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winniemaywebber · 2 months

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Honeysuckle Rose • Part 8

james douglass x olive lewis

part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven

masterlist ao3 olive's playlist

notes: a little heavy petting 🤭

Something big is brewing on base, the Brass keeping their cards close to their chest. The Red Cross Girls navigate their way through revelations, chance meetings and feelings from the past that rear their ugly head.

Despite the very few hours of sleep she had gotten, the sun rising over the beautiful Suffolk fields as the gang had all congregated in the cool morning air in celebration of no longer being a fractured bunch, Olive felt refreshed.

The group had left the club in the early hours to see the sun rise, telling each other that the lack of sleep would be worth it. The gang, joined by Curt’s co-pilot Dickie, sat on the surprisingly soft grass of the airfield in a gentle silence. The sweet countryside air whipped all around them, Olive finding warmth tucked inside of Dougie’s jacket, his arm around her as she snuggled into him. She laid her head on his shoulder, him smiling as she stroked his face. The fiery hues of the morning sky brought out the beautiful blue of his eyes, Olive practically falling into them as the two of them seemed to slip into their own little world. It was at this moment she realized; she was falling in love with him. It had hit her like a freight train, the thought causing her to gasp out loud.

“Okay, doll?” James asks, holding her even closer to ward off the cold.

“Never better, honey.”

—

The early start came with the beginnings of a headache from lack of sleep. However, Olive found herself extremely peppy for this time of the morning. She, along with Tattie, had gone about most of their morning duties occasionally exchanging quiet conversation and Tattie preparing herself for her impending hangover. “It doesn't knock you on your ass if you don't go to sleep,” she laughs, wincing at the sound of her own voice.

“You didn't sleep? Jesus Christ, Spaatz. You mad bugger.”

“There was no point,” she replies, beginning to daintily arrange donuts on a tray. “By the time I'd have got myself into bed, it would have been time to get up again. There,” she says, placing the tray on the counter. She lights two cigarettes, handing one to Olive before pouring them a cup of coffee each. “This'll perk us up, kid.”

A bark echoes through what feels like the whole air base, Olive and Tattie both jumping at the sound of it. “Hold on to your hats,” Tattie smiles. “Here comes trouble.”

“Oh, yeah! He's brought Meatball with him too!”

Benny strolls up to the Clubmobile alongside Meatball, stifling a yawn as he approaches.

“Demarco!” she cheerfully greets, pouring him a coffee before he even has a chance to ask. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Meatball was crying for the bathroom, then I saw Lemmons while we were out there. Said he needed me to look over something on Our Baby.”

“Ah,” she nods. “Leave the good boy here with me. It seems pretty easy out here today, so it's no bother.”

“Thanks, Ol. Hey, everything worked out now?”

“Oh, yes,” she blushes. “Everything smoothed over. What about you?” she enquires, eyebrow raised. “You set him straight?”

“Too right. I made it clear that it's only him you care for in that way. I told him that if he thinks he saw what he thought he saw, he should've asked me; I also told him that if he ever made you cry again, he'd pay for it. He got a little sheepish at that.”

“Christ,” she whispers, shaking her head in amusement.

“Hey, no hard feelings. We shook hands, back to being pals. No harm done.”

“Well, if you say so. Here,” she says, placing another two cups of coffee and a few donuts in front of him. “One for you, the coffees and other donuts are for Kenny and Wink.”

“Thanks. Run over and grab me if the dog is too much trouble.”

He turns on his heel and departs, Meatball barking incessantly as his person walks away from him without so much as a pat goodbye.

“Benny!” Olive shouts. “You forgot something!”

—

“Good morning boy, hi!” Olive hears, seeing Meatball perk up instantly with his ball in his mouth, expecting playtime at the sight of more people walking up to the Clubmobile. Val bends down to pet him, scritching at the dog's ears as he drops the ball at her feet and pants happily in her face. “Did you have a nice snooze?”

“He snoozed more than any of us, that’s for sure.” Helen says, rolling her eyes and smiling.

“When I checked last night, you were snoozing on top of Dickie,” Olive smiles, cheekily pointing at her friend with a triumphant grin.

“He was closest,” Helen grumbles. “And Tattie took the dog.”

“Surprised Benny didn’t put up more of a fight for him honestly,” Tattie says, stubbing out her cigarette and turning to begin spot cleaning the counters.

Mentioning Benny's name seemed to be a careless mistake. At the mention of his name, Meatball leans forward and begins howling, Cleven’s assumption once again being proved right.

“That wolf is part dog,” he had grumbled to Olive, a few days after their first meeting. Seeing her love on him, he crouched down beside her and told her all about how he'd come to be the group's mascot.

“Benny won him,” he laughed, holding a hand out for the dog to sniff at. “Craps.”

“Probably the luckiest win of his life,” Olive had replied, nuzzling into Meatball for warmth. “Wait, how did you get him here all the way from Greenland?”

“He flew with us. Howled the whole darn way, Lewis. It was unbearable, let me tell ya.”

“I'll bet,” she had said, raising her eyebrows.

“Benny joked that his dog was part wolf,” he pauses, standing up and wiping his hands on his slacks. “I said that wolf is part dog.”

“Okay, Meatball, shhh.” Olive crouches down to ruffle the fur between his ears in comfort, when suddenly, the dog mistakes her loving on him for playtime and jumps up onto her, pushing her to the floor.

“Oh, Meatball!” Val laughs, unable to pull him off Olive and help her friend as he continues to lick her face. Through the chaos, laughter and struggle, a familiar voice booms across to them, with Everett Blakely following closely behind.

“Wow, and here I thought I was the only fella who got to smother you in kisses!” Dougie’s voice calls out as he walks up the path to the Clubmobile, a smirk about his lips. He seems to have woken up incredibly happy, a jaunty little pep in his step as he walks up to greet everyone.

“Fella, yes,” Olive looks up at him from her place on the ground, his blue eyes softly boring into her. “But he’s not a fella, he’s a Meatball.”

“Well, then he’s the only Meatball who gets to smother you in kisses.” Dougie approaches the dog, gently tugging at his collar to get him off Olive and helps her stand, his hand stroking hers as he does so.

“Did anyone get any sleep last night?” Dougie questions everyone, looking at their exhausted faces as he helps Olive dust off, tickling her playfully as he does so.

“James!” she shrieks, playfully swatting at him.

“Barely,” Val sighs, answering his question through Olive’s giggles. She moves slightly, joining Ev and snuggling into him. “I can’t remember the last time I stayed out all night like that.”

“Had to be sometime before the war…” Ev sighs, placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Somehow it always involves Curt.” Val groans, her back turned to the path the aforementioned man is now sauntering down.

“Hey, yous guys!”

“Talk of the devil…” Val begins.

“And he shall appear,” Olive and Helen finish, climbing into the truck and pouring coffee for those who have now congregated around the area. They hand out the cups, now knowing each coffee order by memory. If anything proved how close these girls had gotten to these men, it was this very thing. Sometimes, all these men needed was a silent nod and a wry smile as a perfectly warm beverage and donut was set in front of them without a word. All the girls could do was hope they were able to make the same coffee the next day, hoping more than anything to keep seeing these familiar faces, just as the men wanted to see theirs.

“Ol, Harding wants to see me. Not sure what it's regarding but I'd better get there al momento. Curt says he'll be on Meatball duty but–”

“Yeah, he'll sod it off after five minutes,” she titters. “Need one of us to go with?”

“Ev is giving me a hand, thanks, doll.”

“I'm sure he is, you cheeky pair.”

“Leave it, English,” she scolds with a wink, surprising her with a kiss on the cheek. “Be back soon, ‘kay?”

“Tell me what it's about when you're back! I may be sleepy but I am still nosy!”

—

“Mail's here!” Tattie yells, wafting a letter in front of Olive's face. She takes it from Tattie’s fingers with a smile, and takes in the unfamiliar penmanship written upon the envelope. It feels thick, the paper creaking slightly as she squeezes it to survey its contents without needing to open it. Not able to keep herself waiting any longer, she rips it open with her thumb and removes six thick pages, tied with ribbon, along with a single sheet of paper that's been beautifully folded into three. Setting the wad of paper to the side for just a second, she quickly scans the letter: your friend, Juliet.

“Aw!” Olive says, stuffing the papers back in the envelope they arrived in. “Brady's girl wrote me back. That's so sweet.”

“What you got there?” Dougie asks, stuffing a second - or was it a third? - donut into his mouth, looking at the huge stack of papers in Olive’s hand. She opens it, a huge smile spreading across her face, causing her cheeks to glow a little. Dougie feels his breath catch in his throat as he sees her eyes light up, quickly taking in the first three pages. It's the dimple in her cheek as she grins, the way her eyes sparkle and crinkle as her cheeks lift, the subtle glow of them, too. He clears his throat after realizing he's been holding his breath, a hand out towards Olive.

“I've got a few minutes. You wanna go somewhere quiet and read that?”

“I'd love to! Helen?” She calls, turning her head to find her friend. “You good here? I wanna go read this,” she says, gesturing to the thick pages in her hands.

“Gosh, yes!” she cries, beginning to pour herself a coffee. “Take your time. I'll have Meatball bark if I need you!”

—

Sitting on her bunk with a sigh, she pats the space next to her. “Are you staying?” she asks Dougie, who is standing awkwardly by the door.

“Am I allowed in here?”

“It's just me, so, yes, I'd say so. Don't be trying to come in when we're all in here though; it gets a little cramped.” She pats the blanket again, hoping he takes the hint. “Come sit, darling.”

He finally begins walking towards the bunk, swiping up Val's copy of Screen Romances as he reaches Olive. “You think she'll mind?” he asks, holding it out toward her. Smirking, she shakes her head, beginning to open the letter again. Dougie sits down next to her as gently as he can, his arm wrapping around her shoulder. Her head falls on to him right away, as if his shoulder was always its safe place.

“How long do you have?” she murmurs, looking up at him from where she's laying.

“I've got a little while,” he smiles, opening the magazine right at the gossip column. “How ever long you need, Ollie.”

She whizzes through the essay, her head on Dougie’s shoulder the whole time as he flips through the magazine, letting out little gasps and even an “ooooh!” when he reads about Clark Gable's latest exploits. Olive folds the papers back together and ties them with the ribbon they came with, smoothing out the silk as she ties it as neatly as she can, trying her best to replicate Jules’ expert handiwork. She looks over at Dougie, shifting slightly under his arm so she can sit up. He doesn't realize she has moved at first, his eyes still on the page and his brow furrowed in concentration. She smiles softly at him, trying her best to take in every detail of his sweet face.

“You're so into the gossip in that magazine, huh?” she asks, breaking the silence. He jumps, face now turning toward her. “Gossip queen.”

“What can I say? I like to be in the know,” he laughs.

“That's just called being nosy, my love.”

“Yeah,” he blushes, taking her hand. “But you know you love it.”

“I do,” she sighs, her face coming towards his to kiss him as her eyes flicker down to his plush lips. She kisses him gently, her heart growing lighter as he smiles down at her. She doesn't pull away right after, and he isn't about to let her. His hand gently tilts her chin up to him and their lips meet again, the both of them softly falling into each other with a sigh. He delicately strokes down her chin to gently grip the side of her neck, an action that causes her to gasp and push her tongue into his mouth. A breathy moan leaves his lips as she kneels - never breaking the kiss - and places a leg on either side of his lap. Her hands wander up to his cheeks, letting them take in his features without needing to open her eyes as his hands fall to her waist, gently squeezing and stroking each curve he can reach over her clothes. Sighs and moans pass between their lips, both of them fighting the urge to not get totally lost in it, a whine of displeasure leaving her as he pulls back to catch his breath.

“Ollie,” he whispers, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You're so pretty.”

That does it for her. She quickly closes the distance between them, tugging on his shirt to bring him impossibly closer, intent on getting the very thing her body craves from him the most. The warmth of his body touching hers, the way he touches her: being so gentle with her that it was like she was something precious and made of fragile porcelain. Her mind recounts previous kisses with previous people and she is sure it’s never felt this good with anyone else, nor has anyone else treated her so lovingly. She sighs back into him, pushing her hips into his.

She's not sure how long they stay like that, herself pulling away to catch her breath. The rule, it seemed, was that she was allowed to do that and he wasn't. Either way, she hated losing the time but loved the split second of taking in his half lidded eyes, as if he were in some kind of dazed state. His expression made a warmth erupt within her, her lungs filling with a contented sigh. She couldn't get enough of knowing she had got him into this state and only she was ever going to make him look like this.

She adjusts herself on his lap, feeling him rock hard underneath her as she sits back down on him. As she moves, a hearty moan leaves him and his breath hitches and she begins to slowly rock on top of him.

“Aaah,” he sighs, his hands now in her hair as he pulls her face away from his. He sees a worried expression flash across her face, her kiss swollen lips beginning to pout as he holds her hips still.

“Why did you stop me?” she asks, intertwining her fingers with his. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no! God, no,” he urges. “I really really want to do this. But I don't want it to be some quick thing where we don't take our time. You deserve better than that.”

“I don't care,” she whimpers, planting urgent kisses all over his face and neck as he laughs.

“I do,” he sighs, kissing her back once she breaks away. “I can't give you the time you deserve right now. I wanna do this right, take our time. Show you how you should be treated. Okay?”

“Fine,” she pouts, her eyelids blinking up at him.

“Hey, don't be like that, angel. Soon, I promise. Pinky promise,” he says, joining their pinky fingers together and kissing her hand.

A tap, tap, tap on the window pulls them out of the moment. They both turn towards the window and see Ev standing out there, urging Dougie to go to him, Dougie patting Olive's behind to get her off his lap. “Give me a second, honey,” he says quietly, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead as he gets up off the bed.

Olive watches them through the window, Dougie's eyes widening slightly with whatever information Ev seems to be relaying to him. She sees his shoulders droop slightly before Ev pats one of them, beginning to walk towards the hut, and gesturing by pointing at the door for Olive to let him in. She gets up off her bunk, placing the letter on the small desk next to it and walks towards the door, opening it quickly.

