#Just-a-Snappin

[thatsrightice]

Before the war, Harry Crosby had started school for his master’s degree in literature at the University of Iowa. He was regarded as a very smart guy, “borderline genius” by some of the others he served with and yet infuriatingly humble.

On one particular training mission with the Just-a-Snappin’ crew, the weather was good and Crosby knew where they were at every second of the fight, so he pretended to be a tour guide of sorts.

"Navigator to crew, if you look out the right window you can see The Wash."

“Waist, here. What's The Wash?"

I told him. "It's that huge inlet on the coast." In a few minutes I hit the button again. "Now if you look on the port side you can see Robin Hood's hometown, Nottingham. That's Sherwood Forest right by it."

A string of Rogers.

And later on in that same flight…

I tried to keep the crew entertained. I pointed out some places with funny English names, like "Ribble" and "Barrow-in-Furness." I showed them Balmoral Castle, Gretna Green, and Newcastle.

The best part is, only Crosby was allowed to do such a thing during the flight. Blakely would get rather miffed if anyone else tried to initiate any funny business over open-mic.

[ktredshoes]

A playlist in tribute to the B-17 crew of Just a-Snappin'

Let me know if the link doesn't work.

Thanks and smooches to @shoshiwrites and @precious-little-scoundrel for kibitizing and enabling!

[spinteresting]

Masters of the Air should have followed Just A Snappin’ on the Bremen mission. I can’t believe we didn’t get to see it.

Give me ultra competent pilot Blakely. Always calm Jack Kidd. Crosby and Douglass almost getting hit.

Give me Crosby managing to find a place for them to land in England. The crash into the tree.

Then give me Douglass getting promoted to Group Bombardier at the same time Crosby got promoted to Group Navigator.

[roychewtoy]

[ginabaker1666]

The Way I Am

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

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

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

Part Two Follow along with the Eight To The Bar Playlist

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

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

“You running the show alone today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah? How much then, Miss Val?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have my word.” He nodded. 

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

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

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

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

“Jeez, Val, don’t look so busy!”

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

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

“I’m here and not home so, yea.”

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

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

“Valencia…”

“Chicky…”

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

“Okay, whatever you say, Chicky.”

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

“Valencia…” Harding warned. 

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

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

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

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

“No, he did not get near them.”

“Good, I’ll take one then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jack? Coffee?”

“Sure, Val, thanks.”

“Remind me again…”

“Just black.”

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

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

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

“That’s the plan.” 

“Good, those boys are working hard.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” 

“Did you see what tail number it was?”

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

“Get in the Jeep, come on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck sake! That was them?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh honey, I know…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Meatball! No!!” 

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

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

——————————————————————————————————

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

“Can I walk ya to the club, Val?”

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

“Honest to God, just wanna walk ya.”

“Curt?”

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

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

“Olive, I’ll catch up.”

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

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

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

“Curt, I’m alright. Honest…”

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

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

“Oh sure, yea I’m just fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

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

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

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

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

“B’Sides… if anything happens-“

“Curt…”

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

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

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

“How can you put that on me, huh?”

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

“Fine! I promise, okay?” 

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

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

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

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“Nah, I’m very believable.” 

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

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

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

“Ladies room.”

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

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

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

“I was starting to wonder where you were.” 

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

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

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

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

“You okay sweetheart?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well then, I’ll be back with those.”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“You know what for.” She grinned. 

“Well, in that case, you’re welcome.”

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

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

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

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

“I was just-“

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

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

“Oh uh…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You lot up for a group shot?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks Joe!”

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

“Humor a poor sap with a dance?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think so?”

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

“Love, huh? That’s a big admission.” 

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

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

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

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

“That’s what’s bothering you…”

“Nothing's bothering me.”

“Please, don’t lie to me…” 

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

“Of course honey. Come on.”

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

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

“You heard about Baynard.” He guessed. 

“Tattie and I saw it happen.”

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

“Jesus…”

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

“Honey…”

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything honey.”

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

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

“Everett, no…no don’t say that.”

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

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

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

“You weren’t supposed to see me cry.”

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

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

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

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

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know! A big huge thank you to @hephaestn for the stunning new mood board.

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @precious-little-scoundrel

[kindahoping4forever]

📸

[winniemaywebber]

Honeysuckle Rose • Part 4

part one part two part three

masterlist

mood board by @hephaestn

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

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

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

“Maybe it's the booze?”

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

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

“Why not?” Olive giggles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

“Wanna hold your hand.” 

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

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

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

“London? Wow, why?”

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

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

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

“Tough, huh?”

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

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

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

“Hey, no. You gotta stop that.”

“Why, Dougie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Dougie.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Olive,” she smiles. 

“Joan,” she greets. “How are you?”

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

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

“I do wish you two had worked out–”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Granny!” Olive shrieks. 

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you need something for lunch?”

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me, too.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coming right up. No sugar?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I assume so,” Olive shrugs. “Why?”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

“Hi, Benny. How was your day?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So, how was your first day?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, shit. Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mastersoftheair]

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

[rainymoodlet]

taking anaya’s advice, dallas decided to forgo the stress of another blind date and treat themselves to a drink! 🌵 and just when they weren’t looking to meet anyone… in walks mr. anjelo morlind 👀

[kafka-ohdear]

going back to luz my bbi boi hehe >:PPP

[itstheheebiejeebies]

Utterly tragic, local nerd realizes their favorite plane doesn't have its name painted on the nose of it in MotA

[thatsrightice]

Harry Crosby in Algeria following the Regensburg mission

ft. the crew of Just-a-Snappin’

Photos are from the collection of Edmund “Forky” Forkner, Radio Operator of Just-a-Snappin’

[jmdbjk]

Chaos, but in tiny

This man really does tickle me… he went through all this:

…in order to get this post for his instagram:

Well done, Photographer, for being able to capture this moment in all that tiny tornado of chaos! WELL DONE!

