#harry crosby x oc

[softspeirs]

for the prompt: stress or caffeine ~or both~

A/N: Friend, you asked for this so long ago. I'm so sorry! You also asked for Crosby - this is my first time writing for him and it's a platonic relationship, I hope that's okay.

"Will you check on Croz?" Jack Kidd catches Grace Fleming in the infirmary before her shift is over.

"I'm a little busy, Major, but I'll see if I can track him down. Any idea where he might be?"

"He's still in his office."

That gives Grace pause. "Still?"

Kidd's hands are on his hips and he gives her a look as if to say see what I'm saying? Jack gives Croz a hard time, but the two of them have been here together since the beginning, and she knows they have a bond that's hard to find anymore.

"I'll see what I can do." Grace concedes, smiling at the worried Major.

"He hasn't been sleeping. I just--" He runs a hand through his hair, "He's putting too much pressure on himself."

Grace finds Crosby at his desk, a steaming cup of coffee next to him. She doesn't have much reason to worry yet, but she knocks on the doorframe to get his attention anyway.

He looks up, startled. "Lieutenant." He says, an exhausted smile on his face. "Almost gave me a fright."

"That's Captain to you, now." She says, a little haughtily, her own grin overtaking her features.

"I'll be damned. Congratulations, Grace."

"Thank you, Harry." She takes a few steps closer, and sits in the spare chair next to his desk without asking. "I've been hearing some rumblings." She says, gauging his reaction.

"Oh?" He's back at his maps, pencil tucked behind his left ear. "Anything useful?"

"More worried chatter about everyone running themselves into the ground before the next big one." She says it as if the "b" and "o" are capitalized. He raises his eyebrow - probably suspects some of the rumblings she's been hearing are from Rosie, and that she shouldn't really know anything about it.

"Between you and me, Captain, this is a big one. Everyone's working hard."

Grace hums. She wonders if she should even be in here, though who's she going to tell, anyway? Even so, something in her keeps her from glancing too hard at his maps to figure anything out. "Any advice for the stress?"

He chuckles. "Seems people should be asking you that, Gracie. Not me." He straightens, stretching his arms overhead. "I'd tell them to take a break so their minds are right. It's too important."

Grace nods slowly, eyes back on the heavy bags underneath Crosby's eyes. "Don't suppose you'd take your own advice?"

He freezes, meeting her gaze with wary suspicion. "Starting to think someone put you up to this visit, Captain."

Grace shrugs.

She's seen Harry Crosby evolve over the last few months, and she has no desire to put him on bedrest or anything else drastic, but she has worried about him. Ever since Bubbles Payne-- well, ever since all of it, really, he's been throwing himself into his work more than anyone.

He sits back so the chair tilts dangerously. He wipes a hand over his face. "I'm fine, Grace."

"You know, everyone always tells me that."

"Then it must be true."

"Or everyone around here has gotten really good at lying." She scoots a little closer. "I worry you're not getting enough rest. I know you're busy, but you have to take care of yourself."

"I'm fine." He says firmly. His eyes are dark and wide, begging him to believe her.

Something tells her that every working moment for him for months has been to try, somehow, to make up for all the losses. He thinks that if he works himself to death, he can at least keep everyone else alive.

"Fine." Grace concedes. "If you need something to help you sleep rather than keep you awake--" He at least has the decency to look sheepish, at that, "-- let me know."

She's halfway out the door when she hears his voice, uncharacteristically quiet. "Thank you, Grace."

.

When Harry wakes up days after the landings have already happened, his first instinct is to panic, and then he feels the frustration and disappointment all at once at the thought that he just slept through the biggest invasion the world has ever seen.

When Rosie is finished laughing at him, Harry sits heavily down at the edge of his cot.

"Did we-- did it--"

"Yeah, Croz. They did it."

Harry lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I can't believe I slept through it."

"You passed out, literally."

"But why didn't anyone just let me get a few winks and then wake me? I had so much to do!"

"You did it all, Croz. I've never seen anyone more prepared than you were for that mission."

Harry shakes his head. "This was Grace, wasn't it? Her orders-- she--"

Rosie's eyes have gone a little flinty, and he shakes his head slowly. "Easy, Harry."

Rosie, ever jovial and friendly with Harry, doesn't give anything away, but Harry realizes his mistake and treads lightly.

"I just-- she came to see me a few days before. Tried to convince me to take a break."

Rosie is still giving him a wary look, arms crossed over his chest. "Seems she was right."

"I better go grovel."

Harry finds her in the hospital, a clipboard in one hand as she talks with three other nurses. She sees him out of the corner of her eye, and excuses herself.

"What are you doing out of bed?"

"Jeez, Captain. Give me a second before I get in trouble again?" He smiles, trying to let her know he's alright. "I owe you an apology, Grace."

She rolls her eyes. Gesturing for him to follow her outside, away from prying ears and eyes. They sit on a bench nearby, and she straightens her skirt. "Go on with that apology..." She says, looking out onto the airfield.

"I didn't mean to..." Harry says, trailing off, unsure of himself.

"To... ignore my advice? To take so many pills you didn't sleep for three nights? To keel over in the middle of the day and almost crack open that thick skull of yours?"

They're both quiet for so long, Grace starts to worry that she's actually overstepped.

Then he starts to laugh. It's the first real laugh she's heard out of him, out of anyone in... weeks? Months?

"Now I know you've lost it." Grace mutters, but she can't help her grin either, a giggle escaping her.

He leans towards her, bumping their shoulders together. "Thank you, Grace. I think I need some tough love once in awhile."

Grace makes a sound of agreement. "Next time I won't be so nice about it, Croz." She turns to face him. "You're one of our best. We can't afford to have you out of action. Not when our boys are going up."

She thinks of Rosie, still flying missions far past his twenty-fifth. Her heart clenches, but she forces it down.

He's one of the best, and so is Harry Crosby. As long as The 100th has them, they'll live to see the end of this war.

She's sure of it.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Chapter two: Bike Rides and Turning Tides

Harry Crosby x Maggie Reid / Ken Lemmons x Maggie Reid

Series Masterlist

This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.

Summary: As Maggie is still trying to figure out what Ken and Harry mean to her, she realises who is there for her when she really needs them.

Collab with @georgieluz

July 4th 1943, Thorpe Abbot AAF base, 07:00

"Tell me everything," Mads threw herself down into the wooden chair on the opposite side of the table, her coffee steaming in front of her as she waited expectantly. "You avoided me all day yesterday, but I hear you were out on the hard stand with Ken all morning." She winked cheekily at her.

"There's nothing to tell," Maggie sighed, pushing her mushy, scrambled egg around on the plate in front of her. All morning Tatty, Helen and Mads had been quizzing her on her 'date' with Harry Crosby.

"Honestly, nothing happened. Harry just happened to be there, we had a nice chat, he walked me home. Then Ken showed up with flowers and a wrench, and then he left. So yes, nothing happened."

Mads looked a little disappointed running her index finger around the top of her mug before a new idea popped into her head. "But you wanted something to happen, right? I mean you like them right?"

"I don't know, Mads," Maggie groaned, she loved her friend's enthusiasm but right now it was just too much. Her mind was too preoccupied with the thoughts of two different men that Mad's chaotic behaviour was not helping.

"What are we talking about?" Archie and Jimmy appeared behind her, Archie bent over pressing a kiss to her temple as he sat down, stealing a piece of toast off Maggie's plate and biting into it.

"We're discussing Maggie's love life but she's giving me nothing," Mad's pouted.

"Like I said, there's nothing to tell," Maggie corrected her.

"So Harry Crosby truly was a gentleman then," Archie mused, finishing the piece of toast before he took a long swig of his coffee.

"Yes, but there wasn't just Harry. Lovely little Ken Lemmons was waiting outside our hut for her all night with a wrench and some primroses," Mads added, ignoring the glare Maggie sent her way.

"Ken Lemmons hey, who would have thought it, and primroses too. They're your favourites, right Maggie?" Jimmy added, winking at Archie.

Maggie glared at him. Of course, those two had something to do with this. The mischievous smile on their faces instantly gave them away as the culprits.

"They are actually," she replied nonchalantly, trying to ignore the two smirking faces in front of her. Instead, her eyes trailed upwards, catching those of a certain navigator who waved shyly at her across the mess hall.

She waved back, ignoring her friends who spun frantically around in their seats to see who she was waving at.

"Crosby!" The three exclaimed, turning back quickly as a few eyes, including Harry's glanced over.

Maggie's face grew redder as she felt Harry's eyes still on her, she wanted to look back over but then she knew she'd be blushing even more. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest as a pair of legs appeared out of the corner of her eye.

"Good morning, Crosby. Did you sleep well?" Archie asked cheerfully, sipping his fresh cup of coffee with a wide smile. Mads leant back in her chair beside him, smiling sweetly.

"Yes I-I did… thank you," Harry stumbled over his words, eyes trained on Maggie who plucked up the courage to send him a small smile. Harry looked so happy that the crushing guilt began to grow in her chest. Why had she expected the flowers from Ken? She'd had such a lovely evening with Harry, but then Ken…

"Isn't that right, Maggie?" Archie asked, sending a knowing look her way as she felt three pairs of eyes on her.

"Umm… yes, yes of course," she replied, absolutely oblivious to what she was agreeing to, but from the three smiling faces looking at her it must have been the right answer.

"Excellent, I still have the bikes from last night so feel free to borrow those," Archie declared, standing up and dragging Mads and Jimmy up beside him. "Come on Madison, let's leave these two to their fun day of activities."

Mads and Jimmy nodded, following after Archie but not before turning to give Maggie a 'thumbs up'. Maggie made it her mission to scold her when she next saw the nurse, but Harry quickly took the seat that Mads had occupied.

"I hope that's okay with you…b-because if not I can…” Harry began rambling but Maggie grabbed his hand, stopping the blushing navigator mid-sentence.

"Harry, I'm sure it's fine but I maybe…sort of…did zone out and I'm not entirely sure what I've volunteered for," she admitted, biting her lip anxiously while Harry's face relaxed and he chuckled.

"You've volunteered to take me out on a bicycle ride," he smiled cheerfully, "and a picnic."

Harry seemed awfully pleased with himself and Maggie could find it in her to tell him she had a lot of work to get through today.

"Of course, I'd be happy to. How about you arrange the picnic and I'll grab the bikes?" She asked hopefully, shovelling in the last of the powdered eggs on her plate.

"Yes, yes of course….absolutely…I'll," Harry stumbled backwards away from his chair, catching himself before he fell. "I'll get right on that… Yes, I will." His cheeks glowed bright red and Maggie couldn't help the smile growing on her lips as she watched him hurry away on his important mission.

Finishing her coffee, Maggie glanced down at her overalls, noticing the dark oil stains and rips in the fabric. She couldn't go out with Harry looking like this. What would people say?

Pushing herself hastily away from the table, she rushed from the mess hall, hurrying back towards the Red Cross hut, praying that either Tatty or Helen would still be there to help her. She wasn't sure why she was so worried. The first time she'd met Harry she'd fallen on her arse, flailing around on the floor in her overalls, but somehow this time was different. This time she wanted to impress her.

Her boots hammered at the Nissan but steps as she threw open the door, startling Helen and Tatty who were sitting on their beds, chatting quietly,

"Girls!" She exclaimed, "I need your help."

Thorpe Abbotts Base AAF Sector, 09:00

Maggie, tugged at the blue shirt that seemed to stick to her body, praying that she wasn't sweating through the thin material. She'd opted for a shirt and thin summer trousers after the fiasco with her dress last time she ridden the bike. Helen and Tatty had helped style her hair, pinning the front parts of her hair neatly, while her remaining curls hung loosely at her shoulders.

She waited anxiously, checking her watch for the fourth time in a few minutes. Maggie knew she hadn't set an exact time to meet Harry but the apprehension only grew and she began to chew at her cheek.

A dark-haired figure appeared from behind one of the Nissen huts, a wide smile on his face and a wicker basket underneath his arm. He waved excitedly at her, tripping over but managing to save himself before he hit the ground. Maggie gasped, hurrying forward but he recovered, cheeks a little redder but still smiling nonetheless.

"Sorry I'm late, Bubbles was drilling me about the other night," he admitted, placing the basket down beside him, "Don't worry, I didn't tell him too much."

Maggie laughed, leaning back against the bikes, "I do hope so, Harry. I can't have the whole of the Eighth Air Force knowing all my secrets."