“You can open it yourself, Ev,” she laughs, smoothing her hair down quickly.

“How was your, uh, reading?”

“Educational, thanks,” she replies, blushing and giggling.

“Can't believe that guy got to sneak in here before me,” he complains, shaking his head and pulling a small sheet of paper from Val’s stationary.

“Maybe you're not picking the right moments, Blakely. What are you doing?”

“Leaving a note for Val, English.”

“You're so sly,” she pokes, reading it as he places the small sheet of paper on her pillow. She catches sight of the last line and gasps, almost squeals, in fact. Love you.

“Don't let that slip before I can, Ol.”

“Don't know what you mean, Everett,” she winks, nudging him with her elbow into his ribcage. “I promise I won't tell her before you do.”

“Good. Then I promise to not tell you before Dougie does.”

She processes what he has just said. What did that mean?

“Ha ha, yeah, good one.” She stumbles over each word, her mouth drying as her hands clam up. A false laugh tumbles from her lips as she rushes towards the exit, finding Dougie still outside and waiting for her and Everett.

“Everything okay?” he asks, her hand finding his instantly. She feels him relax into her touch, his face softening as she silently comforts him. She pulls him towards her and holds him close, breathing him in as she savors the words that have just been said. “I promise to not tell you before Dougie does.”

“I've gotta go,” he sighs. “We're taking the new boys on a practice run.”

“New boys?” she questions, realizing that was why Val was beckoned by Red and Chick earlier.

“Yeah, replacements came in today. Ev says they seem a little nervous, but–”

“Hey, you've both got it,” she says, pulling him close. “You'll lead them through,” she soothes, beginning to stroke the back of his neck. “I know it.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I'll be back later, okay?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, kissing his cheek. “Be safe, all of you. Especially you.”

—

Olive spots Tattie leaning against the vehicle, smoking a cigarette and deep in conversation with Jack Kidd, Tattie breaking into peals of laughter at something he has said. Olive subtly looks between the pair of them, him smiling down at Tattie as laughter rises from her throat. She sees his whole face light up with joy as he watches her laugh, the first time she has seen him without a scowl upon his face. The air somehow feels different between them, and Olive finds it best to not disturb that.

She feels a wet nose poking into her leg and turns around to see Meatball sniffing at her incessantly. “Hey, buddy,” she says, leaning down to pet him and making kissy faces at him.

“Hey, kid,” greets Tattie, making Olive jump slightly. “Val and Helen are tidying up after greeting the new guys, so we're on Meatball duty.”

“I guessed. Ev had to come grab Dougie from me so they could go on their practice run,” she shrugs. “Curt just go too?”

“Jesus, no,” she laughs. “He gave up on doggy daycare after five minutes.”

“Why am I not surprised?” she replies, smiling. “What do you need me to do?”

“There's a load of donuts we need to get rid of before they go stale. Know anyone on the ground that would be interested?”

“Seems I know just the guys, Tat. You parcel them up and I'll take Meatball over to the hardstands to see Kenny and Wink. This dog needs a run around anyway.”

—

The sun tucks itself behind the clouds, the skies graying as the afternoon passes slowly. It seems that British summer time never changes, Olive thinks to herself as loads up a tray with coffee and donuts for the ground crew. Placed in the middle was a paper bag stuffed full of donuts, the bag being found by Tattie as she rifled through the last of the day’s newspapers.

“Ah,” she declared, somehow expertly turning it inside out without ripping it, so as not to get newspaper ink on the baked goods.”Just perfect,” she had said, a half smoked Lucky Strike hanging from her red lips. Without warning, the smoke had risen up from the cigarette and crept its way into her eye, her hand instantly clamping over it as a single tear ran from the lid. “Darn it!” She had shrieked, whipping a cloth from Helen’s shoulder as she secretly tittered, her own hand over her mouth. Olive tries her best to hold it in, the full coffee cups shaking on the tray she was holding.

“Get gone, English, before I clip you around the ear hole for laughing at me!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Olive giggled, slipping Helen a subtle wink as she departed.

Left with no other choice, Olive lets Meatball walk off leash. “Don’t make me regret this, buddy,” she urges, watching him walk not in a straight line but in some strange zig zag motion, as if to antagonize her into dropping the six cups of hot liquid straight on to the pavement.

“Woah!” she scolds, nearly tripping over the furry fool’s body as he stops suddenly to sniff the air, panting at the sound of his friends’ voices from afar. He almost looks like he’s smiling at her, seeming to enjoy her almost panicking at each drip of coffee falling from its full cup. “Meatball, we’re about to not be friends if you have me tripping face first into the ground.”

He suddenly obliges, though not to appease Olive; a baseball lands right at his feet and he’s off like a shot towards the hardstands the second he retrieves it in his mouth.

A few moments later, Olive finds him being fussed over by Lemmons. She places the tray down on someone’s tool chest, rubbing her sore arms.

“Heavy?” Wink asked, nudging her with his elbow.

“Not really,” she replies. “Not much weight to it but it was the keeping it upright that was the challenge. Especially with trying to keep Meatball close by and not have me tripping over my own feet. Here,” she says, handing him his cup. “I know it’s a little late in the day, but–”

“No, it’s much appreciated, Lewis,” he replies, taking a deep sip. “We’re out here for a while longer anyway, and this’ll keep the energy up for sure. We’ve got a long night ahead of us, I think, judging by Harding’s urgency.”

“You know what it’s about yet?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he laughs. “You seem to be in the know. Friends in high places and all that.”

“No special privileges here, Wink,” she jokes back, opening the bag of donuts and offering it to him. “I know as much as you, kiddo.”

“Olive!” Lemmons greets, grabbing a coffee from the tray. “Y’know, I expected more cold beer than hot coffee for keeping your little secret, but seeing as you brought donuts, I’ll let it slide.”

“You’d better,” she smiles, handing him the bag. She realizes that Wink is still standing in the same spot, absolutely in earshot. He is either too invested in his donut to look shocked, or there’s the alternative. Olive’s eyes narrow and bore into the young man in front of her, happily sipping coffee and petting the dog.

“Kenny…” she says through gritted teeth. “Did you tell anyone else?”

“Oh, heck,” he murmurs, his face dropping and growing ashen by the second. “Y’see, I just– well, he wanted to know why I was just so het up and I–”

“So you told Wink, without checking with me first, and he–” she stops, turning to the man beside her. “You’re fine with it?”

“Yeah, Olive. I was telling Kenny you seem a little different and I was just putting it down to you being English.”

“But I let it slip. I–I’m sorry, Ol.”

Her teeth bare again, her brow furrowing so hard that she is sure it could one up Valencia’s famous glare. “Kenny,” she growls, her eyes beginning to fill with angry tears. She drops the act the second she sees him wince at what’s coming next. She laughs, wiping her tears and sees his eyes grow wide. “I’m only fucking around, pal. It’s fine, you’re grand.”

“Jesus, Ol,” he breathes out, relieved. “Ya scared me, girl!”

“I told you, I’m an actor. I’ve got to pull it out every now and then to mess with my friends, it’s only fair.”

“Well, it worked! Hell fire!” He wipes his brow, finally taking a bite of the donut he had picked from the bag a few moments ago.

“Will you keep the dog for a little while? Me and the girls want to be ready for when the boys come back and we don’t want our nicer uniforms covered in dog hair.”

“What, not just this once? Take a little Meatball to dinner with ya?” Kenny coos, bending down to be close to Meatball’s face and pouting. Laughing, he stands up and brushes at his knees. “Sure thing, buddy. I’ll bring him back later.”

“Thanks, Ken. See you later!”

“Hey, thanks for dinner and a show!”

“You’re welcome!”

—

Back at the hut, Olive slumps on her bunk with a tired sigh. All this staying out into the early hours of the morning was beginning to take a real toll on her, no matter how fun it was. She feels herself getting drowsy, a sleepy warmth washing over her as she lay her head on her pillow for just a moment, to get the room to stop spinning. She calculates how long it's been since she went back to Pearl, and sits up in shock. Her whole body suddenly tense, she makes a mental note to go back as soon as possible. Not knowing how time will behave and treat her, she feels a panic rise up in her chest, the breathlessness of it making a rush of heat run up her body and burn her throat.

“Ol?” a voice, Helen’s, but sounds like it's underwater. “Olive, look at me,” she urges, her hand now on Olive's forehead. “Breathe, girlie.”

She nods weakly, and begins to look around the room as the walls begin to close in on her. She tries to find something to focus on, her eyes falling to the bed opposite hers - Valencia’s bunk - with the note still sat prettily atop the pillow. Disappointed that Val hadn’t seen it yet, she hopes that she arrives back soon to retrieve it. It’s this simple thought, the thought of her friend smiling as she reads it, that brings her back to herself.

“There,” Helen comforts, wiping Olive’s face with a damp washcloth. “I’ve got you. What pulled you out of it?”

“Thinking of Val’s face when she sees what he’s written.”

“Oh, I know!” She squeals. “I can hardly wait. Did she tell you who I met today?”

“No!” she cries. “I haven’t seen her since this morning. Oh my gosh, spill!”

She begins, her words coming out of her dainty mouth at a mile a minute as she regales the tale of meeting ‘the most handsome pilot I’ve ever laid my eyes on.’

“The most handsome?” Olive teases, hanging on every word.

“Yes!” she giggles, once again describing him. As she continues to chatter and giggle, Olive joining and doing just the same, the door swings open. Their conversation stops, their eyes sparkling and smiling widely at their friend.

“You’ve got mail…” Olive sing songs playfully, pointing over at the pillow.

“What don’t I know?” Val smiles, her pretty green eyes narrowing at the two giggling girls on the bed opposite.

“Nope,” Olive says, truly sticking to her promise of not revealing anything. She mimes zipping her lips, the action sending her and Helen into a peal of girlish giggles all over again.

“Olive!” she stomps, shaking her head at the mischievous pair who are falling over themselves with laughter.

Olive sees Val’s eyes read the note one, two, three times, each time with a little extra speed than before. She stands up from the bed and stands in front of Val, that all knowing, cheeky glint still sparkling in her eye.

“He…oh my God…” She stutters out, her hand flying out to find Olive’s to steady herself.

“He what, honey?” Helen asks, despite knowing exactly what she is referring to.

“That’s the first time...in a note!” She cries, trying to find a way to steady her heart’s rhythm at the revelation.

“The first time for what?” Helen teases again, still perched upon the bed with the same all-knowing look Olive has on her own face.

“Val, honey, are you okay?” Tattie asks, quietly entering the room.

“DID YOU KNOW?!” Val yelps, her attention turning to Olive, who is taken aback by the way Val’s voice is a few pitches higher than they’re all used to.

“Did I know what?” she asks innocently, almost winking at her.

“THIS!” she shrieks, waving the paper in front of her eyes.

“What’s it say?” the Brit asks, trying to peer around the paper to read the words she’s already read numerous times today.

“English, please!” She releases Olive’s hand and sits on her bed, her lungs tightening in her chest.

“Okay, okay,” she relents, taking a seat beside her on the bunk. “I promised,” she says, crossing her heart, “that I wouldn’t let it slip before you found out or he told you.”

“How did you…”

“Dougie and I were in here earlier,” she smiles at the memory, remembering the way he touched her hours before sending her organs dancing into a frenzy. “I was reading my mail when Ev came looking for him.”

“Yeah, okay, you two were ‘reading,’” she kids, rolling her eyes at her friend.

“Don’t change the subject, Valencia!”

“Olive!” Helen calls, her face now suddenly a picture of disgust. “Please tell me I’m not sitting where…”

“No, Helen, you’re safe. Nothing happened.”

“As long as I’m not–”

“Would you two please focus?” Val urgently cuts Helen off. “Everett just said he loves me!”

“Well of course he loves you!” Tattie says, rolling her eyes as she walks past the hubbub on her way to the shower block.

“No, I mean, that’s the first time he’s ever said it.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she yells, turning one of the showers on, the squeak of the pipes causing her to need to raise her voice so she’s heard.

“What makes you say that?” Val queries, the note still in her hands.

“Well, for starters,” Helen begins, hoping she is not interjecting on whatever Tattie has to say. “It’s the way you gaze into each other’s eyes when you think no one is looking…” She rolls over, her stomach now on the bed with her feet kicked up behind her.

“Or when we are looking,” Olive teases, nudging her a little. She reaches into her pocket and grabs her cigarettes, lighting two and handing on to Val. “Here, chicken, come on…”

Val takes the cigarette from Olive’s fingers and takes a long drag before exhaling quickly, Olive seeing that the deep breath she took is beginning to somewhat ground her. She begins to talk again, in her normal tone and slower this time, the words accompanied by a plume of white smoke as she speaks. Her eyes seem to glaze over, like she’s lost in another time far away from this one.

“The last person who told me they loved me,” she begins, blinking suddenly.

“There was someone before Blakely?” Tattie calls, her head popping around the wall of the tiled bathroom as she dries herself.

“I don’t like talking about it,” Val sighs, her eyes almost back to their usual green tone. “We met when I started working at the bank. He was a big shot and I was a secretary.”

“Val, you don’t have to tell us.”

“No, it’s okay,” she sighs, looking between her friends. “I want to. I think I need to, to finally be rid of him.”

“Rid of him?” Helen questions.

“He was a real sweet talker,” Val starts. “Not like Curt or Ev. He was the kind of guy who could charm the skirt off a nun. Not even Curt can do that.” She titters, taking another pull of the cigarette in her hand.

“Oh…” Helen cringes slightly, still intrigued by Val’s story.

“So, he charmed me. Charmed me real good, made me lots of promises.”

“Val, did he…” Olive asks.

“No,” she urges, shaking her head. “I was so enthralled by him, I had wanted to.”

“So, what happened?”

“The secretaries would always leave at five in the dot. So, there would be nights I would go home and he would still be working, and so Curt would meet me and walk me home. And one night, we were walking home, we came up to the picture house, and there he was.”