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[a-chaotic-dumbass]

who wouldve thought that writing and working on the floor for a year wouldnt do wonders for my back

[ginabaker1666]

I've Got A Crush (On You)

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

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

There are days at Thorpe Abbotts that some would call low maintenance. Those are the days where Benny DeMarco is just a boy with his dog, John Egan gets to play baseball, and Everett Blakely is just a guy who gets to romance a pretty girl the best way he can given the circumstances.

Part One Follow along with the Eight To The Bar Playlist

Warnings: Making out with Blakely should be a warning in itself, so, that and some heavy petting. Proceed as you see fit.

Some days, life on base moved quickly. There was the hustle of early mornings, brewing enough coffee to indeed fuel an army, and make sure that each man was sent off with a wink and a smile before a mission. The sounds of engines roaring from the hardstand, the ground crew shouting at each other as each plane taxied and ultimately, took off into the clouds. Those were the days that seemed to never end; waiting for the return with bated breath, counting the planes as they approached the air field, looking for red or green flares to indicate if a fort was carrying wounded onboard. 

Then there were the days that seemed to stretch into nothingness. Breakfast in the Mess Hall was a relaxed affair. The boys would sit around and sip their coffee leisurely, the Red Cross girls all crowded at a table near the back, gossiping about this and that, until one of the boys would walk by and silence them with a wink and a smile. They would spend those days helping out the nurses in the hospital, refilling and restocking what they’d need when a mission day would roll around. They would prepare what they could on the Clubmobile truck, or indulge themselves in some reading, or a walk into town if the weather was favorable. Some of the girls who were handy with a needle and thread would offer to patch up the stray jacket, or sew a patch to someone's sleeve if they needed. None of the Flyboy’s were going to do that themselves if they could help it. On days like those, Val would often be in Chick Harding’s office, to type out the odd letter or mission debrief that wasn’t too gory. 

“You can’t see that one,” He’d said one day. “It’s too much.”

“I grew up with Curt Biddick. Nothing is too much.”

From that point on, they’d come to respect each other in some weird way. Val suspected it had to do with the fact that he typed slower than her grandmother back in New York and she couldn’t type at all. 

Today was one of those days. The base was a bit relaxed; Ken Lemmons and his crew were working tirelessly to patch up the forts that had come back from the last raid. Some of the pilots were hanging around the hardstand, watching to make sure their planes were in good shape, asking questions or simply keeping the ground crew company. Benny DeMarco was playing fetch with Meatball in the field, taking advantage of the rare sunshine. Tattie had coerced Bucky into driving her down to the hardstand with coffee and donuts for the boys working, and Helen was helping stock the hospital. Val had been summoned to Harding’s office after breakfast, and as lunchtime rolled around, she was putting the finishing touches on the report of a mission that had been green flares on the return. 

Pushing back from the typewriter, she stretched her arms out, before standing, pulling the paper from behind the ribbon, and stacking it on top of the others she had already completed. Chick was sitting at his desk, puffing away at his cigar, reading the paper when she approached.

“Val, you should have been a correspondence gal instead of joining the Red Cross.” He grinned, hand outstretched to accept her offering of the reports. 

“And miss out on making coffee and donuts for you fellas?” She rolled her eyes with a sarcastic grin, folding her hands under her bust. “Is that all you got for me today?”

“Yea, go on. Looks like Biddick is lingering outside, kids probably waiting for you.” He craned his head back to peer out the window, spotting Curt sitting on the stairs of the control tower, smoking a cigarette. 

“Pain in my ass.” She shook her head with a sigh, and offered a wave as she turned to leave the office. 

“You always call him that.” Chick called after her. 

“Because he is!” She called back from down the hall, not missing the slight scowl from some of the secretaries. Apparently having the affections of both Curt and Ev Blakely had put her out of their favor, in some strange way. They didn’t mind when she brought them the leftover donuts from the truck though; then she was in their favor it seemed. 

Pushing the door open, she immediately spotted Curt, still on the stairs of the control tower. Walking across the path towards him, she stood, blocking the sun from his face with her hands on her hips. Just as she looked down at him, he looked up, a cheeky smile on his face, his crush cap sitting at a jaunty angle on his head. 

“Heya!”

“Hi Curt…”

“Why do you sound so put off, eh? I just wanted to say hi to my best friend!”

“You want something.”

“I can’t just say hi?”

“Sure you can” She began walking towards the direction of the Red Cross hut, and Curt quickly jumped to his feet to follow her. “But it’s usually accompanied by a favor, so spit it out.”

“Val…” He groaned.

“Curtis Biddick. Spit it out.”

He heaved a giant sigh, before launching into the favor she knew he needed from her. 

“You uh, remember the other night at the pub?”

“When you clocked that RAF clown? Sure, I do.”

“I ripped my shirt.” He ducked his head down, looking anywhere but at Val. 

“Fuck sake, Curt…” 

“Could you please, please, be a doll and patch it up for me?”

“Your mother would give you a clip on the ear if she heard that.”

“I said please!”

“No, that you tore your shirt fighting.”

“Oh…” He whispered, and she could see him fighting the urge to get melancholy for home.

“Bring it by the hut after dinner and I’ll see what I can do.” She had finally conceded. 

“You’re the greatest, ya know that?”

“So you like to remind me,” She stopped outside the hut, turning to face him. “Not that I’m not enjoying this conversation, Curt, but this is where I leave you.”

“Yeah alright, bye doll face!” He tipped his hat and gave her an exaggerated half bow, before turning and heading in the opposite direction of the Red Cross hut. 