"Duly noted," Harry saluted her, allowing his eyes to trail over her. "Maggie, you look… wow you look amazing," Harry breathed as he reached her. His dark eyes shone brightly and his cheeks crinkled as he smiled.

"Thank you," Maggie blushed, pulling at the sleeves of the shirt Helen had lent her. It wasn't normally her style, but then again her style mainly consisted of overalls, or corduroy trousers and boots back home.

The pair watched each other nervously, neither too sure what to say next before they both spoke in unison.

"We should…"

"Shall we…"

Harry chuckled, "Shall we go?"

Maggie nodded, pushing one of the bikes towards Harry so he could secure the picnic basket on the back, before climbing into the saddle.

"So, do you know the area well?" He asked, pushing down the pedals shakily and pulling onto the gravel road beside her.

"Well enough," she mused, pushing her bike ahead of his, "Keep up, Crosby, I don't want you lagging".

The chains in the bike creaked as Maggie's feet came in contact with the pedals, her boots pushing them forward as the rickety metal frame began to move. She couldn't vouch for the safety of this bike, especially considering Archie was just borrowing them, but she appreciated the sentiment and the fact that they didn't have to walk.

Harry grinned cheerfully beside her, his legs slowly pushing the bike forward down the tarmacked road leading out of the base. Maggie was glad that she had chosen to wear trousers instead of a dress after her last mishap with a bike resulting in her blue dress being stained with oil.

Maggie couldn't help but chuckle, watching as Harry threw his head back, allowing the sun to cast its glow over his handsome features, his eyes shining brightly as he glanced over at her.

They neared the exit to the base, turning right and following the road away from the village and towards the lush, open green landscape. The viridescent fields and hills roll by calmly.

Maggie pushed herself forward, keeping up with Harry easily.

"You enjoying the view," she jested, watching as Harry's cheeks grew a dark crimson and he glanced away. "I don't mind if you are, just nice to know."

Harry cleared his throat, "Well, maybe I do like the view actually," he admitted rather sheepishly, meeting his gaze for a few seconds.

"Good," she declared, "Maybe you'll enjoy the view as you eat my dust." She took off down the road, legs pedalling faster than before as the bike carried her swiftly away. She cheered and whooped, ignoring Harry's shouts of protest from behind her as he trailed along, bringing up the rear.

Maggie continued to cycle on, following the winding road down around the perimeter of the base, until the road forked over the river and she stopped at the small stone bridge. Harry appeared from around the bend, his legs pedalling faster than ever as he came to a screeching halt before her.

"Well," Harry sighed, catching his breath with a chuckle, "You sure did give me a run for my money."

Maggie laughed, "Never underestimate an English girl, Croz," she pointed her finger at his chest and he raised his hands in mock surrender.

"I would never."

The afternoon trundled on and Maggie finally found the spot she was looking for beside the river. It's where the river bent around an old tree, following either side of it on its path towards the sea.

She dropped her bike down on the grassy verge, flopping down beside it with a sigh. Harry followed suit, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as the hot summer sun began to get to him.

"What's Iowa like, Harry?" Maggie asked, picking at the grass beside her leg as she glanced at him.

Harry smiled fondly, "Well it's generally pretty cold in the winter, it snows but it's not too heavy. The summers are my favourite, hot and humid and you have really long summer evenings. The summer evenings are my favourite. It's normally around mid-eighties Fahrenheit."

Maggie chuckled, "You Yanks and your Fahrenheit."

Harry shook his head, "Sorry, it's just the measurements I know." He waited a minute before continuing his story about Iowa. Maggie loved how passionately he talked about his home, she'd never travelled more than four hours from where she was born and yet many of the young men on base were hundreds of miles from theirs.

Harry paused for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "The State's flag has an eagle on it."

He seemed rather chuffed about that particular fact and Maggie laughed, enjoying his boyish behaviour.

"Well if I'm ever in a quiz about the State of Iowa I have a pretty good chance of winning," she laughed, causing Harry to blush, ducking his head down in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I know I reeled off a lot, it's just things that are familiar to me and…"

"No not at all," she interrupted him, "No I like hearing about your home. I can't even imagine what it must be like to be so far from your home. I'd love to visit the States someday," she mumbled, tugging absentmindedly at the sleeve of the shirt, "I just can't imagine travelling so far."

"Maybe one day I could take you there, to Iowa I mean. You could come to visit," Harry suggested a nervous smile on his lips.

Maggie smiled, "I don't know about that, leaving England. I'd never even left Dorset until the war began, now I've been to a few more places but nothing too far," she admitted, suddenly feeling self-conscious that she hadn't had to brave the trip to a new country to help with the war effort. Even the Red Cross girls had come further than she had.

Harry, sensing her uncertainty, reached forward, grasping her hand in his, "Then maybe this could be your first big adventure."

Harry was right, nothing was stopping her from travelling to the States with Harry after the war. She didn't have to stay there if she didn't like it, and her family would always be here waiting for her.

"Alright Croz, you've got yourself a deal. If this war ever ends you owe me a trip to the States."

Harry laughed at her enthusiasm, "You've got yourself a deal."

All too soon the morning drew into afternoon, and the pair decided to head back, pedalling slowly along the deserted road. The summers sun still hung high in the sky, beating down onto their backs. Maggie was pleased that the shirt she had borrowed was thin and the wind blew through the fine material cooling her easily.

Cycling home was nowhere near as fun as when they'd flown down these roads earlier, and Maggie could see by the way Harry hung his head low that he felt the same. Back on base, everything was loud and demanding, but out here, just the two of them the world was soft and quiet. If only they could say here forever.

"We should do this again sometime," Maggie suggested as they turned up the gravel road, and through the gates back onto the air base. The sign to Thorpe Abbott hanging by the post, and they both nodded to the guard on the gate.

"I'd like that very much," Harry nodded enthusiastically, his smile a little brighter than the gloomy look on his face a few moments before. Maggie's heart swelled as she looked at him, his face crinkling as he grinned at her. There was something warm and safe about Harry Crosby, like she'd known him forever and knew that he'd look out for her. Maggie wasn't sure what it was but it made her smile at him in return.

"Then we will have to arrange it. My sister and I cycled all over the place when we were children."

"I'd like to meet your family someday, I-if you'd let me of course," he added nervously, "They seem like lovely people."

Maggie wasn't sure whether she wanted Harry to meet her family. Life at home was so different from her life on base, here she was strong and independent but at home, she was back beneath the shadow of her perfect sister.

"Sure, maybe one day," Maggie replied vaguely, hoping the answer would settle Harry for the time being.

Pulling up their bikes beside the RAF Nissen hut and propping them against the wall, Maggie noticed a familiar figure watching them.

Ken sat on the bench across the field, fiddling with some spare parts on the table with Billy and Sammy. The two boys spotted Maggie, waving frantically and calling them over. Ken sent her a cold smile and Maggie couldn't help but feel out of place joining their peaceful moment. Harry walked beside her, grinning happily at Ken who greeted them indifferently, his voice low.

"Maggie. Lieutenant Crosby," he nodded, his eyes never leaving the motor he was tinkering with.

"Lemmons," Harry greeted him somewhat smugly and Maggie wondered if there was some unspoken conversation going on between them that she wasn't aware of.

"Maggie, did you go on a bike ride?" Billy asked, squeezing in between Maggie and Harry and looking up at her excitedly.

"I sure did, kiddo. We went on a little tour of the countryside, gotta show Harry here was England's all about."

The two boys nodded enthusiastically and Sammy moved around to join Maggie, both of them wrapping their arms around her to which Maggie did the same. She couldn't help but smile at their affection, but glancing up she noticed Harry and Ken watching her, both with soft expressions and round eyes that made Maggie feel slightly uncomfortable. She coughed, bringing them back to attention and Ken bent his head down, collecting his tools that were littered across the table.

"I should probably be heading back to the handstand, gotta finish up over there," he mumbled, never once looking in Maggie's direction. She couldn't help the guilt that brewed inside her as she watched him and the two boys go all away. How could she do this to Ken? But then again they were just friends, right?

It was strange really. When Maggie was with Harry she felt jovial, and carefree, like she could laugh forever, and she was happy when she was in Harry's presence. Then Ken came along, he was soft, quiet, and gentle and Maggie felt her heart rate increase for a completely different reason. She didn't know what she was feeling, but her heart felt more conflicted than it had the other evening.

Harry stirred beside her, leaning a little closer than he had before and tentatively wrapped his arm around her shoulder. For a moment Maggie froze, shoulders stiffening under Harry's touch but the warmth she felt from him quickly soothed her nerves. She leant into his touch smiling up at him. A pink blush was spreading across his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned a little red.

"I had a nice time today, Maggie," Harry spoke quietly, his lips seemingly moving in slow motion as Maggie processed his words.

"I had a nice time today too," she assured him, "but I'm still better at riding a bike than you, you're like an old man on that bike."

Harry chuckled, shoving Maggie's shoulder lightly, "All right you little Spitfire."

Maggie grinned at the nickname and Harry quickly interjected, "I know you're a Lancaster mechanic but geewiz you were quick down those lanes."

"No, no it's okay," Maggie turned so she could face Harry better, her hand coming to rest on his own, "No, I like the nickname."

Harry's nervousness from earlier disappeared, and he reached out, brushing a loose blonde lock that had blown across Maggie's face. "Good," he mumbled, his eyes looking down at her and Maggie could feel the heat growing in her cheeks. Maggie could feel Harry leaning forward, his breath fanning across her face. This was the closest they had ever been and…

"Maggie?" Jimmy called out, jogging over to the couple with his toolbox in hand. "I'm really sorry to break up whatever's going on here," his eyes darting between the two before he continued, "But Maggie I really need your help. The boys have a mission tonight and we've got a problem with our lead bomber."

Maggie shot up from her seat, dropping Harry's hand a little harsher than she would have liked. She watched as his face fell and she leant forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Harry but I have to go," she couldn't decide whether the interruption of their almost kiss was a good thing or not, but she pushed it from her mind.

Harry nodded quickly, the small smile returning to his face, "No not at all, don't worry. I'll see you later."

Maggie turned, quickly falling into step beside Jimmy. She wasn't sure whether she should have glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Harry or not, but her eyes remained focused ahead of her.

Jimmy could sense the tension around the situation and nudged into her shoulder, "Now it's none of my business and I don't know what I just interrupted, but you should know that Ken Lemmons's kid came around asking for you today. Came over to the handstand. I told him you weren't there and would be back later, then he stayed another hour or so playing with June. She's really taken a shine to him and you know dogs are a good judge of character."

Maggie turned, "You're right, Jimmy it isn't any of your business," she snapped, watching as her friend's eyebrows raised and his lips set in a thin line.

"As you wish," he began walking in the direction of the handstand, not glancing back to see if she was following. Jimmy was one of her best friends and despite their stressful jobs she'd never once snapped at him.

"Jimmy, wait. I'm sorry," she ran after him, grabbing his arm so he couldn't keep walking away from her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I just…" She sighed, tugging her fingers through her blonde curls, "I just don't know what to do".

It was true, she didn't know what to do. All of a sudden two men were showing great interest in her, seemingly aware of each other and yet they still wanted to be around her. She wasn't sure which was worse, having no men interested in her or having two at the same time.

"It's no big deal," Jimmy shrugged, throwing his arm around Maggie's shoulders and pulling her after him. "Now were not placing bets or anything, but my money's on Kenny boy."

Maggie snorted, shoving him dramatically, "You are no help at all, Jimmy."

"Well, the boys got my vote."

And just like that, everything was back to normal, at least for Jimmy it was. He whistled the rest of the way to the handstand, swinging his toolbox as he went. Maggie remained quiet, her mind too preoccupied to join in with the tune. Every time she thought of the lovely day she'd had with Harry she saw Kenny's disappointed face smiling sadly back at her. The sooner the job on the bombers was done, the sooner she could go and find him. She had to talk to him, to explain herself in some way and…well she didn't know what to do after that, but she had to do something.

Thorpe Abbott base RAF sector, 19:00

"Are 'The Girls' airworthy?" Archie asked, swinging his bag onto his back as he sauntered towards his bomber. His flying jacket hung loosely on his arm and he looked like a poster boy for the RAF.

Maggie smiled, "She's as airworthy as she can be after the beatings you keep giving her, but she'll get you there and back if you treat her right."