“Oh no!” Helen cries, her hand slapping to cover her mouth as she figures out where this is going.

“He was with another woman,” she sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t know who she was, but I begged Curt to take me home.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“Yes,” she says quietly. “In the police station, after Curt beat him within an inch of his life. They both got arrested for a public brawl.”

“Valencia!” Olive cries, somewhat shocked but not shocked at all at the mental image of Curtis Biddick defending his best friend with his boxer’s fists.

“I had to identify them both. Curt had claimed self defense, so, when it came time to make my statement, I said that my ex had attacked me, and Curt fought back in my defense.”

“Oh my God!”

“I tried dating other fellas after the dust settled, but Curt was always wildly protective and made it difficult. I get why he did it.”

“He really is your protector, isn’t he?” Olive soothes, her fingers intertwining with Val’s.

“Until I found out he was the one who divulged my cocktail order to Everett…”

“Curt did?!” Helen cries happily, almost cheering at the discovery.

“He did,” Val smiles, the cigarette long ignored as it burns its way down to her fingers. “He surprises me in funny ways like that.”

“Insufferable, that one,” Olive chuckles, shaking her head. “But he really is a good egg.”

“What are you going to tell Blakely?” Tattie asks, joining the others in the room again.

“That I love him too,” she grins, showing her perfect teeth. “Because I do love him.”

“Ohhhhh!” It’s Olive’s turn to squeal, almost jumping up and down in excitement. “I knew it!”

—

Olive and Helen watch as Val takes Ev’s note and delicately places it between the pages of the book that rests on her side table. Everett Blakely’s first ‘I love you’ was now secretly pressed between chapters seven and eight of The Great Gatsby. The girls then found themselves in front of the mirror, prettying themselves up for dinner. Being invited to eat in the Officer’s Mess was slightly anxiety inducing anyway, but even more so when Chick Harding would be sat just a few tables away. They dug out their cleanest uniform, once again glad that Olive had sent Meatball to the airfield for his daily exercise. For such an occasion as this, the uniform needed to remain dog-hair, coffee stained and donut sugar free.

Olive watched as Valencia expertly daubed rouge on her cheeks and her signature Victory Red shade on her lips, pouting occasionally in the mirror so as to ensure she’d got the right shape. She tries her best to mimic her movements without making it obvious, pulling her dark brown hair out from under the silk scarf she had used to keep it contained all day, now pinning it away from her face. She had found the perfect shade after the disastrous testing and application of Val’s Victory Red on her first night in the hut. It’s one she will be happy to have kissed off her mouth later, that’s for certain.

“That color looks good on you,” Val utters from next to her.

“Yeah?” She replies, meeting her glance in the reflection of the mirror and resuming the primping of her hair, hoping to somehow smooth it into submission. “It’s not too dark?”

“Not at all. It’s the perfect red for you.”

“I think only you can pull off that Victory Red,” Olive chuckles, the pair of them remembering how that shade had been much too light against Olive’s pale skin, it washing her out and making her impossibly more pasty. “It was not for me.”

“Oh, gosh, do you remember how fast you wiped it off?”

“Immediate no,” she laughs. A sigh leaves her lips, throwing a stray hair pin that had escaped from her hair onto a nearby table. “Ugh, this side does not want to cooperate!”

“Here, let me…” Val stands and walks towards her friend, standing behind her as she begins gently rolling Olive’s hair between her manicured fingers and pinning it in the desired spot.

“How do you do it?” She grumbles, her hair now perfect within seconds, all thanks to an expert hand.

“From an early age, my mother taught me how to be a ‘proper lady’,” she replies, Olive stifling a giggle at Val’s impression of her mom. “‘Valencia, don’t leave the house without lipstick on. Don’t forget to set your hair.’”

Olive laughs fully now at the broken English accent that comes out of her. She is so good at it that it’s almost like her mother is in the room with them. “Is that what she sounds like?”

“Oh, yes,” Val nods. “And Nonna, not a word of English.”

“Well, you’re a whizz,” she compliments, looking up as the final pin is placed in her hair. “I need to pay attention to how you do your hair.”

“You’re doing just fine, chickie,” she winks, walking over to her side table and putting on her watch before collecting her jacket. Olive does just the same, Helen waiting impatiently by the door. “We were all there once.”

“Thanks,” Olive beams at her friend, shoving her arms into her own jacket. “Now, come on. It’s almost 5:30 and if I know those two…”

“They’re probably already outside,” she finishes, Helen opening the door.

The two men stood outside, smoking together and deep in conversation, no doubt about the replacements that had joined them today. Listening in as they mischievously stare through the screen door at their fellas, they catch that Ev had taken a few of the boys up and tested them on formations and calling out navigation patterns. Dougie had simulated a bomb drop for them, the pilot and the bombardier agreeing that two forts in particular had impressed them - the rest, not so much.

“I wanted to take Ol to the pub tonight, but that’s not happening,” Dougie grumbles as he senses the girls making their way towards them.

“I know,” Ev groans in response. “I owe Val a date but, based on what Jack told me earlier, we’re about to go through the mud for a bit.”

“This whole place is mud. Never stops raining!”

“This one sounds big,” Ev musters, his voice low.

“He say where?”

“No, Harding’s keeping it close to the vest.”

“Dammit,” Dougie shoots out, teeth slightly gritted together in annoyance. “It would be nice to know what we’re up against for once.”

“Yeah,” comes the quiet reply from Everett, the final ember bursting from his cigarette. “Explains why he wants us looking after these new kids.”

“Fucking replacements…”

The conversation carries on, the men so involved in it that they still haven’t noticed the girls right by them. The compliments flow, them talking about a pair from Laredo who seemed to be the only ones worth their salt.

Dougie does a double take as he realizes his girl is right by him. He throws his finished cigarette into the makeshift ashtray in front of the hut and smiles his sweet grin, holding out his hand.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “You look beautiful.”

“Heh, thank you,” she giggles, feeling herself blush at his compliment. “You’re looking mighty fine yourself, my love.”

“Good day?” he teases, kissing her gently on the mouth.

“Hm, it was okay, I guess. Nothing much happened,” she pauses, this time being the one to initiate the kiss. “A lot of reading.”

“Oh yeah, we definitely read a lot. Can we read more tomorrow?”

“Only if you buy me a drink later.”

“Deal,” he winks, pulling her close. “Oh, you smell divine, Ollie.”

“Yes, I’m quite appealing when I’m not covered in dog hair and coffee.”

“I think you’re just as beautiful all the time,” he whispers, his voice in her ear sending a delicious tingle down her spine. She lets him keep gently whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she catches sight of Val and Ev going on ahead, the pair of them walking in step as he wraps his arm around her shoulders and keeps her close.

“We’d better go,” she laughs, nodding her head towards their friends. “We’re gonna be late.”

“If that hut is empty, I’m fine being late.”

“James!” she scolds, but laughs nevertheless. “You are so cheeky!”

“Yeah,” he grins, his eyes beginning to light up. “Only for you, though.”

“Oh, it had better be only for me, Douglass,” she flirts, batting her long lashes at him. “Nobody else is getting a piece of this!”

“Nu-uh, no, ma’am. Never.”

The evening air has a chill upon it, Dougie feeling it the moment they begin walking towards the Officer’s Mess. He throws his arm around Olive’s shoulders and pulls her close, the warmth from his body edging the cold away with each step.

“I’d give you my jacket,” he offers. “But I’d have to put it right back on in a second.”

“I understand, sweet. No bother at all.”

He stops, taking her face between his hands and plants a deep kiss on her mouth, both of them feeling the other smile as their lips meet. She giggles as they break apart, taking her thumb to wipe the lipstick from his lips. “Oh, seems this red is your color, too.”

“I knew it. Does that mean I can keep kissing you forever?”

“Sure,” she swoons, the word ‘forever’ sending her insides melting. “I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he whispers, a tone of nervousness to his voice. “Come on, pretty girl. We’re late.”

—

Upon entering the mess, Dougie’s arm once again wraps around Olive, they hear Val’s voice loudly making a remark to Harry Crosby. Gesturing to the couple who are smiling themselves into oblivion, they hear “that about answer your question, Croz?”

“Sure does,” he laughs in response, smiling at them both as Dougie, ever the sweet gentleman, pulls the chair out next to Val for Olive to sit on before rounding the table to sit opposite her, next to Everett.

“So, fellas,” he pipes up, his eyes crinkling from his smile. “How’s it going then?”

“Could ask you the same thing, Dougie,” Brady grins, nodding towards Olive.

“Oh, I’m great,” he enunciates, winking at his girl opposite him, who rolls her eyes in return.

“Brady,” Olive begins, tapping his hand to get his attention. “I just wanted to say how lovely your Juliet is. I received her reply today, and I’ve got to say, what an amazing person. What a magnificent writer she is. Those kids are lucky to have her as their teacher, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, thanks, Olive,” he smiles, his cheeks turning red at the mention of her. “Make sure you mention that in your next letter. I tell her that all the time, yet she never seems to take it in from me. Maybe she’ll listen to someone else.”

“Maybe so! I’m very much the same, John. It’s a girl thing.”

“She write you an essay?” he jokes, shuffling with the salt and pepper shakers on the table.

“She did, actually,” she nods enthusiastically, promising to show him tomorrow.

“Yeah,” Dougie interjects. “We read it together.”

The men at the table give a roaring cheer at his remark, Olive feeling herself turn a deep shade of beetroot as she begins to laugh. “James!” she says, holding on to Valencia as they both laugh with tears in their eyes. “Keep it quiet.”

“Yeah, Doug,” Ev says, ruffling his hair a little. “Keep it quiet.”

Next to her, she sees Val catch the eye of one of the new replacements that had been mentioned earlier. Due to her having not been introduced to them yet, she is finding it hard to place which one had captured Helen’s heart and mind this morning from description alone. Nevertheless, Olive smiles brightly at them in greeting, the curly haired mustached man waving across to Val.

“Hey, Val,” Benny calls from the other end of the table. “Looks like you’ve caught the eye of some of the replacements.” Olive sees Everett’s head twitch just a little at Benny’s words, turning his head slightly to get a better look. “Starry eyed kids.”

“Rosenthal and his crew?” Val responds, shaking her head with a laugh.

“Uh, no, actually…”

“What?” Ev scowls, and finds the men Benny has been referring to. His eyes narrow towards them, his gait akin to a wild cat ready to attack. Olive feels her chest tense up, hoping and praying this isn’t the start of a whole new argument, so soon after getting over the last one.

“Everett, they’re not doing anything,” she pleads, her voice soft. “They’re just–”

“Drooling at my girlfriend like a pack of dogs.”

Olive quickly looks over each of her shoulders, hoping that brotherly Curt Biddick isn’t in the vicinity. Olive isn’t sure who Curt would go for first in this situation - Ev for acting in such a way, or the new boys acting like uncouth savages whose mothers hadn’t taught them manners.

Dougie places a hand on his friend’s shoulder, bringing him out of the envious trance he’d gotten himself in. “Ev, hey pal. They’re just kids, they’ll learn.”

Olive sees Ev’s eyes unlock from the group with a shake of his head as he hears Dougie’s words, the ready-to-pounce stance dropping almost immediately.

“Yeah…learn not to ogle other people’s girlfriends,” he spits, pointedly talking to those same boys, whose faces had dropped a mile in fear.

“Everett…” Val warned, her eyes meeting Olive’s in some kind of confusion. Before he can respond, Gale Cleven stands with his hands on his hips, ever the authoritative figure. Major Buck Cleven addresses the boys, their faces now pale and their eyes darting to fixate on anything but Everett Blakely.

“Fellas,” he nods. “Those girls will get your utmost respect, understood?”

“Y-yes, Major,” they all stutter out, Buck nodding before moving along to say hello to everyone.

“Boys. Miss Lewis, Miss Val,” he smiles, giving Val a little wink after realizing she has heard his talk with the replacements. “Enjoy dinner, everyone.”

“Thanks, Major.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Val and Ev, who are sitting opposite one another just like Olive and Dougie are, begin quietly talking to one another. Olive finds it best to not listen in, having found that this situation was enough drama for one night. Instead, she catches the eye opposite her, Dougie shaking his head and rolling his eyes with a smile as the pair murmur next to them.

—

Dinner finishes, and the group finds that the tiredness has finally caught up with them all, Olive and Val exchanging tired glaces which are not just from feeling full after all they’d eaten for dinner.

“So, club?” Dougie asks, taking a drag of his just lit cigarette and passing it across to Olive.

“Hmm, no. Not tonight,” she shakes her head, blowing smoke out of her mouth. “Unless Val wants to?”

“Hell no,” she laughs, dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. “I need my bed.” She pauses for a second, evidently piecing a thought together. “Why don’t we just go sit outside our hut for a while?”

“It’s a nice night, I don’t see why not,” Olive agrees, already beginning to stand. Dougie rushes up behind her and helps her with her jacket, holding out his hand for her to hold. “Come on, honey,” she smiles, before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “We can have a cuddle.”

“Perfect.”

The group makes the short walk back, Dougie not letting Olive’s hand go for a second. Every now and then, he puts it to his lips and kisses the back of it, smiling softly at the sight of their fingers linked together. Once the hut is reached, the girls rush inside and place a vinyl on the player, gesturing for one of the guys to grab a chair and prop the door open so the music can be heard from where they will sit.

“Ev, we need a record player in our rack,” Dougie says, handing a cigarette up to Olive who is sitting on his lap, his arm around her waist, holding her close to him.

“Croz has a record player,” Ev responds with a sigh, him and Val squeezing up to share a chair so they can be as close as possible to one another.

“Yeah, but he plays fancy stuff,” he laments, his free hand squeezing Olive’s waist a little more.

“What exactly is fancy stuff, Doug?” Val asks with a laugh.

“You know, opera and stuff.”

“Classical music is nice,” Val reasons to him, her eyes softly narrowing at him. “Nonna plays a lot of classical Italian at home. It’s actually quite nice.”