Just as she was about to push the door open to the hut, a jeep came rounding the corner, the gravel crunching under its tires. She was quite surprised to see Helen in the passenger seat, Harry Crosby behind the wheel and Bubbles in the back.  

“Well, look at this trio!” She grinned as Harry stopped the jeep in front of her. 

“Val, get in!” Helen grinned, waving her hand wildly. “We’re headed down to the hardstand!”

“What’s going on down there?” She conceded to Helen’s request, climbing into the jeep and settling next to Bubbles, who tossed an arm over her shoulder almost instantly.

“Uh, Bubbles?”

“Croz has a lead foot. Trust me.”

Nodding, Val leaned forward just a bit so that she could speak to Helen.

“So why are we going to the hardstand?”

“Well, DeMarco was playing fetch with Meatball, but when Bucky showed up, it turned into a small ball game with some of the boys.” Val didn’t miss the wink that Helen threw her way, indicating that a certain Captain Blakely was likely to be down there with the other men, and that Val might like to witness the sight for herself. 

“We all know how Egan is when it comes to baseball…” Val rolled her eyes, one hand gripping the seat as Croz took a particularly sharp turn. Bubbles tightened his grip on her shoulder, and she didn't miss the knowing look he gave her as if to say I told you so. In a bid to distract herself from Croz’s formidable driving, she continued the conversation. 

“You two plan on joining the game?” Val turned to look at Bubbles. 

“Oh no, but it’s good fun to see the Major pretend he’s Mickey Mantle.” Bubbles snickered, loosening his grip on her shoulder as Croz turned onto the road that led to the hardstand, the jeep coming to a stop.  

It was no surprise that John Egan had organized a semi professional- his words- shirts versus skins ball game that had Gale Cleven shaking his head from where he was perched on his own jeep. The Major looked like an extra from Test Pilot, but that wasn’t immediately what pulled Val’s attention away from the trio she was with. It was Everett Blakely standing in the makeshift outfield, uniform shirt unbuttoned, green army issue tank tucked into his trousers. His hair, normally styled to perfection, had come free of the gel, and was curling over his forehead. His hazel eyes were hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses and he was laughing at something Hambone had said. When the bombardier caught sight of her, his sharp elbow had lodged itself in Everett’s ribs, the pilot scowling at his friend before following the other man's gaze. His grin widened as soon as he spotted Val.

The brunette perched on the hood of a jeep in her Red Cross jumpsuit, legs tucked underneath her criss cross applesauce, her red lips stretched into a smile as she laughed at something Helen had said. He watched as Tattie bounded over towards the other two girls, the trio now squeezing to make room so they could all watch comfortably from the hood of the jeep. Croz and Bubbles remained with them. They kept offering up commentary that he couldn't hear but wished desperately that he could, because they kept making Val laugh, and Everett Blakely wanted to be the one to do that. Especially on a day like today, with the sun shining across the airfield, the forts sitting pretty on the hardstand like statues, everyone was relaxed for a moment, and there was a pretty girl that he wanted to give all of his time to. He was so lost in the daydream that he barely heard Brady yelling for him to look out, almost missed the baseball flying at his head, and was almost out for the count had Hambone not pushed him out of the way to grab it before it hit the ground. 

“Christ, Blakely!”

“Sorry!” He hollered, looking between Ham and Brady with apologetic eyes. 

“Stop making eyes at Val,” Hambone mumbled under his breath so only Ev could hear him. “You get knocked in the head, you’re going to see Smokey, not to the Red Cross hut, dummy.”

Everett winced then, realizing that the last place he wanted to land was the hospital under the watchful eye of Doc Stover and the nurses, because he had been careless. That would get him nowhere with Val except farther away than where he wanted to be. Chancing a glance in her direction, he found her gaze focused on him, the sly smile on her lips telling him she had caught him staring, and watched him almost take a baseball to his head. With a slight shake of her head, she gestured for him to focus back on what he was doing as Ken Lemmons made a valiant attempt at scoring a run. In the end, the ground crew chief had been unsuccessful in his at bat, and Bucky had shouted for the end of the inning. 

“SEVENTH INNING STRETCH!” He called across the field, gathering those in the outfield to join the rest of the men around the cluster of jeeps. 

“Christ Bucky, I’m standing right here.” Tattie scowled up at him, his shouting having been from his spot directly beside her. 

“Sorry Tat…”

“Yea, yea, always sorry.” She shoved him playfully. 

Val hadn’t noticed Everett come up behind her on the left, until he was leaning beside her, lighting a cigarette. 

“Better be careful out there.” She turned to him with a wink. 

“Can’t help it,” He blew a puff of smoke out in front of him. “Saw something pretty.”

“Flirt.”

“And proud of it, sweetheart.”

“Better not be flirting with anyone else, Captain.”

“Just you, sweet cheeks.”

Val wrinkled her nose at the nickname, plucking his cigarette from between his lips to take a drag, before handing it back to him. 

“Okay, doesn’t like sweet cheeks.”

“Sounds funny.” She shrugged. 

“Aright, sweetheart, won’t use it again.”

“That’s better.”

“Yea? You’re my sweetheart then?” He grinned, leaning forward so his elbows were placed either side of her now outstretched legs. 

“Thought I already was…” 

“In that case, save me a dance tonight?”

“Just one?” She grinned, leaning forward to bait him.

“As many as you want, beautiful.” He leaned forward, lips brushing her cheek, mustache tickling her skin, causing her to giggle. He was in deep. He knew it, she knew it, and their friends knew it. Thank god he knew how to swim. 

