I asked if you were okay. With your mum being killed last month...most girls would return home"

"I'm alright. My father was home, that's what matters."

"Do you have any other-"

"A brother. George. He's in the Navy. Captain of a submarine."

"Bloody captain of one of those things?"

"He's quite proud of his rank. One of the quickest to climb in the Navy." I smiled, thinking of him. George and I had been a lot friendlier than most siblings. He was four years my elder and had never much teased me or picked on me.

"And what about you? Is there only one Minter?"

"No, I've two older brothers. Johnny's an intelligence officer back in London and Nick is a crewman on a battleship."

"And you're the prestigious fighting ace."

"Don't know about prestigious."

I was about to reply when a defining boom rattled the ground. Simon and I were both knocked clean off the rock and fell to the mud below. He took my shoulders and pulled us both up against the rock, hoping to cover us from aerial attack. My ears rung, deafeningly so. We were under attack.

"We have to go ba-"

"They're after the planes, Vivi. They won't go at the camp unless we try to make a run for it. We have to stay here."

"I don't want to! I want to go back to camp!"

"Vivi, shut your mouth. I don't want bloody shot."

I turned my head and hid my face in Simon's shoulder. I didn't want to watch. I didn't want to watch them blow us to bits. Simon held my hand, trying to rub his thumb over my knuckles reassuringly.

"We're going to die."

"We're not going to die. Vivi, we're far enough from the planes they won't hit us."

"Simon-"

His hand came down over my mouth and he gave me a warning look. I stayed quiet and then I heard boots behind us. Their voices were gruff and I didn't understand them. I looked at Simon, fear making my eyes grow wide. He shook his head. The footsteps retreated and he moved his hand off my mouth.

"Come on, we need to go now."

Simon took off back towards camp, all but dragging me behind him. I was stumbling along, boots sticking in the mud. I kept looking over my shoulder, ready to scream if I saw a German.

"Vivi, stop looking back."

"But-"

"I don't bloody care, stop looking back."

I stared straight ahead the rest of the way. Lucy and Ann were quick to pull me from Simon's grasp and into their tight embraces. Evelyn and Kitty were watching with concern as they waited to fawn over me.

"What were you thinking, Minter? I don't care if you've got your bonny arse fancying one of the searchlighters, you lot can't go sneaking off."

"It wasn't Simon's fault."

My voice silenced the whole of the mess tent. Simon's commanding officer turned and looked me up and down.

"So you're a little whore and willing to admit it?"

"For your information, sir, Simon and I both needed to clear our heads. I don't smoke and I don't know what his excuse is. I went to sit out by the searchlights and he ended up sitting with me. And before you call someone a bloody whore, don't make so much noise with your own."

Everyone was stunned at my outburst. I was usually quiet and respectful when I wasn't in my tent. But the near capture had me angry.

"You'll not-"

"I'll not speak to you like that? Do you know who I am, you bastard? Vivienne Churchill. You'll shut your mouth or I'll make sure you get demoted."

"We've a Churchill?" one of the pilots called. Everyone erupted in chatter. Very few at camp new I was a Churchill. Until now. Now they were all well aware.

"Vivi, I believe maybe we should step out."

Simon took my elbow and led me out into the night air. My pins must have been coming loose because I had curls escaping my hair cover and blowing in my face.

"You didn't have to defend me, Vivi."

"You didn't do anything wrong. You don't deserve punished."

"After yesterday I thought you'd be hoping I was stripped of my ranks."

"You're a good ace. Arrogant, but good."

"You seem to be a bit arrogant yourself."

"I'm a Churchill, we're all arrogant."

"Come on."

Simon took my hand and headed towards the bunk tents, and the men's at that. I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. My attempts to escape became increasingly more noticeable and he stopped.

"Is there something wrong, Vivi?"

"I don't want to do whatever you're planning. I want to go to my own tent."