“Hey, Ol,” Dougie asks, nudging her a little. “What does Pearl play?”

She smiles, happy that this is a question she can answer truthfully.

“A lot of Glenn Miller in her house,” she sighs, another reminder to go back to her and reality looming over her.

“She has good taste,” Ev offers, nodding.

“Heh, yeah. She sure does.”

The four of them excitedly begin exchanging anecdotes about their families, Helen and Tattie joining them while Ev is in the middle of a story, regarding his mother and how she dealt with his rebellious behavior as a child.

“All I heard was, and it scared the life out of me, let me tell ya, was ‘Everett Ernest, if you so much as look at that vase–’”

“Wait, wait!” Olive shakes her head, wanting to make sure she heard him correctly. “Your middle name is Ernest?”

“Yes, and what of it, English?”

“I'm sorry, it's just–” she is cut off by the sound of a cackle erupting from her own throat, clutching her stomach as her eyes squeeze shut. “I didn't expect that. You don't–” she squeals, trying to compose herself. “You don't look like an Ernest, that's all.”

“Go on then, what's yours?”

“Maude,” she giggles, catching the glint in his eye as she says it.

“Maude? Jesus, Ol, that's somehow worse than Ernest!” It's his turn to laugh now, the pair of them throwing their heads back and laughing loudly into the night.

“I think it's cute,” Dougie says, sweetly tapping her nose with his finger.

“Thank you! I think so too.” Her nose wrinkles sweetly as he touches it, him mirroring her expression and pulling her into a quick peck on the lips.

Tattie lights one of the last cigarettes in the pack, passing it between the group.

Helen, the most inexperienced smoker of them all but not wanting to be the odd one out, keeps coughing at each drag she takes. The dainty little noises leave her every few seconds, her chest heaving delicately as if she were a sickly little kitten.

“Helen, doll,” Olive urges. “Put that out. You're hurting yourself!”

“I don't wanna look like the party pooper!”

“I can promise, you're not,” she laughs, gesturing with a wave of her hand to give her the cigarette, the tip covered in her lipstick. As she stubs it out, she sees four men round the corner, all of them wide eyed and seeming to be taking in their new surroundings. Val looks up with a grin and waves, beckoning them over while Helen visibly swoons at the sight of the thin, dark haired pilot.

“Ohhhh,” Olive says, knowingly. “That'll be Nash, then.” Helen simply giggles, tucking an invisible strand of her behind her ear. “There is no hair loose, my girl,” Olive guffaws, shaking her head.

“Ol, come meet the new fellas!” Valencia calls, three of the four in front of her. Nash had made his way over to Helen without a hello, his target clear from the moment he'd seen her leaning against the wall of the hut.

“This is Robert,” Val begins. “Speas here is Nash's co-pilot and…where's he got to?”

“I'll give ya three guesses,” the round faced blond man perks up, eyebrows wiggling.

“That was fast. He's keen.”

“Sure is. Sorry, Miss…?” he says, looking at Olive.

“Lewis. Olive Lewis.”

“No way!” he gestures to himself, patting his chest three times in a fit of excitement. “Pappy Lewis!”

“Oh, what?!” she squeals, clutching on to his arm. “I mean,” she stutters. “It's a pretty common name, Pappy.”

“Never met a Brit with the same one before though. Truth be told, never met a Brit til just now.”

“It's your lucky day. A Brit and a long lost cousin,” she jokes, stubbing out the last of her cigarette.

“Oh! You're right! Hey, Rosie!” he calls over to him, not realizing he's still stood right next to him so he almost deafens the curly haired pilot. “Came all the way to England to find my cousin!”

“Pappy, she's not–”

“Long lost cousin Olive,” he says, pulling her into a hug. Olive pulls away as he loosens his grip on her, platonically grabbing his arm to lead him over to Ev and Dougie. Olive catches sight of Everett talking in hushed tones to Dougie, his hand on his shoulder. Ev is carrying an expression that's rarely seen, his brow softly furrowed and his body squared up as if to cover Dougie’s from where he is sat. The pair seem to be speaking softly, Ev obviously talking Dougie down from a mood that hasn't been apparent thus far. Olive worries, instantly trying to break the ice between them and her new friend. She rifles in her pocket and pulls out the box of cigarettes, somehow hoping that a simple gesture will give some ease to the surrounding atmosphere.

“Smoke?” she offers to Pappy as they reach the two men. “You guys have–”

“We've met,” Dougie says sharply, taking the last pull of his Lucky Strike as he stands.

“Doug…” Everett urges, gesturing for him to sit back down. Olive can clearly see Dougie’s neck tightening, a vein beginning to pop out on his forehead. His face is covered with a thin sheen of sweat, him wiping at his brow quickly as Olive takes in his expression, her eyes full of concern.

“Excuse me, Pappy,” she says, placing herself in front of James. “Honey,” she soothes. “What's up?”

“Nothing,” he replies, his voice meek and quiet. “It's nothing.”

“You wouldn't be acting like this if it was nothing.” She puts a hand on his face, before raking her fingers through his dark hair. “Come on, come with me.”

She links her fingers with his and takes him to a quieter spot, the back of the hut where they can't be seen. Instantly, she crosses her arms and shakes her head, as if to urge him into telling her what's going on. “Well?”

“I need you to know I'm not mad,” he begins, his eyes stuck on a spot on the pavement below. “I just…I get uneasy sometimes.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Someone - an old girlfriend - stepped out on me. Was unfaithful and I don't–”

“My goodness. I could never. I would never.”

He sighs, the back of his head against the wall as he breathes out. “I just need to know you're my girl.”

“Oh, James,” she mollifies, lifting his chin to have him look at her. “I'm your girl.”

“What if you change your mind?” He sounds so unlike himself, his voice, so small and meek, barely above a whisper as it cracks just a little.

“I will never change my mind. D'you hear me?” He nods, his blue eyes suddenly swimming. “Never, ever. However long you want me for, at least.”

“Oh, I'm planning on a really long time.”

“Good,” she smiles, pulling him closer to kiss her. “I'm yours. Okay? And when you feel ready, you can tell me the whole story.”

“Okay.” The deep breath he seems to have been holding escapes him, Olive seeing his chest collapse a little with relief. He smiles at her, gently stroking her face. “Hey, you think we can sneak in and do some more reading?”

“No chance of that, darling,” she says, nodding towards the group still outside. “But I’m sure we can read here for a little bit. Maybe a bedtime story, hm?” She grins at him, and he catches a cheeky glint in her deep brown eyes as she kisses him, open mouthed and firm. He gently pushes her against the wall, her opening her legs slightly to accommodate his lean body pressing on hers. Gentle moans pass between their mouths as they kiss, pushing their tongues together, trying to find a moment to breathe. His hand gently strokes down her neck, her eyes squeezing further shut to bite off a groan that’s trying to escape from her throat. It’s when he softly presses his fingers on the area he is holding that the moan crawls from her mouth and into his, him laughing on her lips in return.

“You’re fresh, James Douglass,” she murmurs, his lips capturing hers again as the hand eases its grip. She finds his bottom lip with her tongue and gently nibbles, her hands finding themselves in his hair, softly gripping his hair and mussing it, the pomade slightly sticky upon her fingertips. She doesn’t care. All she cares about is the man in front of her, his mouth moving and working upon hers as if he never wanted to kiss another woman this way ever again. She shivers at his touch, the hairs all over her body standing on end as he plants soft kisses on her jawline and neck, making Olive quietly moan, her warm breath condensating in the dark, starry evening.

“Can we say goodnight like this all the time?” he mumbles into her skin, his tongue finding her jugular.

“Yes please,” she whines, her hips bucking into him as she goes to grab him once again. “And good morning, good afternoon, good evening…” her voice drifts off as he presses his lips to hers again, silencing her. He teasingly breaks away as she gasps, sighing in frustration. She catches sight of him in the moonlight and cackles for a second, his kiss-swollen lips covered in her lipstick. A familiar voice booms over the whole base, shocking the couple slightly. “The light was on. Everyone get back to your racks,” followed by a very stern “James Douglass. Bed. NOW!”

“I’m beginning to think we need to find better hiding spots,” Olive says, rolling her eyes.

“Come on,” he whispers, pulling her off the wall. “They’ll be wondering where we got to.”

“Oh, I think they’ll know. Come here, love,” she says, pulling a spare handkerchief from her pocket. “You need this.”

“Do I look pretty?” he pouts, leaning forward to get her to clean his face.

“Always, doll,” she reassures, touching his nose with her own. “There,” she nods, not a smear of lipstick to be seen. “They’ll never suspect a thing!”

The two round the corner, still giggling from their little tryst as they catch Val smiling sweetly at them. She gives them a little wave as she makes her way into the hut, leaving the door open for Olive. The lull of the night surrounds them as they quietly bid one another goodnight. A sweet kiss planted on her lips makes her toes curl. He kisses her cheeks, her nose, her forehead and touches her nose with his one final time. No words are spoken; it’s as if nothing else needs to be said, the actions seeming to do the talking. She watches as he turns and walks away into the night, Olive finding herself thanking the stars above for bringing her here.

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @hephaestn @manonsmanicmind @derry-rain @bobparkhurst @archival-hogwash @lestweforget5 @butterfly9012

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blakelysco-pilot · 2 months

Text

Hallelujah, I Love Her So

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part SIx Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

Something big is brewing, and The Brass is keeping their cards close to their chest. The Red Cross girls are forced to navigate through the murky waters of changes on base, revelations, new faces and chance meetings. Val is forced to face feelings from the past that rear their ugly head in the face of something beautiful, but she is determined not to let the past get in the way of her future.

Part Five Follow along with the Eight To the Bar Playlist

Sleep. More often than not, it was restless, and usually cut short due to obligations. This time, it was simply because no one had wanted to go to bed. After a week of restlessness and arguing, finally, they had all found peace. Olive and Doug had made up, and Douglass had finally understood what everyone had been trying to tell him all along- Olive only cared for him. While Val had been nothing short of thrilled that her best friends had finally gotten past their troubles and become a couple, what had made her exponentially happy was knowing that her and Everett had not pushed themselves so far in defending their friends that they ruined their own relationship. Benny had made up with Dougie, the two reaching an understanding that Benny was now to Olive what Curt was to Val- a brother. Curt had spent the entire walk back to the huts from the hardstand bellowing how he had the best night ever, and it had been funny, until BED. ALL OF YOU had come blasting over the tannoy and Red Bowman had sent them all to their respective racks.

Now, as Val woke feeling as refreshed as one can be for getting to bed as the sun came up, she was determined to make the most of a day that didn’t include fighting or disagreements. Olive, it seemed, was already up and out of the hut along with Tattie. Helen was still somewhere in dreamland, even as the clock slowly approached nine. Sitting up in her bed, Val called over to Helen softly, hoping it would be enough to rouse the woman from her sleep.

“Helen, doll, it's almost nine.”

“Hmm, that’s nice…”

“Helen, we have to start getting up and out to the truck.”

“Bring the truck here….” She mumbled, face still pressed into her pillow.

“Christ sake,” Val stood from her bed, bare feet padding over to Helen’s bed. “Helen, come on chickie, time to get up.”

“But we just went to bed…” She groaned, prying one eye open and looking up at Val.

“I know, but we can turn in early tonight, yea?”

“Yea, okay,” She sighed, sitting up and meeting Val’s equally tired gaze full on. “Those two early birds are already at the truck?”

“Yes, now let’s put a little pep in our step before Tattie comes round, okay?”

Nodding, Helen let Val pull her from the warmth of her blankets before the pair of them began getting ready for the day.

Val and Helen had gotten themselves cleaned up and into their jumpsuits in record time. Helen resolved to finish pinning her hair under her scarf on the walk over to the truck while Val blindly applied her lipstick mid stride. By the time they reached Olive and Tattie, the truck was set up and both girls were enjoying a cup of coffee while tossing the ball with Meatball. Demarco must have been up and at it early if he’d relinquished his best pal to the girls before the day really got going.

“Good morning boy, hi!” Val looked over at the husky who was panting, ball in mouth, and staring up at her with big blue eyes. “Did you have a nice snooze?”

“He snoozed more than any of us, that’s for sure.” Helen rolled her eyes with a smile.

“When I checked last night, you were snoozing on top of Dickie.” Olive pointed at her with a cheeky smile.

“He was closest,” Helen grumbled. “And Tattie took the dog.”

“Surprised Benny didn’t put up more of a fight for him honestly.”

At the mention of his owner, Meatball promptly dropped the ball to the ground and let out a loud howl. Maybe Cleven was right and he was part wolf.

“Okay, Meatball, shhh.” Olive crouched down to ruffle the fur between his ears, the dog mistaking her affection for playtime and jumping up onto her.

“Oh, Meatball!” Val laughed, unable to pull him off of Olive as he continued to pounce and lick at her face.

“Wow, and here I thought I was the only fella who got to smother you in kisses!” Dougie’s voice rang out as he walked up the path to the Clubmobile, smirk on his lips and pep in his step.

“Fella, yes,” Olive looked up at him from her place on the ground. “He’s not a fella, he’s a Meatball.”

“Well, then he’s the only Meatball who gets to smother you in kisses.” Doug approached the dog, gently tugging at his collar to get him off of Olive, promptly handing him off to Ev, who had joined him in his quest for coffee.

“Did anyone get any sleep last night?” Dougie questioned the group, looking at the exhausted faces of his friends as he helped Olive off the ground.

“Barely,” Val sighed, moving to snuggle into Everett’s side. “I can’t remember the last time I stayed out all night like that.”

“Had to be sometime before the war…” Ev sighed, placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Somehow it always involves Curt.” Val groaned, her back turned to the path, she didn’t see the man in question approaching.

“Speak of the devil.”

Tattie gestured behind Val, causing Ev to turn them both to see Curt coming towards them, bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“Morning yous guys!” He beamed, voice booming as he took up the spot on Val’s other side.

“Shh, too loud.” Helen scolded him.

“Who’s too loud? Meatball? Yea I heard em all the way across the field!”