Val knew that Curt wasn’t going to listen when she told him to drop his ripped shirt off after dinner, because when she had gotten back to the Red  Cross hut with Helen and Tattie, she saw him sneaking out with one of the nurses on his heels. That explains why she hadn’t seen him down at the makeshift ballgame earlier. 

“Oh Christ, was he with her the whole afternoon?” Tattie grumbled. 

“Looks like it,” Helen sighed. “Now our hut is going to smell like Curt Biddick and whatever cheap perfume she wears.”

“Val, can’t you scare her a little?”

“You know the answer to that, Tat. But I’ll try and get through to Curt.”

“At least tell Biddick to do it somewhere else. We’re not running a brothel.”

“What was he even doing in there?”

“Ripped his shirt the other night and asked me to patch it up. I told him to drop it off after dinner, not while I wasn’t there.”

“You should make him wait,” Tattie turned from where she was currently propping the door open with a spare chair to air out the hut. “It stinks in here.”

“I would, but who wants to hear Harding hemming and hawing about it.”

Tattie conceded at that, and left to go sit outside to smoke, while Val got settled on her bed with a small sewing kit, and Curt’s shirt. 

After dinner had concluded, the men and women all retreated to their respective huts to get ready for a night in the Officers Club. The boys would change into their Class A uniforms, shedding their bomber jackets and outdoor attire. The woolen jackets that hung above their beds would be pressed until each seam was meticulous, and their accolades would be pinned to their collars on full display. Curt’s shirt had magically reappeared by his bunk after dinner, and he had no doubt that Val was responsible. 

The Red Cross girls would happily divest of their jumpsuits, and step into lingerie, pantyhose and a clean uniform skirt and white blouse. Their jackets proudly displayed the Red Cross logo on the shoulders, and their hair that may have been haphazardly pinned or up in a scarf to get through the day, would be reset and pinned almost as best as a salon back home could do it. Each girl armed with their Victory Red lipstick and a pack of smokes, they would step into their heels, link arms, and make their way to the Officers Club to join the men. 

The band was playing something upbeat, and Val knew it was only a matter of time before Bucky would be singing his heart out with them, to almost everyone’s dismay. He was currently nursing a whiskey off by the bar with Buck and Curt, and she just barely caught him regaling the pair of the events of today’s game, even though everyone knew that Gale Cleven didn’t like sports and Curt was giving the nurse from earlier a look from across the room. When her gaze met his, she didn’t miss the wince that overcame his face as he watched her entire demeanor change. 

“Let me get you a drink!” Were his first words, turning to face the bar and missing Val’s hand coming up to grab on his ear. “Oww! Valencia!”

“In my hut! Have you lost your mind!” 

“I went to drop off my shirt and she, well…”

“My hut is not a brothel. Tattie’s pissed, Curt, so you’d better apologize.”

“I’m sorry!”

“To her, not me, though I will accept it.”

“Can you let go of my ear now? Jesus, what, did my Ma teach you that?”

“Get Tattie a drink and go over and apologize.” She relinquished his ear with one final tug, smoothing her own jacket before turning to Gale and John and offering them both a wide smile.

“Don’t know how you do it, Val, but you’re the only one he listens to.” Croz offered up from behind her. 

“Just a little tough love is all, Croz.”

“Well, it looks like he’s trying to smooth it over with Tattie.” Bubbles pipped up. Where one was, the other was not far behind. 

“She’s going to make him work for it,” Val laughed, turning back to the bar to order a drink. “And he should work for it. Brought that filthy nurse into our hut.”

“I’ll talk to Smokey,” Bucky offered. “She’s, uh, been a bit of a problem with some of the other men, and honestly, I don’t need anyone else getting sick.”

“Sick… oh my god! Did she… you weren’t kidding about Dye were you!”

Before Bucky could answer or Val could run off and find Helen and Tattie with the gossip, she felt a gentle hand at her elbow. She turned to find Everett standing in front of her, sharp as a tack in his uniform and holding a drink for her. 

“My hero!” Val cheered, accepting the drink from him with a smile, leaning up on her toes to drop a  kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Everett.”

“Saw you putting in some hard work with Curt, and thought you might be thirsty.”

“Oh Christ, I’m sorry you saw that.”

“The ear thing? Absolutely terrifying. My mother used to do that when I was a kid if I didn’t listen.”

“Sounds like your mother and I would get along.”

“I’m counting on it.” 

“Well aren’t you smooth.” Val winked, lifting the glass to her lips, taking a sip, not missing the way he watched her. 

With a quirk of his lips, Everett let his hand rest gently on Val’s back as he led her to a table that he had secured earlier with Douglass. He didn’t need to ask if she wanted to go sit with him, there was an understanding that seemed to just happen when the pair were together. Besides, he knew she’d want to nurse that first drink before he got her out on the dance floor- hopefully before John Egan decided to serenade them all. 

Approaching the table, Val found that Douglass was sitting between Helen and Tattie, and he looked absolutely engrossed in every word that passed between them. 

“You girls pick up a fourth while I was gone?” Val teased, sliding into the chair that Everett pulled out for her. He immediately took up the spot to her right, now sandwiched between her and Tattie, while Helen was to her left. 

“Don’t let him fool you, he’s good at the gossip.” Helen laughed, lighting a cigarette. 

“Oh! That reminds me!”

“Did you handle the nurse?” Tattie raised an eyebrow at her, causing both Everett and Douglass to turn to her with worried eyes. “Curt apologized by the way.”

“I saw, good.”

“Handle?” Douglass asked her. 

“I handled Curt.”

“What nurse? What exactly did Curt do?” Everett looked at her concerned, and she simply let her hand fall to his, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. 

“I caught him sneaking out of the Red Cross hut with you know who today…” she started. 

���That one gets around.” Douglass sighed, shaking his head. 