Archie nodded, watching as his copilot, Murray, hoisted himself up into the fuselage, "Well, then I know she'll be fine."

Maggie nodded, throwing her arms around Archie's shoulders, "Just be safe okay? I don't want to find out you did something stupid and got yourself killed."

"I promise, nothing stupid Mags," he pressed his lips to her forehead, holding her close for a moment longer before he pulled away. This was the same ritual they had for every mission Archie had flown since they met, and so far it had worked.

Pulling away Maggie cupped his cheek tenderly, "You know you're a real pain in the ass sometimes, but I wouldn't trade you for anyone."

Archie grinned, squeezing Maggie's hand, "I'll be back before you know it." He stepped away, turning and heading to the plane before Maggie could say anything else, before she could protest, begging him not to go. He knew she wanted to and he couldn't blame her, but this was war, it's what he came here to do.

Maggie remained frozen to the spot, unable to move until Archie was back on the hard stand. She hated mission nights more than anything else that this wretched war had thrown at her, mission nights were the worst. She could never settle, could never sleep. Some of the other ground crew would try and catch a few hours shut eye until the siren went off to announce the bomber's arrival back home, but Maggie couldn't bring herself to leave.

She found her usual seat on the nearby stack of crates, settling herself in for a long night. June curled up on the lower crate beside her, nuzzling into Maggie's flight jacket that she'd laid out for the spaniel. Despite the warm afternoon weather, the nights were still cool in July and Maggie knew she'd grow to regret not having her jacket on, but how could she leave June without something soft to lie on?

The Lancaster's began to roar to life, pulling off the hard stand and out onto the runway. Archie saluted her through the small cockpit window as his plane pulled away, she saluted back, a large lump forming in her throat.

Before the tears could begin to fall, a coat was pulled around her shoulders causing Maggie to jump, before she noticed Ken looking down at her, a soft smile on his lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's okay," Maggie replied, her voice thick with emotion. She couldn't bring herself to let her voice grow any louder.

"Thought you could use some company."

Maggie nodded, "Thanks Ken." She patted the crate, and Ken wriggled in closely, stroking June's head to which the little spaniel wagged her tail, beating it against the crate beneath her.

The Lancasters were at the end of the runway, lifting off into the sky one at a time. The sun was setting now, the blues of the day drifting into purples and pinks before the fiery orange spread across the landscape. The planes creating dark silhouettes against the terracotta sky. It felt like a bad omen, as if the planes were doomed to go up in flames, but Maggie tried to push the thought away. As they disappeared into the distance the airfield grew quiet, the rumble of the plane's engines disappearing leaving everyone waiting with baited breath for their return.

The hours seemed to pass so slowly that Maggie had begun to wonder if time was frozen until the sun had completely set and the sky grew dark. At some point in the silence, Ken had wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer when she shivered at the night's harsh breeze.

June whined sadly, scratching at Ken's leg until he lifted her, placing her onto Maggie's lap.

"It's okay June, Uncle Archie will be back. He always comes back to us," Maggie reassure her and the spaniel looked up, her brown eyes looking sadly at her.

"How long have you known Archie?" Ken asked, leaning his head against Maggie's, his hand rubbing small circles on her back.

The blonde thought for a moment, a smile forming on her lips as she spoke, "Just over a year. We became friends almost instantly. He's all I had for a long time."

Ken nodded, his lips forming a smile as he looked down at the girl in his arms. He wasn't sure what he was doing. Something just seemed to draw him to Maggie, and despite her obvious friendship with Harry, he couldn't help himself. Her head lay gently against his shoulder, her blonde hair fanning over his chest.

Maggie glanced up at Ken, their faces just inches away as she spoke and Ken could feel her breath on his face. "About earlier…with Harry, I mean…it's…it's not what…"

"Hey, shhh shhh, you don't have to explain anything. There's nothing to explain," he pressed his head against hers, nearly pressing his lips to her forehead. The closeness they shared was the most intimate moment that Maggie had ever felt, maybe even more intimate than her almost kiss with Harry that she tried to push from her mind. It didn't seem right, not like it did with Ken. Maggie's heart felt heavy as she snuggled further into Ken's arms. Why did emotions have to be so complicated?

"You don't have to wait out here with me all night if you don't want to. I'm used to waiting on my own, except June of course," Maggie added, her blue eyes drifting up to meet his.

Ken shook his head, "No it's alright. I want to stay with you…if that's okay with you of course," Ken added, scratching the back of his neck.

Maggie lifted her arm, running her finger over his cheek, turning his head to look at her, "Of course, I do, Ken. It's nice to have some company."

"Good," Ken pulled her close, ensuring his jacket was tightly wrapped around Maggie's shoulders, June shuffled up closer to benefit from the warmth of the jacket. "I'm not going anywhere."

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @vera-keller @blueberry-ovaries

[jointherebellion215]

Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly. 

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?” 

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands. 

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.”  You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.” 

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely. 

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her. 

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her. 

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd. 

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you. 

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile…. 

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.” 

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over. 

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love” 

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base. 

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred. 

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

[obrowne21]

ʙᴀʙʏ ɪ’ᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ

Chapter 2 - “Hates the Perfect Word”

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“Don’t stay out here too late, Baby.”

Sergeant Ken Lemmons was only partly joking with Baby when he said this to her. However over the three weeks of getting to know the stubborn blonde, he realized it wasn’t so far fetched for her to lose track of time.

And that would be proven correct as Baby was still out on the Airstrip, working away. She found it difficult to leave seeing as the view was so beautiful. The sunset painted the sky a warm orange and pink tone. A calm breeze briefly passed her, ruffling the tall grass, the trees, and even the bottom of her dress as it did so.

Sighing, she found a comfortable spot on a nearby crate. Busying herself by screwing two engine pieces together with a basic rod. The action was done smoothly like muscle memory.

A loud sound of an engine and the screech of tires had broken her peaceful state. Internally rolling her eyes, Baby prepared herself.

That could mean only one thing.

The jeep made a rough stop in front of her causing her to look up at the person responsible for the interruption.

Major John ‘Bucky’ Egan.

Even the thought of his name sparked annoyance in Delilah. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him that was so infuriating.

Maybe it was the way he walked around base like he was the king of the world. He had everybody under his spell, especially her brother Gale. She couldn’t understand how the two had ever became friends.

Or maybe it was how he would sometimes get caught looking at her but would never say anything.

It was like a game of tug of war. Always giving her signs of interest but then taking it back as if he physically and mentally couldn’t bring himself to go there with her. Like something was stopping him, more like someone.

She had a pretty good idea of who.

“A little birdy told me you were out here.” Leaning back in his seat, Bucky faced the woman.

Delilah, uninterested, gave him a nod before focusing back onto her work. “Never really liked birds.”

“Sad to hear that. They’re real fascinating creatures. I’m more of a unicorn guy myself-”

“I bet you are.”

After a beat of silence, Delilah glanced up to see him staring at her once again. It could’ve been because she had just rudely interrupted him but by the way the corner of his mouth twitched into his signature smirk made her think differently.

His eyes held nothing but admiration as he kept his gaze on her. The way she smoothly worked away like it was her second nature was wildly attractive. Not to mention the quick wits that shamelessly left her pretty mouth, which instead of feeling insulted he would always feel more amazed by her.

“Gale send you out here?”

“No.”

“So tell me…Major Bucky,” The name rolled off her tongue as a taunt. Placing the tool and engine piece down beside her, she leaned back onto her hands. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being in your presence?”

Bucky watched as she seductively crossed her legs and tilted her head awaiting for an answer. The reminder that she was his best friends little sister kept blaring in the back of his mind. But it was so damn hard to listen to.

“Maybe I just want to be in yours.” Copying her action, Bucky tilted his head. “You ever think of that?”

”It’s hard to when you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

He knew exactly what she referring to. Part of it was intentional but at the same time he really never knew how to approach her. Which was odd for him.

John Egan never struggled in talking to women. However he would always overthink with Delilah. She made him nervous, in a good way.

“Can’t say I know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” Bucky let out a nervous scoff knowing he had been called out.

The use of the nickname made Baby raise her eyebrows in surprise. “That’s a new one.”

“You like it?”

“I’m not sure yet.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been called many things, Major Bucky, but sweet has never been one of them.”

“What?” He dropped his jaw dramatically, pretended to be shocked. “You’re the sweetest.”

Bucky watched as she let out an adorable laugh as she threw her head back. A small wave of pride washed over him at the fact that he got her to smile, let alone talk to him for more than five seconds.

“If I’m sweet then you’re a good singer.” She playfully jutted.

“Oh,” He placed a hand on his heart. “You wound me, Baby. I’d have you know I’m an excellent singer.”

“A little birdy told me differently.”

Looking away Bucky chewed away on the piece of gum in his mouth. Damn, she was good.

“If this birdy happens to be tall, boring, and has a head full of blonde hair on his head than you should ignore him and come see for yourself.”

Delilah laughed not taking him seriously. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious.” He said. Eyes connecting with her honey brown ones. “There’s a dance, day after tomorrow. Come and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Might skip out on this one.” She declined.

Nodding Bucky looked down. An idea popped into his head that might change her mind. “Huh, guess you Clevens are more alike than you want to admit.”

If there was anything he learned from witnessing the Cleven sibling duo was that they both were complete opposites. Buck was more serious, rule follower, and never really liked to do anything risky.

And although he didn’t talk to Delilah much, he would notice how she liked to do things in an untraditional way. Her presence here as one of the first female mechanics proves that. She also loved to make fun out of most situations. A small joke was always at the tip of her tongue and she could never keep it there.

He’d like to bet she loved to dance too.

Picking up the tool beside her she pointed it at Bucky with an annoyed glare. “Take that back right now.”

Bingo.

“Makes sense.” He shrugged his shoulders innocently. “Guess the ‘never have a good time’ genes got passed down to both of ya.”

“I can have a good time.” She rebutted.

Bucky nodded, not really convinced at all. “Okay.”

A moment of silence passed as Bucky continued to poke fun at Delilah as she thought over his words.

Letting go of her cheek, the one she was anxiously biting, Delilah sighed. “What times the stupid dance?”

A smile of victory took plastered across the Major's face as he mentally celebrated. “I’ll be there at 8:00, that’s when the real party starts.”

“Can’t wait.” She gave him a fake smile.

Taking a look around, they both knew that it was about to get dark soon and should head back.

Reaching over the passenger seat of the Jeep, Bucky propped open the door with one arm. “Hop in, sweetheart. I’ll give you a ride back.”

“I have a bike, you know?”

“That old thing?” Simultaneously the two turned to look at the bike leaning on the side of the crate she was sitting on.

“Yeah,” Delilah smiled proudly. It was one of the things she built on her own when she first got here. “Isn’t he pretty?”

“He?”

“Well you men always refer to your cars and planes as woman, so I’d thought I’d return the favor.”

As the blonde continued to admire her piece of work, Bucky’s gaze shifted to her. Taking in her smooth tan skin and pretty freckles that he’d like to individually kiss. And finally her full lips that were just calling his name.

He watched as she grabbed the handles of the bike and easily kicked her leg over to get on it. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Baby?”

“I’d rather ride a thousand miles on this old thang than one in there with you.”

He was left speechless as she petaled away without a second thought. The fact that her and a Buck were siblings was still a shock to him.

No matter how different the two were they both had something in common. The Clevens had captured John Egans heart. With a Buck it was respect and friendship. And with Delilah.

Oh, Delilah. He hadn’t even got to know her fully yet and she already had him hooked.

Snapping out of his trance he started the engine before catching up and riding along beside her. Now he was back to looking between the road and her pretty side profile.

“Still got you to go to the dance with me.” He gloated.

Once again, John Egan had managed to make her smile. Shaking her head she tried to petal faster but he would just match her speed. “I hate you!”

“Hates a strong word.”

“Hates the perfect word.”

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A/N : As y’all can tell I love a good slow burn. Hope y’all liked it! Let me know your thoughts on it please, I love to hear feedback.

ALSO DAYUM YALL REALLY CAME THREW WITH THE LIKES ON MY POSTS

Tag list(I can’t believe I have those now🤭):

@valenftcrush

@justheretoreadthhx

[xxanaduwrites]

much ado about nothing, major

i. bubbles & battle scars

gif creds @sakuragifs !

pairing: john “bucky” egan x (ofc) maude “blue” bluell

warnings: this story will contain mature themes, descriptions of injury, blood, sexual content, swearing, as well as, physical and mental illness. proceed with caution.