“Curt…” Val warned, sending him a glare.

“The gal’s grouchy this morning, Blakely.” He mumbled, cigarette now wedged between his lips as he pulled out his lighted.

“Biddick,” Ev looked over at him. “Shut up.”

“Can I at least have a coffee?” He looked at the four girls, trying to figure out which one was most likely to concede.

“Fine, come on, you perky son of a bitch.” Tattie gestured to the truck, leaving Curt out by the hatch as she rounded the back to go inside.

“Thanks, Tat,” He grinned. “Oh, Val, Harding’s looking for ya, he’s in the glass house.”

“You should have led with that, Curt…”

“Yea, sorry about that, I got distracted.”

“Christ sake, okay,” She pried herself out from Everett’s arm and headed for the truck, the pilot still clutching Meatball’s harness in the other hand. “Might as well bring some coffee up for the boys.”

“I’ll walk you,” Ev called over to her. “I needed to talk to Kidd anyway.”

“Thank you honey,” She poked her head out of the truck, now inside putting together a tray of coffee and some donuts for the boys in Operations. “You can help me carry this.”

“Here Curt, you’re on Meatball duty till Benny gets back.” Everett handed off the leash to Curt, moving to the window of the truck to take what Val was passing down to him.

With his hands full, he stood waiting for Valencia to exit the truck. Her own hands full, the pair began their walk towards Operations. They bid their friends goodbye over their shoulders, and began a leisurely walk over towards the control tower. Val was balancing a tray of coffee while Everett dutifully carried a tray with donuts. While some men might have balked at doing something so domestic, he welcomed the moment with Val by his side.

“What’s going on with Jack,” She glanced over at him before looking back towards the path they were walking. “Anything I should be worried about?”

“Honestly, can’t say for certain,” He dropped a sigh before continuing. “Could be anything from a switch in my crew to wanting to go up and practice.”

“Why could he possibly want to switch out of your crew?”

“There’s replacements coming in...”

“When?”

“Not sure, which might be what Harding wants to see you about.”

“The hell am I supposed to do with replacements?”

“Welcome them with open arms the way you welcomed me, sweetheart.” He grinned, offering her a wink as they came to a stop outside the Control Tower.

“They’re hardly getting a wink and a smile,” She sighed, shaking her head as he pulled open the door for her. “And my dance card is full, Captain Blakely.”

“Ooh, haven’t heard that one in a while.” He let out a low laugh, careful not to make too much noise now that they were inside.

The center of the Control Tower, ground level, wasn’t brightly lit. It was bathed in an almost orange glow, and was made up of small offices inside around the perimeter. The center of the room, The Pit, as Red sometimes referred to it, held one big table in the middle adorned with maps, and had floor to ceiling chalkboards on either side of it. Each chalkboard ran the list of every plane within the 100th. All of the forts, their tail numbers and corresponding names and the lead pilot. You could see where someone’s fort had been erased- the names of those who went down or were MIA, simply erased from Thorpe Abbotts. Val realized if she allowed herself to look at it for too long, the worry of Everett’s name, or Curt’s being erased from the board would begin to sink in. Instead, she chose to focus on Chick Harding, who was standing next to Jack Kidd, hands on his narrow hips and cigar wedged between his lips.

“G’morning Chicky,” She approached with a smile, the coffee still piping hot on the tray. “Jack.”

“Valencia…”

“Brought you boys some coffee and Ev’s got the donuts.”

“Blakely, did you join the Red Cross and forget to tell us?” Harding barked out a laugh, the smoke from his stogie billowing up around him.

“Helping Val, Colonel,” Everett placed the other tray down next to where Val had placed the coffees. “She’s only got two hands and I was already headed to see the Major.”

“Ah I’m just joking with you,” Harding slapped a hand down over Blakely’s shoulder before picking up one of the coffees. “I’m sure she appreciates the extra hand, don’t ya Valencia.”

“Oh, I always do.” She smiled, looking over her shoulder at Ev and giving him a wink before turning back to Harding.

“Alright, well, grab yourself a coffee and come with me.” Harding turned and began walking towards the big table in the center of the room, Val following closely behind him.

With a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw Ev disappear into one of the offices with Jack, the pair of them talking quietly before Kidd shut the door behind him. Attention again on following Colonel Harding, he stopped suddenly, turning to face her, eyebrows raised and cigar pinched between two fingers.

“Gotta wait for Red,” He nodded. “Did you get yourself a coffee?”

“Oh, no…”

“Go on then I know you were all up with the sun this morning.” He looked at her with a brow raised, smirk painting his lips.

“More or less,” She mumbled, turning and hurrying back to where she left the coffee. “Did you eat anything this morning, Chicky?”

“I’ll take a donut as long as Demarco’s dog ain’t get near them.”

“They’re Meatball free, grouchy.” She rolled her eyes as she handed it over to him, hearing the beginning of a scoff coming from him, before someone clearing their throat interrupted him.

Red Bowman appeared in front of them, arms folded across his chest, eyebrow raised in amusement at the banter between the pair of them.

“She’s got your number, Chick,” Red’s thick New England accent was light, a bit more jovial than Chick was in the mornings. “Morning Miss Val, thank you for the coffee.”

“Morning Red, and you’re quite welcome.”

“Are you two done torturing me?” Harding scoffed, gesturing with his hand that held the donut to the folders in front of him at the table.

“Go on then,” Bowman nodded, plucking a coffee from the tray. “I’m sure she’s wondering why you needed her if it’s not to type up your reports.”

“No reports?” Val looked between the two men, brows creased.

“We’ve got replacement crews coming in,” Harding started, gesturing to the folders and piles of paperwork scattered around the table. “Fellas are going to need a warm welcome, and I thought you and Helen might be willing to set up the Interrogation hut.”

“You want coffee and whiskey then?”

“That and if you can spare some of the sweets from the Clubmobile,” Red added.

“A hershey bar or two, sure,” She nodded. “But my dance card is full, gentlemen.”

“Wasn’t asking you to give Blakely the boot for a replacement,” Harding laughed. “I’m not blind, Valencia, I know what’s going on there.”

“Out till the sun came up,” Red shook his head in a laugh. “And still up and doing her job.”

“Well, someone has to caffeinate you boys. And feed you, too, it seems.”

“So you’ll be there to welcome the new boys?”

“I’ll talk to Helen when I get back to the truck,” Val nodded in agreement. “When do they get here?”

“Noon.”

“Noon, today!”

“Yes, Valencia, noon today.” Chick drawled, exhaling from his cigar.

“Christ, Chicky, a bit last minute don’t you think?”

“We found out last night.” Red interjected, watching as the furrow on her face turned deeper with each passing second.

“Well, then I need to get back,” Val nodded, bidding a farewell to both the men, swiping a donut off the tray she had left for them. “And pray that Helen is still standing when I get there.”

She didn’t see Red and Harding chuckling at her as her back was turned, both men fully aware that she’d get the job done despite the small window to do it. She also missed the door to Jack’s office opening as Everett exited, his own brow starting to look like his girlfriends.

“We’ll get it done, Blakely,” Jack murmured from behind him. “I know we will.”

“Yeah… we know when these crews are coming in?”

“Today, 1200 hours,” Jack sighed. “Harding has Val setting up interrogation for them.”

“New fellas are gonna love that,” Everett chuckled, the irony of the new crew’s being greeted by a pretty Red Cross girl not lost on him. “She’s gonna give those boys hell.”

“She already gives all of us hell.” Jack cracked a smile, his usually tough exterior slipping as he extended his hand for Blakely.

“Almost all of us.” Shaking Jack’s hand, the two pilots shared a knowing look before Ev turned to leave the Control Tower. “I’m in the clear.”

————————————

“Tell me again,” Helen groaned, twisting the top off the whiskey bottle. “Why Harding doesn’t want all of us?”

“I wish I knew,” Val sighed, shuffling past Helen with a tray of donuts wedged against her hip. “He just asked for me and you to be here.”

“Knowing Chicky, he doesn’t want Meatball in here jumping all over everyone.”

“The Hundredth’s mascot, banned from the welcoming committee. What a sin.”

At the mention of the husky, both girls could hear him barking and howling from across the field by the Clubmobile. Sticking her head out the door, Val could see Demarco making his way over to them, Meatball pulling and tugging at his leash excitedly at his owner returning.

“Benny’s back,” She turned to Helen who was lining up the glasses, pouring two fingers worth of whiskey into each of them. “And heading our way.”

“So much for keeping Meatball out of here.” Helen chuckled.

“Hey! You girls need a hand?” Benny stuck his head inside the door, Meatball immediately trying to get inside.

“Hi,” Helen turned, chucking the empty whiskey bottle into the trash before moving to the coffee cups. “We’re good, but, shouldn’t you be getting the racks ready with the rest of the fellas for the new guys?”

“To be honest, Helen, I’m not exactly bursting at the seams to meet the new kids.”

His face said what he wasn’t, or couldn’t, about the men coming in. They would be filling the empty racks of those who hadn’t made it back; friends that were lost, or dead, and the original boys were reluctant to get too close. Nobody wanted to lose any more friends than they already had. It had been two months since the original crews flew in from Greenland, thirty-five crews had landed that day and Val had been in this exact same spot welcoming the boys who would become her friends to Thorpe Abbotts with a whiskey and a smile. She’d do the same today, but would these boys be here long enough to become friends? God, she hoped so, that for their sake they wouldn’t go up into the clouds with high hopes and never see the ground below again.

“You girls sure you don’t need help?” He was procrastinating going back to his rack.

“Leave Meatball with Olive and Tattie,” Val gestured back to the Clubmobile. “The new boys should at least be able to have a snack without his hair all over it.”

“Alright,” He nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“There’s an urn with coffee on the truck. It’s full, and needs two people to bring it over here.”

“I can grab it.” Benny nodded, moving to bring Meatball back to the truck.

“Benny you need two people, trust me,” Val followed him outside. “It’s also piping hot.”

John Brady was at the window as the pair of them approached, chatting animatedly with Olive about Shakespeare and his sweetheart back home, Juliet. The two girls had become quick penpals, and Brady had taken to including Olive’s letters with his so that nothing got lost in the mail. Whenever Brady had a spare moment, him and Olive would indulge each other in conversation. It was easy to see that John Brady’s favorite thing to talk about was Juliet. Val found it quite sweet, that the usually stoic, pipe smoking saxophone player softened at the mere mention of her name.

“Hey Brady,” Val nudged his shoulder with hers as she passed. “How’s Juliet?”

“Jules is good, thanks for asking Val,” He grinned as Olive handed him a pack of gum. “Her birthday’s coming up soon.”

“Well, make sure you send her a wish from me.”

“I will. I tell her all about you girls, and if I don’t, I know Olive does.”

“Good,” Val nodded, taking Benny by the elbow once he returned from tying Meatball back up by the girls. “One day I’d like to meet the girl who makes John Brady all starry eyed.”

With a wink, Val and Benny made their way into the back of the Clubmobile to collect the urn and take it back to the hut. There was a second urn already in use by Olive and Tattie, the girls taking coffee from that one for the boys that passed by.

“Handles on the side, Ben,” Val directed him to one side while she settled on the other. “On three.”

“Uno, dùe, trè?”

“Yes,” She laughed, waiting for him to count off in Italian. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it…”

On his count, the pair of them lifted the urn and began moving to exit the truck, Benny taking the stairs backwards while Val guided him down one at a time. Once on the grass, they walked side by side, the urn between them, back towards the hut. They moved quickly, silently, and once inside, Helen was making space for them to put it down on one of the tables. She’d set the cups out on one side of the table, enough sugar to get by before the next delivery of rations came in, and milk that the local farmers graciously brought to base every few days. All that was missing was the men filling the room, nervous and excited energy of their flight in and what was to come. The prospect of the fight ahead glimmering in their eyes.

“You girls all set?”

“All set, Benny,” Val smiled. “Thanks for the help.”

“Any time cugine,” He winked.

“What did you just call her!?” Helen balked.

“Cugine,” Benny laughed. “It means cousin but not really a cousin.”

“Right, like we think of each other as family but there’s no bloodline.” Val explained.

“Italians have a word for everything!”

“Here’s another one,” Val turned back to Benny just as she caught Chicky and Red coming towards the hut. “Vai.”

Go.

“And I’m gone.” Benny grinned, scooting out the door and jogging across to the Clubmobile to pick up Meatball.

The Interrogation hut was busy in almost no time at all. Almost as soon as Harding and Red had joined the two girls, the sound of B-17 engines overtook the entire air base. Jack Kidd was out on the hardstands with the two Majors, getting the new fellas into trucks, speeding off towards Interrogation where Red and Chick would do their part in making sure each fort arrived safely and without issue. Val and Helen were there to greet them with a smile and a warm cup of coffee, or something stronger for those who preferred it.

They all looked so fresh faced as they entered the hut, and Val could see the excitement in some of them. Young boys ready to fight, who if she had to guess, didn’t even know just how bad it was up there. In retrospect, neither did any of the original boys when they first got here, and she remembered the vacant look on Gale Cleven’s face the afternoon they had returned from Bremen. The shock and fear that had full body encompassed the man as he tried to explain what had happened up there. The whiskey he declined, that Egan had promptly poured into his coffee, the noise in the back of the hut he had walked into, choosing to let Curt do all the talking for him. How many of these new faces would look the same in the coming days, weeks, months. How many of them would she even see return?

She had just turned to pour more coffee when a crew entered the room, the pilot looking every bit the part. Dark curls tamed with pomade, bright blue eyes and a mustache- no lucky strike. He was a handsome fella, and offered her a kind smile in return of her own as she offered up a choice of refreshments.

“Coffee or whiskey, Lieutenant?” She smiled, holding one of each in either hand.

“Coffee, please, ma’am.” He nodded politely, and Val clocked an accent that she had only heard from one other person on base. This man was from home. Her home.

“Here you go.” She handed him the cup, ready to move on to the next man in his crew, a shorter man, young but sporting a bald spot under his crush cap. She assumed he was the Co-Pilot, and he was eyeing up the whiskey.