“My god, Doug, you are a gossip queen!” Helen grinned. “What else do you know?”

“Let Val finish her story, then we can peel back the many complicated layers of James Douglass!” Tattie cackled. 

“Well, when I mentioned it to Bucky, he said he would have a word with Smokey about her, because he doesn’t need any other guys getting sick.”

“What kind of sick could she-“

Both Everett and James turned to each other, looks of sheer disgust crossing their faces as they realized what Val had just said. They too had heard the rumor about Dye, but no one could really figure out how it had started,  if it was true, or who gave it to him. 

“It was true about Dye,” Val spoke a bit lower. “She gave him the clap…”

“Oh she’s vile!” Helen exclaimed. 

“She certainly is,” Val agreed, before turning to the boys. “Now you two, if you’re going to sit with us and listen in, it’s a secret. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” Douglass mock saluted, cigarette between two fingers. 

“Ev?”

“Not a word, sweetheart, I got it.”

“Good,” she grinned, draining her drink just as the band moved into something softer. “Now, I think it’s time for a dance.”

“What the lady wants, she gets.” Everett grinned, taking one last sip of his own drink before taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor. 

“You think he’s alright over there?” Val quirked an eyebrow over towards where Douglass still sat between Helen and Tattie. 

“Don’t worry about him, he’s in heaven.” Everett chuckled, spinning her once before gently pulling her close, wrapping one arm around her back, the other holding hers. 

“They’ll eat him alive.” She chuckled lowly, her cheek pressed against his as he swayed them slowly. 

“Don’t wanna talk about Dougie while I’m dancing with you.” He gave her hip a gentle pinch causing her to scoot just a fraction closer to him. 

The arm she had wrapped around him settled firmly in place, her fingers dancing through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Hmm, then what do you want to talk about?”

“How cute you looked sitting on that jeep today.”

“I was in my jumpsuit, that’s hardly cute honey.”

“I think it’s adorable.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely,” He pressed his nose against her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and perfume. “Everything about you is adorable.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever described me as adorable before,” she sighed. “Usually it’s difficult, loud, or my personal favorite, unladylike.”

“Not a shot,” Ev pulled back to look at her, his hazel eyes finding her green. “Anyone who said that didn’t know what a good thing they had.”

“You really are something, Everett Blakely.” Val sighed, moving back into him to let her head rest against his shoulder. 

“I hope that’s a good thing…”

Before Val could respond, the band picked up again, Blue Skies filling the room followed by a collective groan by everybody present. Everett and Val broke apart, now standing side by side as they waited for the inevitable. 

“ITS MY SONG, BUCK!” 

Looking towards the band, they both clocked Bucky dancing his way behind the microphone, his arms flailing wildly as he danced along with the music before he broke into song. 

“Has Buck never told him just how bad he sounds?” Val looked up at Everett from under his arm, her eyebrows almost meeting her hairline. 

“We’ve all told him,” He shook his head. “He doesn’t seem to care that he sounds like a donkey.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Come on, let’s get a drink.”

Everett let his arm that was around her shoulder guide her back towards the bar, where Helen and Tattie were currently with Douglass and Benny DeMarco, Meatball at their feet. The poor dog wasn’t sure who he wanted to give his attention to at the moment, so he seemed to be moving between them. 

“Cute date, Benny!” Val grinned, bending down to scratch behind Meatball's ears. 

“I thought so too,” Demarco grinned. “He loves you girls.”

“Aww well we love him too.” Helen grinned, joining Val in giving the husky some attention. 

“Tat?” Benny looked over at her. “Do you not love him?”

“Of course I love him,” She shook her head. “I just don’t love when his fur is all over the clubmobile.”

“She’s got a point, Benny. Last week my donut had fur all over it.” John Brady had joined their group, the Upstate New Yorker’s usual stoic demeanor seemed softer in the lighting of the Officers Club. Val suspected he had gotten a letter from his sweetheart back home. 

Standing from where she was still crouched with the dog, she smoothed her skirt, accepting the martini glass from Everett with a grateful smile, his arm moving to wrap around her waist. He ducked down, lips pressed against her ear and spoke so only she could hear him. 

“Want to take these drinks to go?”

“Go where?” She looked up at him. 

“You trust me?” 

She answered without hesitation. 

“Yes.”

The pair made a quiet exit from the club; not saying goodbye to their friends, Everett led her out into the balmy summer air. He quickly lit two cigarettes, passing one to her as they walked, trying not to spill their drinks as they crossed the cobblestones and rocks that filled the paths between huts. 

“Everett where are we going?”

“Well, that jeep right there for starters,” he grinned, tugging her along to the jeep that sat parked outside the officers hut. John Egan’s jeep. 

“Is that Bucky’s?”

“Yea…”

“Does he know you’re borrowing it?”

“If I have to listen to him sing, this is the least he could do.” 

He guided her to the passenger side, and once she was settled in the seat, he handed her his whiskey, before making his way around and into the driver's seat. 

“Hang onto that for a minute, okay?” His words muffled as he spoke around the cigarette currently wedged between his lips. 

“Alright… but you still haven’t told me where we’re taking the stolen jeep.”

“Borrowed, not stolen,” He winked. “And can’t I surprise you?”

“Sure, sure,” She grinned. “But I’m not sure what’s out here that I haven’t seen already.”

“I’m sure I can change that.” He teased, turning the key in the ignition and shifting into gear. 

He drove them away from the Officers Club and the huts, down past the control tower and offices until finally he turned onto the road that led to the hardstands. Though he was a much better driver than Croz had been, Val still struggled to keep both drinks from spilling as he caught the occasional stray rock under the tires. 