— i: mentions of injury, death, & puking. (pretty much just maude, bubbles, & croz being a dynamic trio, total bestie vibes — & then there’s john. he’s just there haha)

word count: 3.4k

there must be something or nothing at all

July 24, 1943 was the date — a date marked in the history books as the start of the Hamburg attacks, and in the journal of Nurse Maude Bluell, an inclusion of her very first introduction to one Major John Egan.

It was just past 0900 hours when the doors swung open to the infirmary rather unexpectedly. Bluell was organizing a new shipment of supplies, placing gauze, bandages, and wraps alike in their respective places, Lottie wa re-evaluating the health passes for the men who were flying today — confirming that they has passed inspection so to speak, and Q — well Q was reading newspaper cutouts of her favorite gossip columns, courtesy of her girlfriends back home. A red cherry sucker laid limply in her mouth as she took in the recent excepades of the Hollywood starlets she fawned over.

For Q, it was better for her to dive her nose into the latest gossip than worry about a certain Lieutenant she had tethered a liking too. A certain Lieutenant Curtis Biddick — "Curt" for short — who was scheduled to fly today. Q would deny the prospect of liking the New Yorker with the heavy accent, but it wasn't deniable to Lottie and Maude who had seen the Lieutenant saunter in every morning just to talk to her at the nurse's station. He used the need for a sucker to subside his "apparent" drops in blood sugar as his excuse of choice.

Lottie reprimanded her every time, claiming that they were only for the patients, not for the healthy airmen — hiding the sugary sweet lollipops from her colleague.

But, Lottie's attempts proved to be fruitless as Q would find them at every turn in every single hiding spot, opening a sucker of her own just to push Lottie's buttons.

And, she was doing that just now — not just to bother the blonde, but to also hold some sort of reminder of Biddick, that he was here with her as much as she was there with him — the cherry red sucker that mirrored the very same shade of her hair — tucked safely in the pocket of his flight uniform for a victory treat.

Alas — in other words — there wasn't much to do until their men came flooding back in waves.

Until there was.

The sound of a door swinging open broke the dead silence that pervaded the medical unit. The three women immediately dropped everything they were doing once they saw the sight of Colonel Harding sauntering in with Lieutenant Payne following suit — under the haven of a thick blanket, accompanied by the the arm of one of his fellow airmen.

Or well — Maude and Lottie did.

Susan was trying to consume the last line of the article in front of her as fast as she could. She didn't want to be left wondering what Bettie Davis was doing nowadays in the middle of assessing what was to come.

Lottie, being under the wing of Doctor Stover longer than the two nurses beside her, did not hesitate to meet Harding half way. "Good morning, Colonel'' she greeted, pressing her clip board of names close to her chest as a means of suppressing the shock of it all. It was rather unusual to see any of the airmen, let alone the Colonel until the conclusion of a mission, especially when every health pass had been confirmed and processed.

"Morning. Ladies," Harding replied to the three nurses present respectfully as he always did, curt, and to the point. "Lieutenant Payne is coming down with something and will no longer be navigating today's mission," he explained. "You ladies mind checking up on him?"

"Oh not at all, sir!" Lottie chirped, setting her clipboard down and immediately swinging into action. She nodded over at her colleagues, urging them to take the clearly pale and ill Lieutenant from the hold of the corporal present.

It didn't take long for Bluell and Q to get the Lieutenant situated and comfortable in a bed with brand new sheets — pressed and floral scented. Maude felt lucky and rather grateful that they had completed that task in time for such a situation to occur. Q was still quite busy with her cherry sucker while simultaneously taking the man's blood pressure, so Bluell decided to do the evaluating — not that she minded anyways. It was refreshing to see a man in front of her who wasn't bleeding out and barely coherent. She could already tell without really knowing that Payne would be just fine. That she wouldn't be losing another one of their men just yet, and that made the weight in her chest subside with the sweetest relief.

"Lieutenant Payne," Maude enunciated carefully, smiling fondly at the poor man in front of her. It was obvious from the sight in front of her that illness had racked his bones. The color was draining from his skin, a dull gray taking over, a line of sweat was creasing his brow, and his eyes drooped heavily doused with a glossy sheen. "Please, if you could tell me what seems to be going on. How are you feeling?"

"Well, quite shitty," he laughed dryly, yet a smile still managed to grace his features and prove to be rather contagious to Maude's expression  in seconds flat. "I was fine. I mean, I thought I was. 'Twas until I was propped up ready to fly, feeling like I could hurl if I even moved a muscle. Major Egan shut that down real quick though. Got me a sub with Croz."

And there it was, a title attached to the name of a man Maude Bluell would have scorched into the back of her mind soon enough. Yet, now – now in that very moment, her unfamiliarity with that very same man would simply fly over her head. Instead, she would find a tying point to her patient in the traces of his explanation, one that made her eyes light up in genuine interest. "Lieutenant Crosby?" She asked while dropping the back of her hand to Payne's forehead, inspecting the extent of his temperature."

"Yuh-huh," he nodded

At the same time as Q announced "one-nineteen over seventy," but it really sounded like, "nun-eye-dee ova even-yee," with that sucker still tucked dedicatedly in her mouth.

Maude's hand dropped from Payne's forehead then, seeming pleased to know that he wasn't burning up as bad as she expected – definitely warm but more mildly speaking – and his blood pressure was relatively normal. The wheels were already turning in her head, coming to the conclusion that he merely had some sort of bug. But, she couldn't really come to one until Doctor Stover came to access the man himself.

"Lemme guess," Payne began, getting Maude's attention after she instructed Q to get the Lieutenant a glass of water. If she got his prognosis right, he would need to remain hydrated to subside the urge to vomit. "He's here quite often ain't –" Payne's words seemed to lodge in his throat then, his features twisting just the same.

The clear indication of his illness brought Nurse Bluell to flight mode and she picked up the bucket adjacent to his bed in mere seconds. "Let it out, Lieutenant," she urged as she situated it on his lap just in time for him to spill out the contents into the bin instead of his bed. He did just that, and Bluell did not hesitate to keep the bucket steady and rub his back in a soothing motion, hoping to ease the strain in his back from achy muscles.

Once he was done, he slumped back against the headboard – his eyes appearing glossier than they had before. He was spent, but that did not stop him from mumbling out his appreciation. "Thank you Nurse – Nurse?" He trailed off, a crease forming on his sweaty forehead with a curious sort of confusion.

"Bluell. Nurse Bluell," she introduced herself, moving the bucket off the bed, tying up the old one, and replacing it with a brand new one. "But you can just call me Maude."

"Maude. The powerful battler," a droopy smile spanned across his face, recalling the meaning behind the name of the nurse in front of him.

"Yes, but –" her cheeks dusted pink, and she looked away from him as she got rid of the previous trash close by. "Not me. All you – All you boys."

"Doubt that." Q brought over the water then and he thanked her kindly before taking a gentle sip. "Call me Bubbles."

"Pardon, Lieutenant?" Bluell stood straight then, completely taken aback by his sudden admission. She took a deep breath and sucked back the urge to laugh.

It wasn't uncommon by any means for nicknames to be a staple pass of courtesy and comradely around base. It served as an attempt to distinguish the tension of a deeply set reality and also comouflague identity to foreign forces. Like Charolette and Susan who replied to Lottie and Susie Q or just plain old Q. It was common knowledge. And she had found herself giving into such knowledge as she adjusted to the shortened form of her surname — replying to Blue more often than not. But, Bubbles. Bubbles? She hadn't heard something quite like that before.

"Bubbles. That's what they call me. Ain't heroic by any means. You can ask Croz the next time he's here, 'M sure he'll tell yuh," he elaborated.

A chuckle escaped her then, a genuine smile enveloping in her cheeks in a way that almost felt foreign. She couldn't remember the last time she smiled – really smiled since she'd arrived on base. "Quite heroic to me,." She flattened her hands across the edges of the mattress, making sure he was tucked into the sheets comfortably and then she fluffed up the back of his pillow for me good measure. "Should rest up now, Lieutenant. I'll be here if you need anything. Please don't hesitate to call us over," She affirmed, and in a sudden newfound sense of confidence or maybe it was simply just the comradery, she found herself adding, "that's an order, Bubbles."

Bubbles – still poorly, shivering, and pale as a ghost – managed a light laugh from his strained throat as Maude left the man be. "You got it, Maude"

Maude's spirits appeared to be more pleasant than usual as she busied herself in the next coming hours. Her conversation with Lieutenant Payne – or Bubbles if you will – subsided the nerves that usually rattled her in deep anticipation of what was to come. However, knowing that Lieutenant Crosby was navigating today still kept her worried.

Would his stomach be okay?

Would the natural herbs she recommended to brew in his tea ease him?

Those thoughts did not fail to plague her mind throughout the day, but she was grateful to have some distraction in the task of caring for Bubbles. She made sure to keep an eye on him as much as she could, so much so, that it started to concern Nurse Charlotte Reign and Susan Quinn who felt as if previous patterns from the young nurse were resurfacing. Patterns that were brought into light the very same day an airmen died in her arms for the very first time.

Yet, Maude felt fine – well, as fine as one could be in the circumstances placed upon her. She felt like she could breathe again the moment the boys returned from the Trondheim mission in the later afternoon. It had proved to be successful – and even more so in the hands of one Lieutenant Crosby who was currently at Bubble's bedside. With a chair situated over, he not only came to check on his best friend, but also report on the mission.

Maude was finishing up wrapping a flier's burn wounds adjacent to Lieutenant Payne when she unintentionally overheard the conversation at hand. "I mean the flak, it came in so hot. I didn't even think about it when I put it on. It – It must of froze, but then these chunks, they start rolling down my forehead, I think 'holy mackerel crosby, holy mackerel, you've been hit!"

"Of course you would narrate your own death." Bubbles laughed lightly at his friend's retelling.

She secured the wrap tightly and comfortably and practically repeated the earlier lines she had said to Bubbles. She was starting to become more and more accustomed to her script, finding it more and more natural as she annunciated each word within passing days.

"Well, I mean I could make overthinking into an Olympic sport." Lieutenant Crosby joked just as Maude appeared at Bubbles bedside. She smiled at the two men, acknowledging them as she refilled Payne's water cup without interrupting their conversation.

"I've been puking so much today, I'm starting to catch up to you. Ask Maude." He nodded to the nurse next to them.

"Evening Maude." Crosby greeted the nurse. "Hope Bubbles here ain't giving you too much flak.”

"No more than you have." She just about pulled the man's chain with that one, making Bubbles erupt in laughter.

"Hey, 'snot my fault, Nurse." Crosby held a hand to his chest as if she had wounded him with his words, but the knowing smirk on his face proved otherwise.

"Did you try the tea?" She asked Croz, handing the cup of water over to Bubbles. His color was starting to come back. He looked better than this morning but he still needed to stay hydrated if he was gonna get back in the skies anytime soon.

"Nah. Next time when I actually know I'm flying I will," he sent a look over to Bubbles, only pushing his friend's buttons for fun. "Thanks Bubbles."

"Anytime." He said laughing against the rim of his cup. He took one last sip before Maude placed it back on the side table for him.

It seemed like Croz wasn't gonna let that one slide so easily. "You know I washed my hair twice, I still can't get the smell out." He leaned over his friend, practically shoving his hair in the fellow Lieutenant's face."You wanna smell? Yeah, jump in."

"No. No!" Bubbles tensed up then.

"Yeah, Come on." Croz pushed on.

Maude couldn't help but laugh at the playful side of these men. Men who still managed to let their inner kid shine through all the horror and terror they had ensued in the skies.

"Get – get away. I will puke on you! Yuh gonna have to wash it out." Bubbles threatened, trying to push Croz away.

And then like a burst of unexpected flax, everything shifted.

For not only Croz who immediately stiffened back in his seat – putting on a serious and professional front, but for Maude who – for lack of her own sense of understanding – found herself freezing just the same, but for a whole other reason.

"There he is," a deep, firm, yet some-what carefree voice broke the ice within her. And there he was, one Major Egan looking and sounding like one of those Hollywood starlets in Q's paper clipping — just stepping out of a film in the cinema. And if he hadn't had a small cut just under his right eye, he could have passed as a man who hadn't just returned from an intense mission across the skies. Clean cut, pressed in his uniform, curls styled and gelled back to perfection, with his flight jacket wrapped around his arms. Arms that held a strong hand planted against the edge of the foot of Bubbles bed. "How you doing Bubbles?" He asked.