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Val,” She nodded. “Not ma’am or Miss. Val is just fine Lieutenant…”

“Rosenthal. Robert Rosenthal.”

“Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts, Robert.”

The Lieutenant was moving further into the room as Val quickly passed a glass with whiskey to his Co-Pilot, the man grinning as soon as his fingers wrapped around the glass.

“Ah jeez, thanks Miss!”

“You’re welcome, now go on, the Colonel is waiting.” She gestured to where Harding was standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, a cloud of smoke swirling around him.

“Oh, shoot!” The Co-Pilot cursed, running off behind the rest of his crew to join them, whiskey in hand.

Shaking her head, Val carried on with offering up refreshments, watching out of the corner of her eye as Helen chatted with a young pilot who had come in behind Rosenthal and his crew. For someone who had been so sleepy this morning, willing to serve coffee and donuts from the warmth of her bed, Helen looked positively glowing as she poured what looked like a second whiskey for the man. Normally, she’d give Helen a look, but the girl had sat by while she and Olive did the same every time Everett and Dougie walked past the Clubmobile or into the hut. It was important to Val that all of them found a sliver of happiness, and maybe, this new pilot would be to Helen what Ev was to her.

When he leaves her with a dashing smile, Val turns quickly, busying herself with stacking empty glasses and cleaning up crumbs, so as to not get caught spying. Just as the nameless pilot reaches the door, he turns and calls out to Helen, a slight twang to his voice and a sparkle in his eye.

“See you later, Helen of Troy.” He winks, and joins the rest of the crews in the other room, leaving the two women standing there speechless.

“Helen of Troy?” Val turns to Helen, who’s trying furiously to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. Unsuccessfully if she had anything to say about it.

“He’s charming…”

“Yes, he certainly is!”

“You are the leading authority on charming pilots, DiRosano.” She teased.

“Shush, you know what I mean,” Val waves her off, picking up the tray of glasses she stacked, and heads for the door. “What’s his name?”

“Hmm?” Helen seems dazed, lost in a fantasy, and Val can’t help but roll her eyes.

“Oh here we go,” She grins. “His name, Helen. What was the charming pilot's name?”

“Oh! Nash,” The blush was not ceasing its takeover of her fair skin. “Lieutenant Herbert Nash.”

“Well, he certainly seems to have his sights set on you!”

Just as Helen was about to respond, the door opened and Red Bowman stepped out of the room, eyes scanning the front of the hut for something before landing on the coffee urn, and then over to the two girls cleaning up.

“Any more in there, girls?” He gestured to the urn, cigarette between two fingers.

“For you, Red? You don’t even have to ask.” Val winked, setting the tray down by the door to go pour him a coffee.

“Thank you, Valencia,” He groaned, pinching between his brows with two fingers. “These new kids are… Well, they’re kids.”

“They’re just anxious,” Handing over the cup, black with sugar, she could see something behind his eyes. Something fearful. “Same as the other boys were anxious when they got here.”

“These boys somehow seem younger than your boys.” Red sighed, and she could very clearly see the worry on his face.

“Our boys will lead them through,” Val nodded, knowing she felt the same worry even though Ev and Curt had been on their fair share of missions, that worry never subsided. “I know they will.”

She had spent the rest of the afternoon repeating her own words over and over. Our boys will lead them through tumbling over and over like a stone as she willed it to be true. She had seen too many men lose the fight already, coffee and a kind send off one minute, and the next she was scanning the faces as they shuffled through the door to see who had made it back and silently taking stock of the missing men. Quietly, she would keep their names off to the side, knowing that Curt and Ev were the ones who would see them meet their demise- hard as it was for the girls to not see those boys again it was infinitely harder on the boys who saw it happen first hand. Friends lost, sons, husbands and brothers who would never see home again. That, she had realized, was exactly what she had welcomed to Thorpe Abbotts earlier today. Boys that, if she had to guess, a handful or more would never see the inside of that hut again after their first raid. Boys who would maybe get to spend one night in the Officers Club with a good pretty girl to dance with and a hope that maybe she’d be waiting. Chances are she would be waiting, but what would return, no one could say for certain.

“You’re quiet,” Tattie looked up from where she was putting away the leftover snacks and newspapers in the Clubmobile. “Everything go alright with the new boys?”

“Oh, yea, they were fine. Eager.” She punctuates the sentence with a forced laugh.

“I figured as much. When they went past they were all wide eyed like it was Christmas morning.”

“Red looked a little nervous,” She slid the empty coffee urn back onto the shelf, turning to face Tattie. “He kept going on about how they were just kids.”

“They are kids,” Tattie shook her head. “This damn war.”

“I get why Benny didn’t want to be around when they showed up…”

“Almost all the boys went up for practice just before the new forts landed.”

“Are we wrong to get attached?” Val questioned, lighting a cigarette. “I don’t mean Ev or Doug, but the other boys.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, remembering Croz’s wife’s name, or how Claytor takes his coffee. Checking the score of the Yankees game in a three day old paper from home just so Egan has a better morning. That kind of stuff.”

Val lets her gaze fall to Olive who’s cleaning up outside the truck with Helen, the latter telling her all about their afternoon and the crews that had come through. She can’t help but hope that disappointment doesn’t find its way to her friend, the smile on her face giving Val the reminder of what they’re doing here and why they’re doing it. It’s more than coffee and donuts or snacks for the boys. It’s a smile that reminds them they’re still human, that they’re not just killing machines trained to fight a war; the boy who left home is still in there somewhere. It’s a friendly ear when their sweetheart sends a letter and they can’t wait to see someone about it. Or when their newborn starts crawling and their wife writes to tell them all about it in such detail it’s as if they’re seeing it happen in their mind's eye. It’s someone remembering how they take their coffee or who their favorite baseball team is. It’s having friends and someone to laugh with. If it meant being able to smile and making someone else smile, she didn’t mind getting attached all that much. They were good guys. Flyboys, sure, but they were good.

“No,” Tattie shook her head, a smile on her face. “I think it’s important we get attached to our boys.”

“Our boys…”

“Well, who else is going to look after them?”

“In the sky, they look after each other. But down here, on the ground, you’re right Tat… those are our boys.”

“And that damn dog.” She rolled her eyes, a stream of smoke passing through her lips.

“No,” She grinned. “We can’t forget about Meatball.”

———————————————————————————

She had walked back to the hut with Tattie, the two smoking and chatting idly as they took stock of all the new faces walking around base. Thorpe Abbotts seemed crowded now, the new fellas plus those who had been here from the start now taking up space in every available hut, rack and seat in the mess hall. All the hardstands were occupied and in the back of her head she filed away that they’d be brewing more coffee and making more donuts each day.

She’d hoped to run into Everett on her way back. They had parted ways in the Control tower that morning, and when she had left he was still in Jack’s office. Had she known they were in there shooting the shit, she’d have popped her head in and snarked at Jack a bit before leaving them both, but when Ev mentioned he needed to see Jack for something, she wasn’t about to interrupt that. She could surmise that the boys had their hands full now, but she’d remain hopeful that they’d see each other in the mess hall; or at the very least, he’d come find her before it was lights out on base. And considering no one slept the night before, they’d all be lights out pretty early if she had to venture a guess.

“Olive said you didn’t even go to bed last night?”

“Oh, no. Delays the hangover.”

“And how do you feel now, Spaatz?”

“Like the Clubmobile rolled over me, reversed, and rolled over me again.” She groaned.

“That’s certainly one way to describe a hangover.” Val laughed, not missing the scowl on Tattie’s face as she nudged her.

“And you?” The other woman questioned, eyebrows raised. “How are you feeling now that everything’s settled with Olive and Douglass?”

“I’m exhausted,” Val groaned. “But it’s a good exhausted, you know what I mean?”

“There’s a good way to be tired?”

“Sure there is!” Val exclaimed, explanation at the ready. “It’s like, when you come home after a night on the town; you danced all night and your feet hurt, and it’s a chore to even open the jar of cold cream, but you had the most wonderful time and you’d do it all over again…”

“So you’re not saying you’d argue with Blakely again, but…”

“But I’d sit out in the grass with all of you and watch the sun come up every night if I could.”

“Back at you, Valencia.”

Just as they reached the door of their hut, they could hear Olive and Helen inside already, the pair giggling quietly. Helen had been in a quiet daze all day after her encounter with the charming replacement pilot in Interrogation earlier. It seemed he had left such an impression on Helen that she wanted to tell any of the girls who would listen; Val would listen a hundred times over to see her friend smile. Pushing the door open, the two girls looked over from Olive’s bed, smiles wide and eyes sparking with mischief.

“You’ve got mail…” Olive’s tone was a playful, sing-song.

“What don’t I know?” Her green eyes narrowed in playful scrutiny as she made her way towards her bed, finding a piece of her own floral printed stationery laying folder on the pillow.

“Nope!” Olive mimed zipping her lips.

“Olive!” Val stomped her foot like a petulant child, shaking her head as she picked up the paper, smiling as she unfolded it to find Everett’s messy handwriting scrawled across it.

Honey-

Saw you were swarmed with new faces in interrogation and didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll be back a bit later. Our crew is taking a few of the new fellas up on a practice run. I’ll be back in time to eat with you in the Officer's Mess tonight- pick you up at 5:30. I Love you!”

-E

Her eyes flew across the paper three times before finally looking up. Olive’s gaze was there to meet hers, the Brit now standing in front of Val, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes and a smirk on her face.

“He…oh my god…”

“He what, honey?” Helen, who was still perched on Olive’s bed, looked over in concern.

“That’s the first time… In a note!”

“The first time for what?” Helen, again, posed the question to Val.

“Val? Honey, are you okay?” This time it was Tattie.

“DID YOU KNOW!?” Val’s gaze turned wide and sharp as she focused on Olive, her voice a few octaves higher than it should have been.

“Did I know what?” The other woman teased, her voice taking on an almost innocent tone.

“THIS!” Val waved the sheet of stationary in her face.

“What’s it say?” Olive jokingly tried to peer around it, hoping to catch a word or two.

“English, please!”

“Okay, okay…” She finally relented, taking the seat next to Val on the bed. “I promised him I wouldn’t let it slip before you found out or he told you.”

“How did you…”

“Dougie and I were in here earlier. I was reading my mail when Ev came looking for him.”

“Yea okay, you two were reading.” Val rolled her eyes.

“Don’t change the subject, Valencia!”

“Olive! Please tell me that I’m not sitting where…”

“No, Helen, you’re safe. Nothing happened.”

“As long as I’m not- “

“Would you two please focus! Everett just said he loves me!”

“Well of course he loves you!” Tattie rolled her eyes, walking past on her way to the showers.

“No, I mean, that’s the first time he’s ever said it.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She shouted, remaining in the conversation while freshening up.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, for starters, it’s the way you gaze into each other's eyes when you think no one is looking…” Helen grinned, rolling over to her stomach on the bed, chin propped on her hands and feet in the air like she was at a slumber party.

“Or when we are looking.” Olive teased, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Val. “Here Chicken, come on…”

Val gratefully accepts the cigarette from Olive, taking a long pull before exhaling again. Her next words come out in a swirl of white smoke, her eyes glassy like she’s lost in a memory.

“The last person who told me they loved me…”

“There was someone before Blakely?” Tattie’s head popped out from the wall of the bathroom.

“I don’t like talking about it,” Val sighed. “We met when I started working at the bank. He was a big shot and I was a secretary.”

“Val, you don’t have to tell us.”

“No, it’s okay. I want to,” She sighed. “I think I need to, to finally be rid of him.”

“Rid of him?”

“He was a real sweet talker,” She started. “Not like Curt or Ev. He was the kind of guy who could charm the skirt off a nun. Not even Curt can do that.”

“Oh…”

“So, he charmed me. Charmed me real good, and made me lots of promises.”

“Val, did he…”

“No,” Shaking her head violently, she took another drag of her cigarette. “I was so enthralled by him, I had wanted to.”

“So what happened?”

“Oh no…” Helen’s hand was covering her mouth, eyes wide in shock as she put two and two together.

“He was with another woman,” She shook her head. “I don’t know who she was, but I begged Curt to take me home.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“Yes. In the police station. Curt beat him within an inch of his life. They both got arrested for a public brawl.”

“Valencia!”

“I had to identify them both,” She sighed. “Curt had claimed self defense, so, when it came time to make my statement, I said that my ex had attacked me, and Curt fought back in my defense.”

“Oh my god!”

“I tried dating other fellas after the dust settled, but Curt was always wildly protective, and made it difficult. I get why he did it.”

“He really is your protector isn’t he…”

“Until I found out he was the one who divulged my cocktail order to Everett…”

“Curt did!?”

“He did…” She smiled, the cigarette now burned nearly down to her fingers. “He surprises me in funny ways like that.”

“Insufferable, that one,” Olive chuckled. “But he really is a good egg.”

“What are you going to tell Blakely?” Tattie had joined them back in the main area of the hut.

“That I love him too,” She grinned. “Because I do love him.”

Everett’s note to Val was now safely tucked into the book on her side table. The first I Love You now pressed gently between the pages of The Great Gatsby so that she could fix herself up in time for dinner. Eating in the Officers Mess meant putting on your cleanest uniform, and her coffee stained, donut greased, jumpsuit would not do. Not when Chick Harding was a few tables away, and the high ranking members of their airbase were dining in the same room. That’s what she told herself at least, as she sat in front of the mirror in her skirt and blouse, pinning her hair so that it fell neatly against her shoulders.

The neatly pressed uniform was for The Brass, but the victory red lips, mascara on her lashes and rouge pinched cheeks were for Everett. She knew that even if she was still wearing a jumpsuit covered in grease or Meatball’s fur, he’d still pull her close and kiss her hello, but she liked the idea of getting primped for him. For looking clean on his arm when she knew he’d be showing up in a clean uniform as well. At the mirror next to her, Olive was doing the same thing. Painstakingly pinning her hair away from her face, and applying her lipstick just so that Dougie could kiss it off of her later, she was sure.