When the jeep finally slowed, coming to a stop, Val looked up and immediately gasped at the fort that they had parked in front of. She knew they were big, but to see one so close, and with only the headlights of the jeep shining on it, made the B-17 parked in front of her look both eerie and incredible. The words Just-A-Snappin were painted on the nose, and Val couldn’t help the surprised look on her face as she turned to Everett. 

“This is yours!”

“Yea, this is my other girl.” He grinned, turning the engine off and pocketing the keys. “Thought you might like to see her.”

Val couldn’t help the shudder that ran through her when he called her his girl. That, coupled with the image of him in the pilot's seat, controlling something so incredibly powerful, made her press her knees together without even realizing she had done so. 

“Wow… she’s stunning. I mean it, Ev!”

“She’s good to us,” He reached towards her and took the whiskey glass from her hand. “Gotten us there and back safe so far.”

“Well, she sounds pretty amazing,” Val turned in her seat to face him, tucking her legs up underneath her. 

“Wanna go up?” He grinned. 

“Now!?”

“No time like the present. Let me see if Ken left the stairs out.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, had he hopped out of the jeep, the tail end of his cigarette between two fingers, whiskey glass barely secure in the other three. She watched as he strutted over to the plane, checking for the stairs, before ducking back under the wing and shouting over to her. 

“I’ll have to give you a boost, honey.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No stairs, so we're going to have to go up through the hatch.”

“Uh, Ev?” She was kneeling on the front seat of the jeep, one hand on the windshield to steady herself, the other clutching her half finished cocktail. 

“Yea?”

“Where exactly is the hatch?” 

He laughed outright, but made his way back over to her. Extending a hand once close enough, he helped her step out of the jeep, and walked her over to the plane. They ducked under the wing, and finally came to a stop off to the side, a small door on the belly of the plane with the words Jerry, if you can read this, start prayin painted on the side. 

He reached up and pulled the small hatch open, and Val just stood there staring at him. 

“Wait so, if you give me a boost how the hell are you getting in?”

“Don’t worry about me,” He drained his glass, gesturing for her to do the same. “I’ll get up same as I always do.”

Val nodded, and handed over her now empty martini glass, waiting as Everett placed it on the ground next to his own empty glass. They’d have to remember to grab them on the way out, lest Kenny and the ground crew find them in the morning. 

“Okay,” Ev dusted his hands off on his slacks, coming to stand behind her. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be…”

“On three then, I’m going to just, pick you up.”

Turning over her shoulder to catch his gaze, she gave a wink before speaking. 

“Don’t let me fall.”

“I won’t,” His hands came to rest gently on his waist. “Precious cargo.”

Adjusting his grip, he counted just in her ear, his warm breath fanning against her skin. When he got to three, she felt herself being lifted off the ground, and into the small hatch of the plane above her. Using her arms to help lessen her weight against him, she hauled herself up as best as she could given her skirt, until she was seated on the floor of the plane. The darkness that surrounded her was eerie, and she was about to say as much before Ev’s hand appeared in the hatch with a small flashlight. 

“Here, hold this a minute while I get in.”

Val positioned the light on the opening for him, and watched in absolute awe as he gripped the top of the hatch and pulled himself up, swinging his legs into the plane in one fell swoop. The sheer strength that it must take for him to do that had fireflies dancing in her stomach at what he must be hiding under that neatly pressed uniform. 

Once on his feet, he took the flashlight in one hand, and one of hers in the other, before guiding her along to what she could only assume was the cockpit. 

“Down here’s the nose. Dougie and Bubbles camp out here when we’re up.” He pointed to a small desk, and what she recognized as a Norden Bombsight. She had seen it in reports in Chick’s office but never up close. 

“I’ve seen those in the reports in Chicky’s office, but never up close.” Val whispered, running her fingers gently over the equipment. 

“Wait… you call him Chicky?!”

“It’s a joke, really.” She turned to him. “I dared Tattie to do it in exchange for a pack of smokes and she’s never one to turn down a dare.”

“That’s actually the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Do not call him that to his face. Only the girls get to do it.”

“Oh I won’t. But I might have to dare Dougie one of these days.”

She swatted his shoulder, a gentle slap, but he caught her hand before she could pull it back. He turned and looked up, before gesturing with one arm to the small step up towards the cockpit. 

“Careful, it’s one step but it’s big.”

Nodding, Val held onto his one hand, before using the other to balance as she stepped up and into the cockpit of the fort. This, she could already tell, was Everett’s favorite part of the plane. 

“Left or right?” She called down to him. 

“The right,” He appeared behind her, and as she shuffled into the seat on the right, he settled himself in the left seat. “Prettiest co-pilot I’ve ever had.”

“Oh is that what I am? Your co-pilot?”

“Well, you’re in the co-pilot's seat,” He grinned, reaching over and taking her hand. “Unless you’d rather be the pilot. Lots of responsibility when you’re the pilot.”

Val let her eyes sweep over all of the buttons and controls, shifts and knobs, dials and numbers. She couldn’t make sense of a single one of them, except for the yoke in front of where Everett sat. That much she knew was for steering the plane. 

“How do you remember all of this?”

“A lot of practice. And a good co-pilot.”

“You and Via have been flying together all this time?”

“Yea. Dougie’s always been in the nose, and Bubbles and his lucky snow globe are always on the maps.”

“Sounds like a pretty reliable crew.”

“I’ve got room for one more, if you’re interested?”

“Oh really?”

“Yea…”

“What’s the job description? I’m already awfully busy pouring coffee for all the Flyboy’s and making sure everyone gets a donut. Meatball fur free, of course.”

Everett laughed softly and gave her arm a gentle tug, pulling her over into his lap in the pilot's seat. Her legs were stretched out to the side, feet just barely touching where she had been sitting. His arms came to rest around her waist, while one of hers wrapped around his neck. The other had a handful of the lapel of his jacket. 