Maude hadn't realized she was staring at the six foot two bulk of a man in front of her until Bubbles spoke up. "Never better, sir."

"That's good." And then his eyes landed on her, so intense, she suddenly wondered if he had become even taller than he was a minute ago. Feeling caught, she looked away and busied herself with the water cup on Bubbles nightstand to give herself something to do. Would the Major report back to Doctor Stover that she was incompetent and unfit to take care of his men? Lucky for Maude, his gaze broke away from hers the moment she turned around. "And I was looking for you," He said to Croz.

The chair beneath Croz creaked in protest as he stood up to be at the Major's level. "I'm sorry, Major."

"What for?" Major Egan inquired loosely.

"I – I didn't give PRs the whole flight back, I messed up the rendezvous – "

"I know. I know. The radio silence really threw off those Jerries. It's that and hitting the deck." Egan affirmed. With the conversation becoming more detailed, Maude felt out of place and rather rude for overhearing. Yet, the next words that came out of the Major's mouth not only took Croz and Bubbles by surprise, but Maude too. Any previous contemplations seemed to dissipate the moment Egan said, “Now, Harding, he couldn't be more impressed by you so, I'm transferring you to Blakely's crew full time," and then, " Bubbles, you get better, we'll find you a new fort. And Croz, we gotta give you an actual nickname."

"They call him Bing back home." Bubbles added into the conversation just as Maude urged him to take another sip. "More?" He asked, and she simply nodded as she turned back into her previous position– her view of all three men near her resurfacing.

"Bing Crosby? That's just lazy, unless you can sing." Major Egan put in his two cents, and his eyes gleamed when he asked, "Can you sing?"

"I–I ca –" Croz tethered.

"Like a donkey." Bubbles confirmed with zero ounces of hesitation, truly on a roll at deflating Croz's ego today without letting an ounce of illness ruin the fun.

"No, no – not a note, sir."

"Ah, I'm no good either, but I'm loud and hell if you can commit with enough enthusiasm, it really don't matter." And this was when Maude would come to learn of the singing shenanigans that came with one Major Egan. If only she knew then that those shenanigans would very well start up something alright.

The shorter Lieutenant and the taller Major clapped hands then in parting – a shake of sealed establishments and confirmations, proving that they were on the same page. "I'll see you at the Club Croz. I'm buying," the one with height told him, referring to the same exact club Lottie and Q would be dragging Bluell against her will in just a few short hours. "Goodnight Bubbles."

"Sir."He croaked between sips and finally handed the cup back to Maude for good.

"Goodnight, sir." Croz bid farewell. When the Major was out of earshot could Maude breathe, and Croz seemed to be too because he was back to bantering as he commented, "He thinks my nickname is lazy."

Another patient called her over then, stealing her away from the two men she had found herself laughing along with, yet a part of her felt grateful for the sudden diversion – especially now, after the Major's interruption. She couldn't explain it – couldn't even compartmentalize it exactly, but something had shifted inside her the moment he had stepped foot into the infirmary. An instinctive feeling of sorts — awfully hard to pinpoint. It hurt her head too much trying to think about it, so much so, she momentarily wondered if she was coming down with the same exact virus as Bubbles.

She wasn't.

But, she knew it was something, but what was it?

That — she didn't know.

Yet, something deep inside her – against her better judgment – told her that she needed to know. So as Croz passed by and bid her a farewell of his own, she knew what she had to do. And when the girls pitched going out to the Club again tonight, practically begging her in their shared quarters — Lottie using Q's obvious need for a distraction with Curt's lack of a return — did she give into their demise.

Was there really much ado about one night on the town?

Lottie and Q wouldn't think so, and Major Egan – well he wouldn't think so either.

the way in which she is already whipped without "knowing" is so real.

+ Q — curt and susie got me giggling & kicking my feeties !!!

also, for important context purposes, the gifs in the beginning is how i imagine bucky diverting his gaze from eyeing miss. maude ;) sir, we all know you were LOOKING — respectfully!

p.s.: i love bubbles & croz so bad, ugh my HEART <3

ANYWAYS.....

more to come sooner than you think. lemme know what ya think so far? feedback is much appreciated as this is BRAND NEW. this is also my very FIRST historical-esce fic so my apologies if there is any inaccuracies, but it do be my own fiction twist anyways haha.

love ya'll a mil, smoochies!

— xanadu

tag list:

@rubberpsyche

@precious-little-scoundrel

@major-mads

@luminouslywriting

@justheretoreadthxxs

@karmasloverrr

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 10

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 |-| Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

AO3

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

The room was silent, nothing but the sound of calm, steady breathing piercing the air, a single beam of sunlight stretching through a gap in the curtains, snaking across the bedsheets in a thin, golden ribbon. Frankie was sat up, hunched forward slightly, picking at a frayed edge of the blanket as she stared blankly down at the foot of the bed. Laid back against the pillows, Rosie watched her intently, his thumb rubbing slow, gentle circles against the skin of her back, poking up beneath the hem of her shirt.

The second floor of the village pub consisted entirely of various bedrooms, a makeshift bed and breakfast, intended to make money out of the encroaching military population. With the Nissen huts so strictly segregated, the place had become a popular haunt for anyone hoping for a little 'alone time'. They came often. He liked to sleep beside her the night before a mission - to hold her close for what could always be the last time, to sit and talk somewhere entirely alone. Rosie did his best to avoid thinking about what else might have taken place in this bed - for now, it was simply their refuge.

Twenty-five missions. It was an impressive credential, a staggering achievement considering the almost impossible odds every pilot faced when he took off each day. And with it came the ultimate prize - a ticket home. Any man among them would give a limb for the chance - to never have to go up again, to truly live a life back home with their family.

It felt almost criminal not to want it.

But how could he? How could he burn for home the way the others did, when she wouldn't be there? When twenty-five missions meant being an ocean apart from the woman next to him, twenty-five missions was a death sentence.

"I want you to do it," Frankie croaked, her voice strained and quiet. His palm flattened against her back, and with a sigh she lay back, hair fanning out against the pillow.

"What do you mean?" He asked, brow furrowed.

Her head lolled to the side, meeting his gaze. "When you make twenty-five. I want you to go home."

"... What?" Rosie swore he felt his stomach sink, nausea bubbling in his chest as it burrowed deep into his gut.

Frankie shrugged, the sheets rustling with the movement. "You deserve to see your family, Rosie. You deserve not to live in a place that smells like oil and shit, especially after everything you've done."

A deep frown tugged at his expression as he shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to get a better look at her face. There was nothing in her eyes but utter, uncompromising sincerity. "W-..." He paused a moment, waiting for his mind to stop racing long enough to form a sentence. "What about you?"

She smiled, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, and he couldn't help but lean into it, revelling in the feeling of warmth. "I'll catch you up when I'm done."

Rosie let out a huff of almost-laughter, flashing a disbelieving grin as he fought to fathom what she was saying. "Are you serious?"

A self-satisfied smirk had wormed its way across her face. "Why not?"

"You'd seriously come to America for me?"

"Well, I have always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty," Frankie teased, cutting herself off with a laugh as he fell forward, lips hastily colliding with hers, one hand finding her waist, the other clasping the back of her neck. Her arms snaked around his neck the way they always did, holding his head in place as she reciprocated the kiss, smiling against his lips.

He'd wanted to marry her then. It wasn't the first time the thought had occurred to him, nowhere near in fact, but he wasn't sure it had ever felt so strong. If he asked he knew she'd say no - she'd say they needed more time, that they needed to wait until this was all over. He understood. If something went wrong, if he didn't come back, he didn't want her to carry his name like a badge of un-belonging for the rest of her life. If he could give her anything in death, he wanted it to be a clean break.

The kiss ended, and she was beaming at him, combing a hand through his ungelled curls as he pressed his forehead against hers. She would have given anything to just stay there, tucked beneath the blankets, feeling his breath against her cheek. Every time he climbed into that cockpit, his plane disappearing into the clouds over the horizon, it was like she was preparing for his death already, readying her mind for the news if he ever didn't make it home. Each return was a momentary relief, but it never lasted long. This was the last hurdle, the last bridge to cross before he was home safe, and she could put that constant, nagging fear aside.

A hurried knock came hammering against the door, and a groan escaped Rosie's throat burying his face in the crook of her neck, the weight of his body preventing Frankie from being able to move. She let out a grunt, shoving at his shoulders. "Get up!" She chuckled, and he reluctantly rolled over, pushing himself up off the bed with a huff.

The floorboards creaked beneath his feet as he padded over to the door, prying it open only a few inches, his shoulders blocking the gap in the doorway and shielding Frankie from the view of whoever was outside. Pappy was already in uniform, foot tapping irritably against the floor as he answered. "Just checking, you do actually plan to fly your twenty-fifth, right?" He asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in a minute, just lemme get dressed," Rosie nodded, waving a hand of dismissal. Pappy didn't move, clearly waiting for him, and he began to frown as Rosie didn't move out of the doorway.

"Mornin', Frankie!" He called over Rosie's shoulder into the room behind him.

"Hey, Pappy!" Her voice rang out in return, and Rosie sighed, ignoring his friend's smirk as he closed the door on him.

"Y'know, it definitely would've looked weirder if you were just up here on your own," Frankie pointed out as Rosie began hurrying to grab his uniform and put it on. "That'd raise some questions."

It was later in the day than he'd thought, and he almost tugged his trousers on backwards in an attempt to get dressed as fast as possible, stuffing all of his belongings blindly into a bag as he raced to make his mission. Frankie was only half ready by the time he was done, and he pulled her attention away from the tying of her boot by capturing her lips in a quick goodbye kiss.

"Alright, I gotta go. I love you, I'll see you later."

His hand was already on the doorknob by the time he realised it. Turning his head, she was staring back at him. He'd never said those words before. In a million different ways he had made it abundantly clear that it was true, but this was the first time he'd truly looked her in the eye and said it.

"Yeah?" Frankie grinned.

"Oh, you have no idea," Rosie beamed, slipping out into the hall. Pappy was still waiting, a confused look contorting his expression as he noticed the red flush that filled his face. Making a beeline for the stairs, his copilot was close behind, the question lingering on the tip of his tongue.

"Are you... ok?"

Rosie reached the bottom of the stairs, turning back to look up at him, slightly out of breath. "Told my girl I love her. First time."

"Oh! Congrats?"

"Thanks, Pap," He nodded, clapping him on the shoulder, unable to tear away his grin.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It had been over an hour since the planes departed, and George and Frankie were sitting in the field that ran alongside the airstrip, propped up on their elbows as they lounged in the grass, sharing a bag of peanuts between them. The sun hung high and bright that day, and sunglasses rested on the bridges of their noses despite the slight chill in the air.

"So he told you he loved you," George nodded. "But you guys have been a thing for a while now, was that seriously the first time?"

"Nah. First time he'll remember, though - he says it a lot when he's drunk, but he's shy when he's sober."

She chuckled, red lips curling up in a smile. "Yunno, I always thought that guy was a bit of a weirdo, but you make me like him."

Frankie laughed, shaking her head. "God, you're a terrible person."

George gasped, head lolling to the side to look over at her friend. "Speaking of - you know Brenda? Red Cross Brenda? Well, apparently she-"

Before she got the chance to finish her sentence, Ken came bounding up, grinning like a lost puppy returned to its owner. "Heya!" He chirped, crouching down before the pair. It had become customary for the young mechanic to invade their conversations whenever he wasn't busy, eager for some company outside of his other sprightly, male colleagues. "What's goin' on?"

"Boooo!" George thundered at his intrusion, reaching for a fistful of peanuts and throwing them at him, a few pinging against his forehead.

"God, who invited you?" Frankie cried, her voice overlapping with George's. "Get your own friends!"

The hostilities were all in jest, the way a sister might poke fun at a brother, and neither woman objected as Lemmons wormed his way in between them, lifting their belongings out of the way to clear a space for him on the grass. Hands folded behind his head, he peered up at them, squinting in the sun. "So... what happened with Brenda?"

"Nuh-uh," George shook her head. "If you wanted to know you should've shown up on time. Those are the rules."

"There's rules now?"

"Obviously, we're not imbeciles," Frankie shrugged. "Get with the program or get fucked, Kenny."