“That color looks good on you.”

“Yea?” Olive glanced at her in the reflection of the mirror, eyes only just meeting hers before going back to her hair. “It’s not too dark?”

“Not at all, it’s the perfect shade of red for you.”

“I think only you can pull off that Victory Red,” Olive chuckled. She remembered the first time Val had helped her get ready for the club and had applied her own red lipstick, the brighter red just not working with her skin at all. “It was not for me.”

“Oh gosh, do you remember how fast you wiped it off!”

“Immediate no,” Olive laughed, a sigh immediately following as she threw a hair pin to the table. “Ugh, this side does not want to cooperate!”

“Here, let me…” Val stood, coming to stand behind her as she deftly began rolling Olive’s hair between her fingers and pinning it back for her.

“How do you do it?”

“From an early age my mother taught me to be a ‘proper lady’,” She shook her head before breaking out into an impression of her mother. “Valencia, don’t leave the house without lipstick on. Don’t forget to set your hair.”

Olive laughed fully at Val’s broken English accent, making it sound as if her Italian mother was in the room with them.

“Is that what she sounds like?”

“Oh yes. And Nonna, not a word of English.”

“Well, you’re a whizz,” Olive looked up at her as she put the final pin in place. “I need to pay better attention when you do your hair.”

“You’re doing just fine chickie,” Val winked, slipping on her watch and moving to pick her jacket up off the bed. “We were all there once.”

“Thanks,” Olive beamed, pushing back from the vanity and standing to put her own jacket on. “Now come on, it’s almost 5:30 and if I know those two…”

“They’re probably already outside.” Val finished for her.

Ev stood with Doug outside, the two men smoking while quietly discussing their practice mission earlier today with the replacements. Ev had taken a handful of the new boys up, and leading the wing, tested them on formations, calling out patterns, and PR’s from the Navigators to Radio Men. Dougie had simulated a bomb drop, all the boys in Just A Snappin had watched to see just what the new boys were capable of. There had been two forts in particular they’d been impressed with, but for the most part, the new boys were as green as the paint on a B-17.

“I wanted to take Ol to the pub tonight, but that's not happening…”

“I know,” Ev groaned. “I owe Val a date but, based on what Jack told me earlier, we're about to go through the mud for a bit.”

“This whole place is mud,” Doug grumbled. “Never stops raining.”

“This one sounds big…”

“He say where?”

“No, Harding’s keeping it close to the vest.”

“Dammit… it would be nice to know what we’re up against for once.”

““Yea,” Ev took a final pull of his cigarette before tossing it in the makeshift ashtray outside the girls’ hut. “Explains why he wants us looking after these new kids.”

“Fucking replacements…” Dougie sighed.

“Those two from Laredo were damn good,” Ev raised an eyebrow at him. “Rosenthal and Nash?”

“That kid Rosie almost gave you a run for your money, pal.”

“I’m not worried about him,” Ev nodded. “But some of these other kids wouldn’t know formation if I had it painted on the wing.”

Douglass was about to reply with a quick remark about how they should paint it on the wing, when the door opened and Val and Olive appeared. Both girls in their Red Cross dress uniform, a far cry from the sleepy faces they had found at the Clubmobile earlier in the day. Ev’s gaze immediately found Val’s, his hazel eyes finding hers just as her smile widened. Obviously she had seen his note, she was ready at the time he had told her to be, but what had she thought of that truth bomb he had dropped? Suddenly a bit nervous, he played it off with a kiss, greeting her as he did every time they were together.

“Hi, pretty,” He pulled back, smiling at her. “How was your day?”

“Oh my day was lovely, dear,” She teased. “Did you have fun with the replacements?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Taking her hand, he began leading her away from the hut, checking over his shoulder to find Olive and Doug still greeting each other. “Were they respectful at least when they showed up?”

“Oh, very!” She nodded. “I think one of the new boys might be from Brooklyn, but I need to find out.”

“Another face from home,” He shook his head with a smile. “You and Curt will love that.”

“He sounded it when I handed him his coffee earlier.”

“Did you catch his name?”

“Rosenthal…”

“Oh, Rosie!” Ev’s eyes went wide. “His crew went up with us after they met with Chick. He’s a pilot and boy can he fly.”

“Yea? Him and his Co-Pilot passed through kind of quickly, but their friend took a shine to Helen and lingered.”

“Let me guess,” Ev laughed. “Nash?”

“Yes! How did you know?”

“He was yappin up a storm in the equipment hut about the pretty Red Cross girl who served him whiskey and Dougie and I heard him.”

“Dougie didn’t try to strangle him, did he?”

“No,” He punches out a laugh, recalling the week they’ve all just endured. “We had a feeling it was Helen since Tattie was in the truck when we left.”

“She’s smitten, that’s for sure.”

“Well, for his sake, he better treat her right.”

Val nodded in agreement as they reached the Officers Mess, Everett pulling the door open for her and allowing her to enter ahead of him. Once they were both inside, he led her to a table, one hand on the small of her back, the other quickly pulling his crush cap off and tucking it under his arm. He found Benny saving a few seats in the middle of the room, Croz already seated across from him, John Brady to his left. The three of them were talking animatedly, Meatball’s head resting between Croz and Brady.

“Fellas,” Ev greeted, pulling out a chair for Val and waiting for her to sit. “How’re we all doing?”

“Blakely,” Brady offered in greeting. “Nice to see you outside the truck, Val.”

“You saw me in the club last night…”

“I know but, this is what Jules would call a proper conversation. So, it’s…”

“Nice to not be rushed off from the truck, or shouting over the band in the club. I hear you.”

“Exactly, yes.”

“Dougie with you, Ev?” Benny looked over at him, Ev now in the seat across from Val so that they could see each other. He also ventured a guess that she’d want Olive next to her.

“He and Olive were behind us, should be here in a minute.”

“Are those two done fighting now?” Croz looked up from the table.

“They had better be,” Demarco grumbled. “Otherwise I had Tattie Spaatz on my shoulders and stayed up till sunrise for nothing.”

“Wait, who was on your shoulders!?” Harry balked, his big brown eyes wide in shock.

“Tattie… it’s a long story. But that one,” Benny gestured to Val with his thumb. “And her friends are all nosey and couldn’t let Doug and Olive make up in peace, so they had to spy through the windows.”

“What windows?” Brady chimed in.

“These windows,” Ev laughed. “Doug and Olive came in here to talk-“

“No, you forced them in here to talk,” Val corrected him. “And I couldn’t see in the little window in the door, so I used the windows up there.”

“Jesus christ, Val!” Harry laughed.

“Biddick was holding all the jackets, Dickie had Helen on his shoulders, it was certainly something.” Benny recalled, the moment Tattie started ordering him around coming to the forefront of his mind.

As if on cue, James Douglass came sauntering over to the table with Olive tucked under his arm, the pair grinning like teenagers.

“That about answer your question, Croz?” Val laughed.

“Sure does.”

Doug, doing his best to behave like a gentleman, pulled the chair out next to Val for Olive, before rounding the table to take the seat next to Everett.

“So, fellas, how’s it going then?”

“Could ask you the same thing, Dougie.” Brady grinned.

“Oh I’m great!” Doug beamed, winking at Olive across the table.

Val just catches her rolling her eyes at him before she turns towards Brady, the two of them discussing the letter Olive had received from his sweetheart Juliet earlier in the day. After Val had divulged her past to the girls in the hut, Olive had offered to lighten the mood by telling the girls all about the letter she had received from Juliet Thompson. Still flabbergasted by the sheer size of the letter, Val could only describe what the girl had written as a novel, and outside of James Douglass she had not seen anything capture Olive’s interest quite so much.

“She write you an essay?” Brady jokes, and Val immediately knows that this is a common occurrence for Juliet.

“She did, actually,” Olive nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah,” Dougie interjects. “We read it together.” The boys at the table break out into a roaring cheer at his remark, and Val see’s Olive’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red as she begins to laugh, Val falling into a fit of giggles alongside her.

“James!” Olive scolds, hand finding Val’s on top of the table, the two of them with tears in their eyes. “Keep it quiet!” “Yeah, Doug,” Ev shakes his head in amusement, ruffling his hair a little. “Keep it quiet.”

Across the mess hall, Val see’s the pilot from earlier, Rosenthal, sitting at a table with a few other replacements. His Co-Pilot and Helen’s new eye candy, Nash are sitting with him, along with a few other members of who she assumes are both their crews. He catches her eye briefly, and she offers him a wave before turning back to Everett who’s talking about the crews he led up earlier. Brady had taken the Crash Wagon crew up on a practice run so as to avoid having to meet them, so he seems especially intrigued by what Ev has to say about how the new kids had flown.

“Hey Val, looks like you’ve caught the eye of some of the replacements,” Benny gestures to the group of men at another table staring at her with what could only be described as hearts in their eyes. “Starry eyed kids.”

“Rosenthal and his crew?” She sighed, shaking her head with a laugh.

“Uh, no actually…”

“What?” Everett’s head turns in the direction of where Benny is looking, his hazel eyes narrowing, his face taking on a dangerous scowl.

“Everett, they’re not doing anything, they’re just-”

“Drooling at my girlfriend like a pack of dogs.” He practically growled, gaze fixated on the table of replacements. .

“Ev, hey pal,” Dougie dropped a hand to his shoulder, shaking him out of it. “They’re just kids, they’ll learn.”

“Yea… learn not to ogle other people’s girlfriends.” His gaze still on the new kids, voice raised to get his point across. The faces of the replacements go pale as they realize that the woman they’ve been whispering about is the Captain’s girlfriend.

“Everett…” Val warned.

Before he could say anything, Gale Cleven’s voice carried over from the table with the replacements, the major standing with his hands on his hips as he addressed the boys now staring at him with wide eyes.

“Fellas,” He nodded. “Those girls will get your utmost respect, understood?”

A chorus of yes, major echoed through the room, Buck nodding in satisfaction at their answer before moving on.

“Boys, Miss Lewis, Miss Val,” He offered them all a smile, giving Val a slight wink knowing she heard him with the replacements. “Enjoy dinner everyone.”

“Major,” Everett nodded. “Thank you sir.”

“You see?” Val nudged him gently, as Buck walked towards where John Egan was waiting for him with Curt and Dickie. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go all…”

“Green with envy?”

“Yea, that.”

“Don’t worry,” She grinned, picking her napkin up and placing it in her lap. “I only have eyes for you.”

——————————————————————

By the time dinner is finished, the lack of sleep has fully caught up with just about everyone, and the girls make the decision to forgo the Officers Club for the evening. Instead they choose to spend time sitting outside the Red Cross hut, taking the chairs they’ve commandeered from the club outside and propping the door open so that the record player can be heard.

“Ev, we need to get a record player in our rack.” Doug laments, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Olive who's perched on his lap.

“Croz has a record player,” Ev sighs, tucking Val into his side as they squeeze into the borrowed armchair together.

“Yea, but he plays fancy stuff.” Dougie gripped around his Lucky Strike.

“What exactly is fancy stuff, Doug?” Val laughs, peering over at him.

“You know, opera and stuff.”

“Classical music is nice. Nonna plays a lot of classical Italian at home, it’s actually quite nice.”

“What does Pearl play in her house, Ol?” Dougie ducks his head down to peer at his girlfriend, a smile blooming on her face at the mere mention of her grandmother.

“Oh, a lot of Glenn Miller in her house.” She replies in a sigh, and Val can tell she’s thinking of home.

The feeling of nostalgia spreads over them all like a warm blanket, the girls sharing anecdotes of home and growing up and living with their grandmothers. Val is practically draped over Everett in their shared seat, leaning over to get closer to Olive as she shares tales from the kitchen; making meatballs and sauce on Sundays, and arancini every time there’s a special occasion. That once she was old enough, Nonna DiRosano would beckon her into the kitchen and teach her how to prepare the traditional meals so that one day she could cook them for her own family. She recalls how up until the day she left for England, she would request a traditional Sunday meal for her birthday every year, no matter what day of the week it would fall on. She laughed thinking about how Curt and his mother would always need to be present at the table, the Irish woman and her son happy to share in delicacies that were special to their friends that had become like family. In turn, Val had also learned how to prepare a traditional St. Patrick’s Day meal from Mrs. Biddick; the older woman had once thought her son would be the apple of Val’s eye, and he was, but as a brother was to a sister. Still, she had insisted that Val learn, because one day I won’t be here to cook for my son, and heaven knows what kind of wife he’ll end up with. Val’s impression of Mrs. Biddick is spot on, her Irish accent something that has the others laughing and for a moment, forgetting all about where they are. That blanket of nostalgia is warm, tucked around them so snug, they can almost feel the softness of its cover.

The boys, both enthralled at hearing all about how Val and Olive had grown up, begin to share some of their childhood memories as well. Everett is quick to share that he was a troublemaker of a child, something that Val immediately finds amusing because as much as he enjoys putting his feet up and having fun, her Everett is the most GI of GI’s according to the other men around base. She’s hard pressed to agree with them, because when the time comes for a mission, he’s all business. Tattie and Helen join them as Everett is in the middle of telling a story about how nothing fragile was ever safe in his parent’s home, his hazel eyes bright with childlike mischief before he morphed into his best impression of his mother, just to get a rise out of his audience.

“All I heard was, and it scared the life out of me, let me tell ya, was ‘Everett Ernest, if you so much as look at that vase–’” He crowed, Val laughing from her spot in his lap.

“Wait, wait!” Olive shakes her head, wanting to make sure she heard him correctly. “Your middle name is Ernest?”

“Yes, and what of it, English?” He fires back with a grin.

“I'm sorry, it's just–” Her own laughter takes the words right out of her mouth, her head thrown back onto Doug’s shoulder. “I didn't expect that. You don't–”

The laughter takes over once more, Everett shaking his head at her antics, the pilot now hiding his face in Val’s shoulder.

“Oh come on, Ol!” Val laughs, her fingers combing through Everett’s hair.

“You don't look like an Ernest, that's all.” She finishes.