“Hey there.” She grinned.

“You are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her nose. “Have I told you that yet tonight?”

“Maybe, but I’m not opposed to hearing it again if you really think so.”

“Gorgeous.” A kiss to her nose. “Beautiful.” A kiss to her left cheek. “Lovely.” A kiss to her right cheek. 

“Ev…” His name left her on a breath, evaporating into the air around them. 

His hands slid up from her waist, the touch soft, gentle, the opposite of how she’d imagined he might pilot the plane they were sitting in, until they were cradling her face. 

“Mine?” He pressed their noses together, left hand sliding down to cup her neck.  

“Yours.” 

That was all he needed to connect their lips, the sparks that had been dancing around them for weeks finally igniting. She tasted like gin and lemon juice; he of cigarettes and whiskey and neither could get enough of the other. The moonlight spilling through the windows of the cockpit offered just enough visibility that they could see each other, but the cover of darkness allowed for them to touch. To feel. As Val pulled away with a gasp for air, Everett chased her lips, pulling her back against him until he could feel every inch of her pressed against his body, her arms wound around his neck as she opened her mouth to him, allowing him that first step, that touch of his tongue against hers, as he continued to kiss the air from her lungs. 

Her hands desperately fumbled with the buttons on his jacket until they had come open and she could shove it from his shoulders. Releasing his hold on her, he quickly leaned forward so he could pull his jacket the rest of the way off, carelessly tossing it onto the now vacant co-pilot’s seat. His nimble fingers returned the favor, slipping the button on Val’s blue jacket open before divesting her of it and allowing it to accompany his own. 

She surged forward, pressing her chest against his, lips moving feverishly against his own, her hands dragging down his arms. She could feel the muscles under the fabric of his shirt, forearms and biceps flexing as his own hands moved over her and found purchase on various parts of her body. 

“Fuck… Could kiss you all night.”

Dragging his mouth from hers with what felt like Herculean effort, he kissed his way across her cheek, down the sharp slope of her jaw to the juncture behind her ear. His mustache trailing behind each nip and gentle suck of her skin, her perfume lingering in their wake as he stirred parts of her that no one ever had before. A soft moan escaped her throat, her head tipped back exposing more of her neck for him to feast on. 

“Ev… Everett…”

“Hmm, what baby, what is it?” His voice was muffled, lips moving back towards her own while his hands slid gently up her ribcage, fingers brushing the underside of her covered breasts. He pulled away to find her eyes, her gaze hazy as she focused on him in the dark, breaths coming in sharp inhales and heavy exhales. 

He let his thumbs move back and forth from where they were, his fingers flexing as he tried to control every urge inside him that said it would be alright if he made love to her right here. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that, not to her, who deserved something more than a romp in the dark of his plane for their first time together. He’d give her whatever she asked for, while doing his best to remain a gentleman. At least, that was what he told himself. Until she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and softly guided his hand up, north of her ribs until his right hand was cupping her breast. Until she urged him on, silently begging him to continue touching her as best as they could in the cramped space. 

“Don’t stop…” She whispered, threading her fingers into his hair and pulling him back to her mouth. 

“Never.” He murmured against her, the hand that held her so reverently giving a gentle squeeze. “Not until you tell me to.” 

Val’s hands slid from Everett’s hair; her nails raking against his scalp until they came down around his neck. Without thinking she was tugging at his tie and opening the buttons at the collar. The rational part of her brain was no longer thinking. Everything around her was Everett. His hands on her body, fingers tugging her shirt free from the waistband of her skirt so that he could touch her skin against skin. Just as his hands slid up her back, fingers brushing the band of her brassier, her lips found his neck, teeth scraping against his pulse. 

“Val…” His head hit the back of the seat as she moved lower, her lips dragging across his exposed collar bones, leaving open mouth kisses up the column of his neck. “Christ, honey…” 

Just as he popped open the first button on her blouse, a voice rang out from the open hatch, causing Val to wince and Everett to curse under his breath. 

“Hello? Anyone up here?”

“Oh shit, is that Lemmons?” Her eyebrows flew straight to her hairline at the thought, and when Everett nodded in confirmation, she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. His hand came down over her mouth to muffle the sound, as he called back down to the ground crew chief. 

“Uhh yea, Ken, it’s just me!” 

“Captain Blakely? That your jeep out there?”

“Yea. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Val’s head dropped to Everett’s shoulder, her breathing uneven as she tried to suppress the giggles that hadn’t quite subsided yet. Getting caught up in the cockpit of a fort hadn’t been on her agenda for the evening, but neither had Everett’s surprise adventure. She knew it was only a matter of time before they kissed, and hell, she had been counting on it for some time now. What she hadn’t counted on was that once they started they wouldn’t be able to stop.  

“Hey, you alright?” Ev’s hand was still pressed against her back, the warmth of his skin burning against her own. 

“Yea, just wasn’t expecting to be interrupted,” She looked up at him, his hair a mess from where her hands had gotten to it. “Wasn’t expecting to almost… either.”

“I should have slowed us down,” He let his head fall back against the seat. “You deserve more than, well, the cockpit of a plane.”

“Well, I did tell you not to stop.” She grinned. 

“And who am I not to oblige my girl when she wants something.”

“Another time,” She leaned forward to press her lips to his softly. “Until then, feel free to sneak me up here and kiss me as often as you’d like.”

“I’ll have to remember that. And not to bring a jeep next time so we don’t get busted.”

“Speaking of… we’ve got poor Kenny cooling his heels down there waiting for us.”

“Better button up.” He gestured to her blouse with a nod of his head and a wink. 