"Jesus Christ."

"So, Ken, how's Fonda?" She asked, her voice taking on a singsong lilt, a teasing smirk curling her lip.

He let out a groan, folding his arms over his head so they couldn't see the red flush that had overtaken his face. "...She's good," After he wallowed in embarrassment for a moment, an indignant expression overtook him, and he bolted upright. "Hey, at least I'm married!"

"Yeah, at nineteen, 'cause that's normal," George snorted, fending him off as he tried to whack her over the head.

"I'm just sayin'! Frankie and Rosie gotta hurry it up a little, I think."

Frankie scoffed, throwing up her hands in surrender. "I... Actually, no, fuck off, I'm not going there with you - I'm sorry that I'm waiting to properly get to know the guy before I get hitched, ok?"

"Oh, she knows the guy, alright," George muttered, and Ken snorted a laugh, the pair letting out yelps as a fistful of peanuts collided with their heads.

"I'm content with my choices!" Frankie declared loudly, and the three of them stewed in silence for a moment before collectively descending into laughter, the sight of a dozen missed peanuts scattered in the grass only adding to the inexplicable hilarity.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was as if they'd almost forgotten what they were waiting for by the time the sound of faraway plane engines began to split the air, a familiar thrumming sound that sent an involuntary jolt of panic through Frankie whenever she heard it, her heart immediately pounding out of her chest as she leapt up, accidentally sticking a foot into the empty bag of nuts as she scrambled to her feet. She'd never felt quite like it, an equal mix of terror and elation flooding through her - fear that it might not be Rosie flying one of the returning buses, but delight at what it meant if he was.

Half of Thorpe Abbotts seemed to have turned up for his return, and Frankie almost burst into tears the moment 'Rosie's Riveters' came into view, George's whooping ringing in her ears as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders, jumping up and down in ecstatic celebration. It took a moment for the gravity of their situation to dawn on her, but when it did she couldn't stop grinning, her cheeks beginning to ache. Rosie was going home. He was safe.

The moment he left the plane, he was swarmed, a dozen hands lifting him up off the tarmac, hauling him up onto the men's shoulders as the barrage of cheers and applause filled his ears. But the second he had slipped through that door, his eyes had found her, standing at the back of the crowd, clapping along, her shoulder leant up against George's. Their gazes met, and she rolled her eyes teasingly - he could almost hear her voice in his head, jokingly begging him to stay humble as he was carried aloft through the crowd.

They were cheering his name, shaking his hand and patting him on the back as he passed, but as soon as his feet touched the tarmac, none of it mattered. The second he was on solid ground again, he was making a beeline towards Frankie, brow raised in question. They were too far apart, too bracketed by ear-splitting cheers for him to simply ask 'Can I kiss you?', but she could always tell. With a smirk and a nod, permission was granted, and the moment they collided his lips were on hers, hands cupping her cheeks, her eyelashes fluttering against his skin. A second, somehow ever more raucous cheer erupted, and he could feel her smiling into the kiss as her hands found his collar, pressing against his jaw. In that moment, even through the cacophony of whoops and yells, she was the only person in the world to him.

The kiss broke, but his hands stayed firmly planted on either side of her face, their foreheads pressed against each other, eyes locked. "Hi," Frankie beamed, speaking so softly that only he could hear.

"Hello."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Frankie had never been quite so much at the centre of attention than she was that night. It was as if the moment Rosie had kissed her in front of everyone on the tarmac, it became her party as well as his, a celebration of just making it, of still having the person you loved at the end of the day. She'd showered three times that afternoon, desperately trying to scrub away the lingering smell of her work, and George had even made her put on lipstick. But Frankie couldn't deny it - she looked fucking good.

The band was in full swing, to such an extent that she had to yell over the incessant ring of trumpets just to order a drink, but as the night rolled on she never once felt Rosie's hand leave her - a gentle palm against her waist or back wherever they went, a quiet reminder that he was home safe, that they were going to be ok. Bailey had an arm around her shoulder, and her head tilted back as she laughed at one of Pappy's jokes, and for once they seemed to feel free - free to simply be each other's friends without having to worry about losing one another.

"So I said to her, I said "Hey Betty, you're gonna wanna paint those ceilings your favourite colour, 'cause you'll be seein' a lot of 'em when I get home," Bailey joked, and she let out a groan as the others laughed, gently slapping his shoulder with the back of her palm. Across the circle they had formed, Croz went digging in his pocket for a cigarette, and she reached out, holding up her lighter for him as he nodded his thanks.

Rosie's hands on her shoulders caught her attention as he slipped around behind her. "I'm gettin' another drink - you need anythin', honey?"

"No, I'm good," She nodded, raising her half-finished beer as proof as he stepped away towards the bar. Turning back to the others, she found Pappy grinning at her, sipping smugly at his whiskey. "Oh, shut up - what're you, twelve?"

"So you've been keeping it under wraps since Christmas?" Crosby asked, raising a brow in alarm as Bailey guffawed.

"Oh, yeah, 'keepin' it under wraps'," He chuckled. "Jesus, we could all tell from the day he got back," The other members of Rosie's flight crew began to laugh, nodding in agreement.

"Well, what can I say? I'm just that great," Frankie grinned, squeezing Bailey's arm as she shuffled past him, moving to follow Rosie towards the bar.

She hadn't had a chance to thank Kidd yet for giving her Bucky's jacket, and was already poised to speak as she approached, a warm smile curling her lip. But then she heard his words.

"Brass is upping the end-of-tour requirements from twenty-five to thirty missions."

Her stomach sank. Not just for the poor pilots, for every man who had been so goddamn close to getting to go home. But because she knew in that moment that Rosie wasn't done. Even if he hadn't realised it yet, even if the decision to stay hadn't yet crossed his mind, she knew him well enough. He wouldn't leave because he couldn't - couldn't give it up and take the easy way out when so many other, less experienced men had to die as a result of this decision. She loved him for it, but maybe she hated him a little too.

Frankie hadn't realised she'd stopped dead in her tracks until Kidd spotted her, his brow furrowing. Rosie turned to follow his gaze, eyes softening the moment they landed on her. "Frankie-"

Her glass went down on the bar with a thud, her desire to drink suddenly evaporated. "Thanks for the jacket, Jack," She nodded, forcing a smile. "That was really nice of you."

Before Rosie got the chance to reach out to her, she had walked away, brushing past them both as she forced her way through the crowd, the thumping of her heartbeat in her ears drowning out the sound of the music. She had begun searching for George without even realising it, spotting her familiar golden curls among a crowd of Red Cross volunteers. Making a move towards her, George turned immediately on her arrival, brow drawing with concern.

"Can we go?"

"Yeah," George accepted without hesitation, casting aside her drink as she shouldered her way towards the door, clearing a path for Frankie to trail along behind.

She hadn't realised quite how tightly she'd been holding her breath until they stepped outside, the cold air hitting her like a wall as she let it out in a gasp, running a hand through her hair as she marched around to the side of the building, sitting down on the nearest bench she could find. The wood creaked as George sat down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her knee and waiting quietly for her to speak.

"I have washed... so much blood out of those planes," Frankie said, her voice uneven, letting out a long, shaky exhale as she spoke. "Before I got this job I didn't really understand how much blood a person could have. Sometimes when they get hit by shrapnel, it tears the leather on the seats, n' the blood soaks into the stuffing. It's really hard to get it out then - usually I just have to seal the hole and leave it in there. But then it's like... whoever gets in that plane next just has to sit on that blood, like there's this permanent reminder that someone died there, but I'm the only one who knows it's there."

"Frankie... what happened? D'you want me to get Rosie?"

"No," She spoke hurriedly, shaking her head. "No, I don't-... I can't talk to him right now."

George turned sideways in her seat to properly look at her, raising a hand to swipe the hair away from her face. "Why? Did he do something?"

Frankie took a deep breath, finally meeting George's gaze, her eyes red and filled with tears. "He's going back up, George."

"What? Did he tell you that?"

"They've upped the number of missions the new guys have to do to be allowed to leave. Rosie's in the clear, but... we both know he won't take it now."

She sniffed, raising a hand to wipe away the tear that trailed down her cheek, and George pulled her forward into a hug, cheek pressed against her scalp as she rubbed her back.

"I'm so tired, George," Frankie croaked, her voice scarcely loud enough to hear.

"I know," She whispered. "... I know."

[bloodynereid]

Those Sunlit Kisses

part 2 here ! part 3 here! and part 4 here!

pairing: robert 'rosie' rosenthal x oc (lucy everett)

tw: mentions of war, alcohol drinking, death, mentions of nazis and hitler, domestic fluff, flirting, kissing, angsty ending-ish

description: a young man and woman meet while they're on a forced break and end up spending a weekend together.

a/n: so... this fic has sort of invaded my life these last few days and it's longer than i thought it would be (12k is insane). i've sort of become attached to it in a weird way ??? idk when you write something as a coping mechanism it sticks with you. i sort of have a plan for how this universe will work so there will probably be a few little fics that happen within it, look out for those! also this was lowkey inspired by before sunrise (haven't watched it but i've seen enough edits) and since we know real rosie fell in love and married his wife within like 3 days this is hopefully not all that ooc. ANYWAYS i hope you enjoy this and pls let me know your thoughts or if you want to send in any asks about lucy they are all welcome in my inbox! OH and this isn't about the real rosie, just the fictional character portrayed by nate mann (*swoon*). and to cut off this insanely long author's note, thank you for reading <333

Rosie rested his head against the cool window, the train was hot. It was almost too hot. How Britain had turned from a pea soup to a tropical country is beyond him. He had been forced to take leave… again. So he booked a little place by the beach, far away from basically everything and he felt tentatively excited.

The thin pages of The Great Gatsby turned in his hands, it almost felt too sticky to read but he hadn’t brought anything else with him, and he didn’t feel content by just looking out of the window.

Rosie didn’t like to take breaks but he knew he needed one after the last mission. His new crew was almost too different. He never faulted anyone for not reuping but it was still strange. So after another successful ten missions he was sent off. At least he wasn’t sent to the Flak House again.

The train finally ambled to a stop and Rosie caught a glimpse of the town name, this was his stop. Quickly grabbing the sparse luggage he had brought with him, Rosie walked off the train and onto the tiny platform. The loud whistle made him jump as the train started to move away.

At least he was finally here.

Lucy was daydreaming again. The taste of pencil filled her mouth as she nervously bit down on the wood. She was feeling better, better than she had in a while but she still felt like she was missing, well, everything.

She had just spent the past few weeks researching and slaving over an article on Hitler’s propaganda and it was a good article. Maybe even a great one, but the years spent working on articles about that vile monster were taking their toll on her.

Lucy could distinctly remember when her editor called her into his office after she had snapped at one of the top correspondents who made a comment about women belonging in the kitchen. 

“I can’t have this anymore. Do you understand what I’m risking by even having a woman on my team? You may be good, but you’re not that good. Now take a damn break before I have to bar you from this bloody office!” 

She understood that it was for her own good but his words stung. It irked her that a man was making her take a break when he would let any of her male counterparts strut around doing whatever they pleased and yelling at secretaries.

So Lucy booked a ticket and left on the afternoon train headed for her hometown. A place almost completely untouched by war… at least for now. She had spent the first few days in bed, trying to recover from the complete exhaustion that five years of war had wrought on her. Lucy also spent that time remembering.

Her parents had died a few months before Hitler invaded Poland. They passed away within weeks of each other in the same house that Lucy was in now. She was almost glad that they didn’t have to experience another war, even if she missed them more than she could handle sometimes.

Her father had risen through the ranks in the Great War, eventually becoming a Colonel and earning a few medals for his service. Lucy’s mother was a singer, she had met and fallen in love with John Everett during one of her performances when she caught his eye from across the room. Diana Everett always insisted it was love at first sight.

They were loving parents and did what they could to make Lucy’s childhood a happy one. Always aiding her in any of her hobbies, and allowing her to pursue her dream of becoming a journalist, even at a time when women were expected to go into gentler trades.

Lucy’s father was the one to die first, he had had a bad cough when Lucy first left for London and that quickly evolved into something worse. Lucy was able to make it back for the funeral and she spent the next few weeks watching as her mother became a shell of herself. One day she just found her mother lying in bed clutching a photo of her late husband and no longer breathing.