“Go on then, what's yours?” Ev challenges her, eyes narrowed.

“Maude.” She giggles, catching the glint in his eye as she says it.

“Maude?” It's his turn to laugh now, the sound carrying across the open night air. “Jesus, Ol, that's worse than Ernest!”

“I think it's cute,” Dougie says, sweetly tapping her nose gently.

“Thank you!” Her nose wrinkles sweetly under his finger. “I think so too.”

“I think Ernest is adorable,” Val grins, turning to face him, Olive and Dougie now in their own little world. “Suits you very well.”

“What’s yours?” Ev prods, his hand coming up to twirl a loose curl around his finger.

“Chiara,” She sighs. “Valencia Chiara.”

“Beautiful…” He whispers, bringing her face closer to his, noses touching just so.

“You think so?”

He nods gently, the space between them almost non-existent.

Val can feel him tense up underneath her, his body going stiff as they remain pressed close together. There’s a pretty good idea of what might have caused it running laps in her mind, and she resolves to finally put the man under her out of his misery with a bit of teasing.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong…”

“Ev, you’re really tense.” She pushes, trying to get him to crack.

“No, no I’m okay,” He shifts under her, and she can tell he’s practically begging his body to relax. “Honest.”

“You don’t seem okay…”

“Promise, I’m okay.”

“Would it make you feel better if you knew that I loved you too?” Peering down at him, her eyes are dancing with mirth as her mouth turns up into a smile.

“Yes, actually it would-wait… you’ve been holding onto that all night havent you?”

“Well, you sprung it on me,” She teased. “I thought, only fair to return the favor.”

You’re terrible…” His whole body relaxes under her, his head tipping back to rest on the back of the chair. He’s smiling, the same smile as the first time he brought her a drink at the club, and asked her to dance just two months ago.

“Maybe I am. But, you love me in spite of it.”

“I do love you…I love you so much Val.” His mouth slants over her’s without a second thought, one hand tangled in her hair as the other wraps around her waist and holds her close. They’re so lost in each other, this moment, that they don’t hear Tattie clearing her throat as she takes a seat on the short brick wall at the front of the hut, nor do they hear Doug and Olive trying to get their attention.

“Hellooo,” Tattie calls out to them. “Lovebirds, the rest of us are still here.”

“Hmm? Oh, yea yea, we know.” Val waves her away, tucking herself back into Everett’s chest.

“Did you tell him?” Olive presses.

She’s smiling as she takes the cigarette from Doug, his blue eyes narrowing playfully before snatching it back from between her lips just as soon as she’s taken a pull from it.

“What do you think?” Val winks.

The girls break out into a gaggle of squeals and laughter, both Everett and Dougie looking on as they smile and carry on with glee. Seeing them outside of the truck and in their uniforms, smiling and carrying on as girls were meant to, not under the din of war and loss, made both the boys smile. Tattie pulls her cigarettes out, lighting the last one and tossing the box to the side. She passes it to Val, who takes a pull before passing to Helen who’s sitting between the two couples.

Helen, the most inexperienced smoker, keeps coughing at each drag she takes. Each cough is dainty and delicate, in a way that only Helen can manage.

“Helen, doll,” Olive urges. “Put that out, you're hurting yourself!”

“I don't wanna look like the party pooper!” She gripes.

“I can promise, you're not,” Olive laughs, gesturing with a wave of her hand to give her the cigarette, the tip covered in her lipstick.

As she stubs it out, four men round the corner, all of them wide eyed as they spot both Captains sitting outside so casually. Val looks up with a grin and waves, beckoning them over while Helen visibly swoons at the sight of the thin, dark haired pilot.

“Ohhhh,” Olive teases, knowingly. “Is that Nash?.”

Helen giggles, tucking an invisible strand of hair behind her ear as she nods shyly.

“Oh, Helen, your hair is fine.” Olive guffaws, shaking her head.

The quartet of replacements approaches hesitantly, Nash immediately making a beeline for Helen without so much as a wave to Val and Olive, or acknowledging Ev and Doug. They take it in stride as Val stands from Everett’s lap to greet Rosie, Pappy and the third man who she hasn’t officially met yet.

“Rosie,” Ev extends his hand for him to shake before moving to do the same with the other two men. “Fellas, enjoying yourselves?”

“Captain Blakely,” Rosie nods, standing straight. “Miss Val.”

“Rosie, it’s alright, you don’t have to do that out here,” Everett insists with a kind smile. “We’re all just shooting the breeze.”

“Yea, come join us,” Val grins at them, turning to wave Olive over towards where they’re gathered. “Olive, come meet the new fellas!”

Olive is off Doug’s lap like a shot, pulling Tattie with her as she joins Val and Everett with the new boys. The girls don’t see Everett slip backwards towards where Doug is still sitting, leaving Val to introduce the new boys to both Tattie and Olive.

“Olive, Tattie, this is Robert,” Val begins. “His Co-Pilot Pappy, Speas is Nash’s Co-Pilot and Nash is…where's he gone off to?”

“I'll give ya three guesses,” Pappy wiggles his eyebrows.

“That was fast.” Olive titters. “He's keen.”

“He sure is.” He says, looking at Olive. “Sorry Miss…?”

“Lewis. Olive Lewis.”

“No way!” He gestures to himself, hand coming to his chest in a fit of excitement. “Pappy Lewis!”

“Oh?!” Olive squeals, clutching at his arm in excitement before remembering her surroundings. “I mean, it's a pretty common name, Pappy.”

“Never met a Brit with the same one before though,” He ponders. “Truth be told, I’ve never met a Brit until just now.”

“It’s your lucky day,” Olive grins at him. “A Brit and a long lost cousin all at once.”

“Hey, Rosie!” He hollers, unaware that his pilot is still standing right next to him, watching the entire thing unfold with Val and Tattie. “Came all the way to England and found my cousin!”

“Pappy, she's not–” He tries to reason.

Pappy pulls Olive into a one armed hug, the over excited man resembling Meatball when he’s tied to the pole outside the Clubmobile and trying to get attention from everyone as they pass by on their way. Olive quickly pulls Pappy over towards Doug, and Val can see the excitement on both of their faces at the blooming friendship between them; Olive doing exactly what Val had been questioning all afternoon. The question of caring too much, getting too attached, seeming millions of miles away as new friends blended with old friends, something special igniting between all of them.

“Rosie, ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head to the rack and get some sleep,” Speas addresses the group. “It’s been a day.”

“Oh, of course, go on then. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Val waves goodnight, before watching as he claps Rosie on the shoulder before turning towards their designated hut.

“We won’t be long,” Rosie nods after him. “Nash is probably going to be a while, but I’ll wait for Pappy.”

“Come sit,” Val turns back towards where they had all been gathered earlier. “The record player is still going, and we’re just relaxing.”

“I don’t want to intrude, really.”

“Robert-”

“Rosie’s fine, Miss Val.”

“Just Val, please.” She narrows her eyebrows playfully at him as she takes her seat back outside the hut, Everett standing to pull Doug’s now empty chair over for Rosie to sit in, while Pappy takes a seat on the half wall next to Tattie.

“Yea, come on fellas, no pressure,” Ev pulls out his cigarettes, offering one to Rosie who politely declines. Pappy accepts, lighting it before offering to share it with Tattie. “Besides, she’s been itching to ask you a few questions.”

“Everett,” She rolls her eyes, but stops when she realizes Olive and Doug are nowhere to be found. “Hey, where’d they go? Are they reading again?”

“They went for a walk,” He gave her a look that said there was more to it, but he didn’t want to kill the mood. “But I changed the record after they left.”

“Artie Shaw…” Rosie commented, picking up on the melody coming from the open door of the Red Cross hut.

“The man knows his stuff,” Pappy commented. “I’m surprised he’s not playing with Benny Goodman instead.”

“Do you play?” Everett asked, forearms braced on his thighs as he focused on Rosie.

“No, not a note,” Rosie chuckled, turning towards Everett. “My mother and sister though, boy can they play.”

“So, you prefer Rosie over Robert then…”

“My mother calls me Robert.” His face twists into something childish, and she can immediately tell he misses his mother, but maybe doesn’t miss hearing his full name all the time.

“And his sweetheart calls him Robbie!”

“Pappy!”

“What! I’m just letting them know!” He shrugs from where he’s sitting, a laugh bubbling up that he tries to cover with a cough.

“Okay, so, Rosie, what part of Brooklyn are you from?” Val turns to him, a twinkle in her eye.

“How did you-”

“I’m from Bensonhurst.” She grins, red lips stretched wide as she sees Rosie’s eyes widen in recognition.

“I grew up in Flatbush!”

“Oh we’re practically neighbors!” She turned to Ev with a smile, explaining. “Flatbush and Bensonhurst are ten minutes apart, honey.”

“Yeah, guess we are!”

“And is your sweetheart in Flatbush too?” She prods.

“She is, yeah…”

“What’s her name?” Everett asks, flicking the ash of his cigarette to the ground before tossing it into the ashtray.

“Josephine,” Rosie smiles, a far off look in his eye. “I uhh, I call her Jo.”

“Rosie Rosenthal, you and I are going to be great friends.” Val nods, immediately feeling a sense of peace with Rosie and Pappy.

Val makes a mental note to introduce Rosie to Croz, knowing that his wife is living by herself in the city and could probably use a friend to help pass the time. Based on the friendly disposition of the man, she could only surmise that his Josephine was as mild mannered and kind as he had been so far, and as a fellow Brooklyn girl, Val had resolved to write to her once she got to know Rosie a little better. If she were on the opposite side of things, she would want someone telling her how Everett was truly managing while overseas. Then again, if she had remained on the other side of things, she wouldn’t know Everett, and would simply be waiting for letters from England from Curt. He was another one who she had made a mental note to introduce to Rosie, though she wondered if Curt’s brash personality would be too much for the soft spoken boy from Flatbush. Then again, you could never have too many friends.

“Hey uh, let me ask you something,” Pappy garnered the attention of the group. “Did I see a dog running around the hardstands earlier?”

“That’s Meatball,” Tattie groaned, catching a look from Val. “What! Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what?” Val laughed, knowing exactly where Tattie was headed.

“Yea, Tat, Meatball’s a good boy,” Ev cut in teasingly. “He loves you, why don’t you love him?”

“Oh I like him just fine, Blakely,” She chuckled. “But I don’t like my clothes covered in doggy fur, or when he gets inside the Clubmobile.”

“Wait wait, hold on,” Pappy leans forward, eyes wide in amusement. “His name is Meatball?”

“Yes.”

“And he goes into the Clubmobile?”

“Yes.”

“What, does he make coffee and donuts too?”

“Oh no, he’s Benny DeMarco’s dog,” Everett chuckled. “He won him in a game of craps when we came over from Greenland.”

“He brought that dog up in a B-17?!” Rosie balked, eyes the size of saucers, reminiscent of when Val had found out how the Husky had made it to Thorpe Abbotts.

“He did, yea. Got him a mask and everything.” Ev laughed, remembering how Benny had paid a whole three dollars for a mask for Meatball before loading him into Our Baby in Greenland.

The five of them sat there a while longer, casual conversation and laughter surrounding them with ease. That blanket from earlier, the softness and warmth that had covered them had returned, the air around them comfortable and calm. A moment that had Val wondering just how long it would last. How long would it be before the light was on, and the boys were rushing between the briefing hut and the hardstand. Coffee and a donut for the road, a goodbye kiss and a prayer to return safely. Waiting in the Interrogation Hut to count the forts as they returned, rosary beads clutched between her fingers, and watchful eyes counting the men as they staggered back from their mission.

As the thoughts swirled in her mind, the sound of the siren cut through the night air and pulled the blanket off them with a vengeance. Red Bowman’s voice fell upon them as the siren came to a stop, his thick New England accent the only thing anyone could hear.

The light was on.

Everyone back to your racks.

It was as if she had willed it to happen just by hoping it wouldn’t.

“Well boys, you heard the man, light’s on.” Ev groaned, standing from his chair, hands held out to help Val as she moved to stand.

“The light?” Pappy asked, brows knit together.

“We’re flying tomorrow,” He nodded, gesturing to all the men filtering out of the Officer’s Club and back to their racks. “Better head back to your racks, you’ll find out in the morning if you’re on stand down or not.”

“Alright then,” Rosie stood, gesturing for Pappy to follow him. “Thanks for the warm welcome, everyone. Everett, Val, Tattie, have a good night.”

“G’night Rosie, Pappy,” Tattie waved, making her way inside the hut. “Val, I’ll give you two a minute.”

“Thanks Tat,” She smiled. “I’ll be in soon.”

With Rosie and Pappy gone, and Tattie in the hut, Everett took the opportunity to pull Val aside and give her a proper good night.

“You alright?” He looked down at her, his arms coming to rest around her waist as he held her close. “You look a little spooked.”

“No, I’m alright,” She peered up at him. “I just worry every time that god forsaken light goes on and you have to go back up.”

“Hey, I promise I’m always going to fight to come back to you.”

“Always?”

“Every single time,” He smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear before pressing his lips gently to her forehead. “We have a lot ahead of us, Valencia Chiara.”

“Oh do we now, Everett Ernest?”

“We do,” He winked, tugging her closer. “And I love you.”

She would never tire of those words coming from him. Nor would she tire of saying them back.

“I love you too,” She whispered, leaning up on her toes to meet his lips with her own. “So much.”

They stood there a few moments longer, holding each other closely while savoring the last few moments of quiet before chaos would ultimately descend on Thorpe Abbotts. Peaceful in each other's arms, safe together. Until Red Bowman’s voice was booming over the tannoy. Again.

JAMES DOUGLASS! BED NOW!

Val stood, face pressed against Everett’s chest as they stood there cuddling. The giggle bubbling in her chest burst free in one loud cackle as Olive and Dougie came skidding around the side of the hut, laughing like school kids. She hoped that no matter what, the playfulness that they all shared would always find its way back to them after touching back down on the ground after each flight. Oh, how she loved it so.

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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