“Same goes for you, Captain, because I made a real mess of you.” She grinned. 

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled, pulling his hands away from her to do up the buttons on his shirt. 

Val moved from his lap, doing her best to tuck her shirt back in, and put her jacket back on. She was sure her lipstick was smudged all over her face, and her hair had to look like a bird's nest by this point, but there was nothing she could do about that. She tried to tuck back whatever loose strands had fallen free, rolling her eyes as Everett smirked at her. He had decided against redoing his tie, instead stuffing it into his pocket. As he stood, eyes focused on her and not the area around him, his head came in contact with the ceiling above him, a dull echo resounding through the cockpit. 

“Fuck!” 

“Shit! Are you alright!” 

He turned to her, and couldn’t help the smile on his own face as he watched her try and not laugh at him. Her hand was covering her mouth, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief. 

“I’m fine sweetheart,” He held out his hand to guide her down. “Now let’s go before Lemmons sends a search party.” 

“Don’t let me fall…” she gripped his fingers tightly as he stepped down first, before he turned to guide her out of the cockpit, and back down towards the hatch. 

“Let me go first, and I’ll help you once I’m down.”

“Okay…”

He made quick work of jumping from the plane, and once both feet were on solid ground, he turned back towards the hatch for her. 

“Jump, honey. I’ve gotcha.”

“Easy for you to say.” She mumbled, before sitting herself on the floor of the plane, legs dangling below her in the night. With a deep breath, she pushed herself out of the plane, and true to his word, Everett had caught her around the waist. 

“Told ya.” He winked, setting her back on the ground. 

Brushing herself off, Val turned to find Ken Lemmon’s looking at her, eyes wide, lips quirked into a smirk. 

“Evening, Miss Val.” He offered her a wave. 

“Hi Ken. Did we wake you?”

“No. Got up to use the can, and uh, saw the jeep. Thought maybe Major Egan was up on the wing again.”

“Sorry… we didn’t mean to make trouble.”

“Hey, it’s the Captains fort, no trouble for me at all.”

“We’ll get out of your hair, let you get back to bed.” She grinned, hand searching for Everett’s as he stood next to her. 

“Goodnight you two,” Ken gave a wave as he turned and made his way back to the ground crew's hut. “Don't forget your glasses!”

Everett winced and doubled back to where he had left their empty glasses from earlier, while Val turned and made her way to the jeep. Once he joined her, he passed them over to her while he dug the key from his pocket and started the engine. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on her knee, he drove them off back towards the huts. They passed a few stragglers leaving the Officers Club; Benny Demarco and Crank were sitting outside with Meatball, the dog taking off in a run after the jeep as it passed causing Benny to groan and both Val and Ev to laugh. He eventually got tired and began trotting his way back to where Benny was waiting. 

When Everett pulled the jeep up in front of the Red Cross hut, he noticed that the lights were still on inside, which meant Tattie and Helen were either still lingering at the club or waiting up for Val. 

“Looks like they might be waiting for you.”

“Gossip queens…” she shook her head with a fond smile. 

Letting the two glasses rest on the seat between them, she turned to face him, hand reaching for his own. Just the feeling of his skin on hers had her wanting to make him turn the jeep around and go back to the hardstand and finish what they started. 

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

“You’re asking permission to kiss me? Everett, you’re practically wearing my lipstick, sweetheart.” She smiled, but leaned closer to him anyway, indulging him the moment. 

“Please?” He whispered. “Valencia, come on, I’m trying to be a gentleman. Walk you to your door, kiss you goodnight…”

“Okay, okay!” She conceded. “Yes, Everett, you can kiss me goodnight.”

He met her in the middle, hand sliding up to cradle her face as their lips found each other. Her fingers slid through his already disheveled hair, nails scratching against his scalp. She could feel him shudder under her touch, and had to keep reminding herself that it would be worth it to wait just a little longer for him in that way. 

Pulling back only when the need for air grew too strong, Everett let his thumb softly move against the apple of her cheek, his forehead pressed to hers. 

“Go on, before Tattie comes out here looking for you.”

“Don’t wanna…”

“Me either, but there’s tomorrow, and I’ll be waiting for you. Promise.”

“Tomorrow…” She sighed, nuzzling into his warm palm. 

“I’ll pick you up in the morning and we can walk to the mess together. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

With another soft kiss to her lips, Everett released his hold on her, allowing her to step out of the jeep and take the few steps to the door of the hut she resided in. He knew he wouldn’t get any sleep that night, thoughts of bright green eyes and a mischievous smile dancing in his mind's eye until the sun came up and he could see her again. He waited until she was safely inside the hut, the sound of Helen’s voice floating through the air as Val rejoined the girls finally. With a chuckle and shake of his head, he drove the jeep back to the Officers Hut where he found John Egan outside, smoking a cigarette with Douglass. 

“So, how’d it go?” Dougie stood up, flicking the butt of his cigarette in the makeshift ashtray. 

“Thanks for letting me borrow the jeep, Bucky.”

“Anytime you need me to break into song so you can make an escape with your gal, I’ve got it handled.”

“I think everyone else would be very opposed, but I appreciate the offer.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“You are, but that’s alright. You mean well.” 

“Night Blakely…”

“Night, Major…”

Everett had one foot in the door before Douglass was pulling him into the light, his blue eyes looking at him with scrutiny. 

“What?”

“Man, she really did a number on you! Was she wearing any lipstick when you brought her back?”

“Doug…”

“Victory Red is definitely your shade, Ev!” He cackled, heading for his bunk while Everett moved to the mirror that hung by the wall, checking his reflection with a smile. She had indeed left her mark, and if he had any say in the matter, he wanted her to do that for as long as Victory Red was in production. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart…” 

Part Three

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

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