The doctors said she died of a heart attack but Lucy knew it was from a broken heart. The entire experience nearly shattered Lucy, she barely cried at either funeral and threw herself into her work, slowly getting more and more recognition for her radical articles informing the British people about the Nazis and Hitler.

But during those first few days at her childhood home, Lucy finally allowed herself to crack. She spent hours writing in her personal diary and crying more tears than she thought possible. Until Friday, when she finally made the decision to pull herself together, she still felt lost but at least she was writing something other than distressing poetry.

So now Lucy sat at her desk, the end of a pencil resting on her lips and the start of a rough outline of a story in front of her. It was a new day.

The smell of the sea filled Rosie’s senses, it felt strange to be walking through a town that looked normal, with no gaping wounds left by bombings. It gave him a renewed sense of duty, places like this needed to be kept safe from the monsters.

He had rented a little room in a B&B ten minutes from the beach. It was nestled between two colorful houses, one painted light green and the other white with a wash of blue. He overheard the sounds of jazz echoing from the blue one, and the soft tones of a woman singing along.

Rosie’s face broke out into a smile and he started humming before looking back at the B&B and heading into the cozy atmosphere. An old woman with a cheerful smile greeted him and took one look at his uniform before upgrading him to one of the larger rooms. He thanked her profusely before heading up the creaking staircase and depositing his luggage onto the quilt-covered bed.

After a few hours of work on the short story, Lucy needed a break and the outside was calling to her. Boiling some water in her favorite kettle, she put on a record and started to hum and eventually sing to one of her mum’s favorite songs.

Once the water was boiled, Lucy carefully went through the motions of pouring it over the Earl Gray leaves in the teapot and letting it steep for a while before straining it into a cup and pouring a splash of milk over it. All the while singing just like her mother used to do when she prepared tea for her.

Armed with a book and a steaming cup of tea, Lucy opened the front door of the house and sat on the porch swing. Carefully placing the cup on the side table and opening up the first pages of her book, Lucy looked around at the front garden. She could almost hear the sounds of joyful laughter and screams from her childhood when she used to play with the neighborhood kids on that very lawn. 

With her bare feet up on the porch swing and the milky goodness of tea in her mouth, Lucy started to read the first pages of The Great Gatsby, and settled in for a book she had been waiting too long to read.

Rosie had changed into his civies before grabbing a spare towel and his book. He had to stop the owner for directions to the beach but other than that he was excited to see the ocean, and experience the sun for the first time in a long while.

As he headed down the street he was surprised to find a woman sitting on the porch of the blue house he had seen earlier. Her blonde hair was curled around her face and she was wearing an outfit similar to his own - a blue button down shirt and loose black pants. In her hands was a copy of a book that was identical to one he held in his hand.

All Rosie could think about was that she was beautiful. He was openly gaping in the middle of a sidewalk because a woman he didn’t even know had completely enraptured him. Shaking himself out of his reverie after he realized just how long he had been staring at her, he was almost tempted to say something, anything. Just to have her look at him.

He just couldn’t get his mouth to form the words. Rosie had always been a shy person, especially as a kid but it seemed like all those years of shyness were finally catching up to him. So instead of saying anything, Rosie just turned and walked over to the beach. His knuckles clenched around his own copy of The Great Gatsby, imagining the ways that he could approach the beautiful woman of the blue house and how the conversation would go.

Maybe he could ask her about the book, or the music streaming out of her window. Maybe he could ask her out to dinner or… suddenly Rosie’s thought process stopped short when he had the awful realization that the woman could be married. He hadn’t even realized he had made it to the beach when the sand crunched under foot and he was thrown off balance. Taking a few moments to steady himself he walked along until he found a sand dune that looked nice enough. All the while thinking of all the ways the blonde beauty could reject him.

Rosie had now convinced himself it would be the worst idea on Earth to even approach her, so he settled onto his blanket and cracked open his book. Allowing for the sun to finally seep into his pores and getting lost in the pages of Gatsby’s own romantic woes.

After all the tea was drunk and Lucy had gotten through quite a bit of The Great Gatsby, she decided to get back to writing. Instead of going inside Lucy quickly grabbed a picnic blanket and spread it out in the front lawn. The outline for her short story was coming along nicely and she needed sun after spending the last five years under a constant cover of smog and rain in London. 

She also managed to make a couple of sandwiches to serve as her lunch and spread herself out onto the soft fabric of the blanket. Squinting her eyes in the sun she started to elaborate a bit more on the brother in her story, ruminating about how she would have loved to have siblings.

Once she had completed half of the outline, Lucy’s eyes travelled from the cream page to the sidewalk, where a few mothers were milling around with their children. Pushing them in prams or trying to balance picnic baskets and food as the kids ran circles around them. A warm smile spread itself across Lucy’s face, this town was like her little corner of heaven.

It was mid afternoon when she first spotted him, Lucy had abandoned her writing a while ago in favor of people watching and basking in the rays of sun. She could have gone to the beach, but she couldn’t be bothered to move from her lawn where the sun was hitting just right.

The man looked about her age, he was wearing civilian clothes but he had an air about him that made Lucy think he was at least part of some branch of the military. He had dark curly hair and a mustache and he looked like an angel sent down from heaven. In his hand, Lucy spied a copy of the very book sitting next to her and a towel covered in sand. He must have been at the beach.

Lucy knew she was blatantly staring but he was just so pretty. She was used to the men that made up her London office, balding and sexist, who flirted with her like she was an object to be used. So whenever she ventured out into the real world Lucy was basically set in a tailspin by the array of people that interested her, and for some reason this strange man made her heart skip a beat.

Almost like she had wished it to happen, the man caught her stare and smiled shyly. Bringing up his free hand in an awkward wave. Cute. In return, Lucy beamed at him and waved back, before quickly grabbing her copy of The Great Gatsby and lifting it up.

Rosie headed back from the beach feeling renewed, and he was also hopeful that he might get another glance at the beautiful blonde from the blue house. Ever lost in his thoughts, Rosie didn’t even realize he was on the sidewalk that led to his B&B until he caught the glance of the woman from the porch… except this time she was lying on a blanket in the middle of the yard. 

He smiled at her when he realized she was staring at him, at him! Then he did the stupidest thing he could think of and waved. Rosie started to berate himself for how idiotic he was being when the blonde waved back and smiled at him with a smile that had his breath catching.

A moment later she held up her book, a copy of which he was also carrying, and he smiled even more broadly.

“Good book?” She called out to him with a voice that reminded him of the movies. A crisp British accent laced with laughter.

“It sure is.” Rosie answered, almost feeling slightly ashamed of his American accent which sounded so much more grating in comparison to hers. 

“I’m Lucy!” The woman said, standing up and brushing herself off as she walked over to the whitewashed fence so she was now only a meter away from Rosie. How he wished she was even closer.

“I’m Rosie.”

“Ah, an American. I knew it!” Rosie blushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. “Hey! I never said it was a bad thing. It’s nice to meet you, Rosie. You have a pretty accent.”

“I think that’s the first time one of you Brits has ever said that to me.”

“We haven’t been very welcoming, have we? Well that must be remedied instantly! How have you been enjoying good ol’ Britain?” Rosie felt like he was watching a band play the most incredible set, Lucy talked like she could charm the entire air force in just seconds.

“First time I’ve seen the sun in years.” Rosie said, exaggerating the comment by squinting at her, making Lucy laugh - the sound making a blush spread across Rosie’s face, he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life. 

“You and me both. I like to think of it as one of Britain's charms but it does get rather melancholic, don’t you think? Where are you usually stationed, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Thorpe Abbotts, I’m one of the pilots.”

“A fighter pilot?”

“Oh dear God no. I pilot B-17s.”

“Ah the big birds, that suits you better I would say.” Rosie inclined his head in agreement which had Lucy smiling at him. 

“I’m a war correspondent - although I haven’t been on the front lines quite yet. My editor still has rather old-fashioned beliefs about women and war.” Lucy’s eyes dimmed at the last part which had Rosie wincing.

“They should feel lucky to have you, not the other way around.” Blush covered Lucy’s cheeks at his statement and Rosie felt himself smile triumphantly.

“Oh you charmer. Would you like to come in for some tea or water, maybe?”

“That would be wonderful.”

Lucy felt a certain giddiness encasing her body, she never did this. She never invited strange men, albeit handsome strange men, into her home and yet she was doing this. At least he didn’t seem like an axe murderer, and he was an American! Mostly she was just trying to overcome the nerves of having someone she actually liked showing interest in her.

Rosie quickly followed her into the house, helping her carry the picnic blanket she had been using as well as all her writing materials. So he truly was a gentleman after all.

The record had stopped spinning a while ago so when Lucy saw Rosie eying the player she quickly took the blanket and papers out of his hands.

“Why don’t you put on some music? I need to put these things away anyways.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go right ahead.” Rosie smiled gratefully and walked over to the record player, Lucy watched him flick through the various options and let herself smile. She needed some good in her life, she was going to let herself have this, even if it’s only for a few hours.

Turning around, Lucy folded the blanket and set it on one of the wooden chairs by the door, placing the book on top of it before bounding over to the study and placing the sheets of paper into a neat pile next to the typewriter. The sounds of Artie Shaw suddenly filled the atmosphere and Lucy quickly walked back over to the living room, making the creaks of the wooden floor boards alert her presence.

Lucy found Rosie staring out of the window and tapping on the frame in time with the music. He looked completely lost in thought that Lucy almost felt bad disturbing him.

“Rosie?”

“Hmm?”

“Water?”

“I would love some.” Rosie said as he turned from the window and smiled at Lucy, her nerves of bothering him dissipating in an instant when he set his gray eyes on hers. “Do you need any help getting it?”

“No, just keep choosing good music and we should be fine.” Lucy turned to get to the kitchen and grabbed a few glasses as Rosie trailed in behind her. Leaning against the door frame as he watched her move around the kitchen. 

“You have a great collection.”

“That would be my parents’ accomplishment. They drilled good music taste into me.” Lucy said with a sad smile on her face as she poured out some water from one of the pitchers.

“My mom was the same way. The one problem is that I am in no way musically inclined, I just know what sounds good.”

“Have you tried to sing?” Lucy asked with a teasing smile as she passed him the glass.

“Oh I have, you do not want to be there when that happens.”

“How bad?”

“Horrifying. I sound like a dying goat.” They both burst out laughing and Lucy felt a warm feeling spread through her limbs, it almost felt like she was being doused in joy.

“I cannot wait for the day when I hear you sing.”

“Why? So you can ridicule me? That will not be happening in a million years, ma’am.”

“I would never ridicule you! How can you think so lowly of me?”

“I barely even know you-”

“Exactly.” Lucy interrupted with a serious look on her face that had Rosie chuckling again. They quieted down into a comfortable silence as they each took little sips of water every now and then, just watching the way the other person reacted.

“How are you liking the book?” Rosie finally asked.

“I’m enjoying it, it isn’t the kind of book I usually pick up but it’s a nice reminder of a time when war wasn’t a part of daily life. I do have to say though, you Americans are quite strange.”

“I feel like I should rebuke that but it’s the truth. Doesn’t it almost feel like the book was set in a completely different world?”

“Yes!” Lucy fervently agreed as they started to drift back towards the living room, settling into the worn couch.

Over the next few hours, Lucy and Rosie inched closer and closer together on the couch. They talked about everything under the sun; their lives, their favorite books, pictures, music, war and their lives before it all. Lucy let Rosie take charge of the music and their conversation was soundtracked by various jazz hits and whatever obscure artist Rosie seemed to find fascinating in her collection.

Eventually the conversation turned to family and Lucy avidly started to talk about her parents, a subject which she almost never discussed with anyone she had just met.

“So yeah my mum met my dad at one of the pubs she was performing at and the rest is history.”

“Well now I have to get you to sing, it must run in the family! And it’s only fair.”

“Hey! That was a joke.” Lucy screeched, she never liked singing in front of other people she preferred doing it in the comfort of her own home and doing it alone.

“Aha so you do admit you were trying to ridicule me!” Rosie said triumphantly as he pointed at Lucy, making her face twist in complete disbelief.

“That is what you got from that?”

“Well it’s the truth isn’t it?”

“It is not! And I will not sing for you.”

“One day you will.”

“Will not.”

“Will.”

“You stupid, stubborn man.” Lucy said poking at Rosie’s shoulder, making him devolve into hysterics which had Lucy smiling stupidly at the man in front of her. The butterflies in her stomach hadn’t really gone away the entire time she had been talking to him, they had somehow managed to get worse.

That was when she realized how late it had gotten, the sun was just beginning to set and the living room was set alight with the glowing colors of the sky.

“Oh dear, I have kept you too late. You don’t have somewhere to be, do you?” Lucy asked nervously, once Rosie had started to calm down.

“No, no, not at all. I didn’t have much time to make any plans before I came here.”

“Well in that case how would you like to have dinner with me?” Lucy didn’t show it but she was practically buzzing with nerves - hoping and praying that he would say yes.

“Are you kidding?” Rosie was looking at Lucy with a completely gobsmacked expression on his face that had Lucy wondering if he truly thought she was messing with him.

“Not at all.”

“Well, in that case, I would love to have dinner with you.”

“Uh- wonderful. I haven’t cooked anything so you wouldn’t mind going out, do you?”

“Of course not, it would be a good opportunity to explore the town.”

“I’ll just grab my coat and we can go?” Lucy asked tentatively and Rosie nodded before settling back into the couch. Lucy yelled out a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ and disappeared into the hallways of the house.

Rosie felt like he was in paradise. Who would have known that going on mandatory leave would get him this? He wasn’t sure he had ever bonded with someone as quickly as he had bonded with Lucy. It was as if they were twin souls, linked so that it was inevitable that they would meet at one point or another.

The light in the living room changed as the sun started to set, it played with the shadows on the walls and highlighted the framed photographs and art which told a story of a happy childhood and a happy family. It reminded him of his own childhood home. Rosie hadn’t even realized how much he had missed laughing. Something that suddenly just became so easy around Lucy.

Rosie had to give it to his self-restraint, he somehow managed not to kiss Lucy even though many a time in the past few hours he fantasized of brushing his hands through her blonde curls and kissing her like his life depended on it.

“Rosie? Do you want me to find you a coat?” A muffled yell was heard from somewhere upstairs which had him looking up towards the ceiling.

“No, I think I should be fine!” Rosie yelled back.

“Are you sure? I can probably find something that fits you.”

“I’m sure it’s not that cold, Lucy.”

“Okay! Don’t go around blaming me when you’re freezing to death.”

Shaking his head in mock resolution and quietly chuckling, Rosie stood up from his place on the green couch and went to pick up his copy of The Great Gatsby and the towel he had brought with him all those hours ago. But he stopped short when he saw Lucy’s own copy haphazardly strewn on one of the wooden chairs that seemed to be scattered throughout the house. With a sly smile, Rosie left the book and walked towards the front door, empty handed.

“Hi! Sorry that took so long. My hair was a mess, are you ready?” Lucy quickly said as she basically ran down the stairs, a motion that had Rosie’s hair raising in alarm - worried that she would somehow trip and fall to a quick death.

“You’re going to crack your head open one of these days if you keep going down stairs that quickly.” Rosie said when she finally reached the bottom and went to grab her purse from the side table.

“I know those stairs like the back of my hand, Rosie. If I ever trip and fall I’m blaming your handsome face.” Rosie made an expression of mock horror, but inside he felt like a stupid teenager.

“I’m offended by such an allegation. It would be your fault for getting distracted.” Lucy hummed back in mock reply before opening the door and walking out into the brisk night air, which had Rosie quickly following after her.

“Milady.” Rosie said, as he offered his arm to Lucy once she had shut and locked the door. Lucy beamed at him before slipping her arm around his, physically linking them together.

“Alright, I know this little Italian place that a friend’s family owns. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. I’ve been eating army rations for the past few years, anything that isn’t that sounds incredible.”

The pair roamed through the cobbled streets, in search of the little alleyway that housed the restaurant and basking in each other’s presence. When they finally arrived at the quaint little restaurant, Rosie was surprised to see that there were various other couples seated and eating Italian dishes.

“Lucy! You didn’t tell us you were back in town.” Said a voice from behind the counter, it belonged to a tall, brunette woman whose hair was tied back into an elaborate bun. 

“Hi, Renata! Yeah, sorry, this was a last minute thing. How have you been?”

“Good, good. Now who is this handsome man?”

“Major Rosenthal, ma’am.”

“How did you bag this one, Lucy?” The brunette asked, making a blush creep up over both of Lucy and Rosie’s faces. 

“Renata…”

“Fine! I won’t ask anymore questions. A table for two, I presume? We have a nice one close to the back.”

“That sounds great.”

Rosie spent the next hour eating the best spaghetti he had ever eaten and staring at the woman he seemed to be quickly falling in love with. They seemed to never run out of topics of conversation, cycling through enough to fill an entire encyclopedia. Rosie learnt a lot more about the British news field than he had ever thought was possible and in turn Lucy seemed enraptured whenever he talked about flying.

They stayed until it was almost closing time,when Renata basically pushed them out and gave them a complimentary bottle of wine, which had Lucy blushing in embarrassment and Rosie laughing. Somehow the night air was still warm, even though the sun had long set and the world had started to fall asleep.

“I’m glad I met you Rosie.” Lucy finally ventured, after they had been walking for a while in complete silence. Just letting the energy of the day seep in.

“Me too. I never in a million years would have thought I would meet someone like you.”

“You really do have a way with words, Major. Have you ever thought of becoming a poet?”

“I will leave all the writing to you, sweetheart.”

“This is it.” Lucy muttered once they had arrived back at the blue house at the end of the street.

“And that would be me.” Rosie said, pointing at the B&B next to the house.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You can bet on it, Lucy.”

“Great.” Lucy whispered the first word as Rosie started to move closer and closer to her. He felt a wave of dizziness hit him, but he carefully placed both of his hands on her cheeks and stroked the soft skin.

“I’m really glad I met you too, Lucy.” Rosie muttered before surging forward and finally doing what he had been meaning to do for the past few hours. He kissed her with such intensity that it caught Lucy off guard. She stood still for a few moments before kissing him back with the same intensity and love that he was emphasizing in that kiss.

Lucy tangled her hands in his brown curls and felt the world just go still. For the first time in a long while. They stayed like that, kissing and holding each other until they heard the distant sounds of a baby crying.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Rosie asked once they broke apart.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Lucy basically screeched in happiness once she had shut the door behind her. She finally understood what her mum was talking about when she talked about love at first sight. Rosie was her dream man, someone she didn’t even realize she had been looking for.

After carefully putting everything away and changing into her nightgown, Lucy settled into the comfort of her own bed and started to write lines upon lines about Rosie. She had filled up nearly two pages of her diary when her eyelids began to droop. It was almost midnight and she needed to be refreshed for tomorrow so she quickly signed off and pulled the covers over her body - allowing for sleep to pull her into its warm embrace.

The morning sun streamed through her window and softly woke Lucy up. Her relaxed joints groaned as she stretched and enjoyed the feeling of summer and sleep on her skin. Yesterday morning seemed like a distant memory. The darkness that usually invaded her waking hours felt almost less. Lucy had an excited thrill running through her body as she stretched.

Urging herself out of bed, Lucy slipped a robe over her nightgown and tied the sashes together loosely. The stairs creaked as her socked feet went down them and she was reminded of Rosie and his little comment about being careful. It was almost like this house was being reawakened with memories of the living, instead of being haunted by the ghosts of the past.

Once she arrived at the kitchen, Lucy started to go through her morning motions. Brewing a cup of Earl Gray tea, toasting some bread and starting to fry up some eggs. She was in the middle of beating the eggs together when a loud knock echoed through the house.

“There is no way that could be Rosie… could it?” Lucy wondered aloud, as she dried her hands on a tea towel and headed to answer the door. She turned the handle and pulled the door open to find that it was indeed Rosie. He was standing on the porch in civilian clothes again, his hair seemed a little less ordered than it was the day before and the morning sun was carefully lighting his face.

Lucy’s face broke out into a smile and Rosie returned it, before he carefully scanned her up and down and realized she was still in her nightgown. It was a long lacy and cotton thing that was only slightly covered by her robe. A light blush dusted his cheeks as he tried to focus on her face.

“Good morning. I hope I’m not disturbing…”

“Not all! Come, come. I’m just making breakfast.” Lucy stepped from out of the door frame, allowing for Rosie to walk into the house. She smiled and tried to contain her excitement as she focused on closing the door.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” Lucy asked once she turned around and saw that Rosie was looking at her, he had a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there a moment before and it made a surge of electricity run up her spine.

“I had some things at the B&B.”

“Alright, can I interest you in a cup of tea then?” 

“Actually…” Rosie took a step closer to Lucy, making her raise her eyebrows in question. “I think I would like to do this first.”

Rosie pushed a stray curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear before gently pressing his lips to hers. Lucy’s eyelids fell shut and she threw her arms around his neck, allowing herself to be swept away by the sensation. Once they drew apart, Lucy scrunched her nose up and looked at the handsome man in front of her.

“Well aren’t you presumptuous? Coming all the way here in the early morning just to kiss me.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you, I think it was warranted.” Rosie said with a shrug as he looked at Lucy adoringly, stroking his knuckles against the apple of her cheek.

“Flirt.”

“You love it.”

“I’m not gracing that with a response, now come. I don’t want my tea to get cold.” Lucy entwined her hand with his and started to pull Rosie in the direction of the kitchen, he was all too happy to follow her command.

Rosie watched from one of the wooden chairs as Lucy busied herself with making breakfast. She was as graceful as a dancer, she seemed to have the routine nailed down to a ‘T’.

“Here.” Lucy said, as she carefully placed a cup of steaming hot tea in front of Rosie. “Let me know what you think.”

Rosie gingerly rose the mug to his lips and blew on the milky liquid. It smelled incredible, he usually just drank the weak coffee at base but this smelt like something out of a bakery. Then he took a sip and instead of tasting something incredible, it almost tasted flat. In an effort to not disappoint the woman in front of him, Rosie forced a smile and fake hummed in delight.

“You hate it.” Lucy said with a laugh, which instantly had Rosie’s façade falling and he too was laughing.

“I’m an American, what can I say?”

“I’ll excuse it. Here I just finished mine so I can drink the rest. No need for it to go to waste.” Lucy placed her hands over his and Rosie felt the familiar spark in his body that was elicited by being able to touch her. His beautiful Lucy.

“I’m sorry.” Rosie said once Lucy started to take moderated sips of the beverage.

“Don’t apologize, I, for one, hate the taste of coffee so I think we can move on from this.” Rosie’s face turned scandalized for a moment but he quickly schooled his expression and nodded seriously, making Lucy snort and continue drinking her tea before turning to stir the eggs in the frying pan.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

“Yes. Mrs. Sloane gave me plenty.” Rosie distinctly remembered the large feast the owner had prepared, it was almost too much to handle but she had been intent on doing it so he didn’t stop her.

“She’s wonderful, isn’t she? She used to babysit me when I was younger. I was supposedly a very difficult child.” Lucy muttered as she plated her breakfast and sat across from Rosie at the breakfast table.

“I don’t believe that, you seem like an angel.”

“Oh no I was very much a devil child. The amount of times I was lost in the sand dunes is beyond count.” Rosie guffawed and watched Lucy as she scooped up pieces of scrambled eggs with her unbuttered toast.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did, you?” Lucy asked, after taking a few bites of her toast. Rosie nodded and stretched over the table to tuck an errant curl behind her ear, seeing as a light blush covered Lucy’s face.

“Do you have any plans for today?”

“Nope. I was going to write but I think there is something else I would much rather be doing.”

“And what would that be?” Rosie asked with a smirk starting to spread across his face, he liked getting to tease her. To see what he could say to get Lucy all flustered.

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fine, Major. I want to spend it with you.” Lucy said quickly, relenting under Rosie’s teasing glare.

“Good, because I have no plans.”

“Great.” Lucy nodded resolutely and then stood up to put the dishes in the sink. Rosie watched her as the fabric of her robe swayed around her. He stood up from his seat and walked up behind her, carefully placing his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her head.

“Hello there?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Do I?”

“Hmmm.”

“Rosie, I need to wash the dishes.”

“Just stay with me for a moment, then you can wash the dishes.” Lucy turned around so Rosie was staring into those deep brown eyes he loved.

“What are we doing, Rosie?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean with us. I’m assuming you will have to leave soon and I have to get back to London. I want this to be good but I can’t- I don’t deal well with loss, Rosie.” Lucy muttered, making Rosie’s heart almost break in half. He stood slightly speechless for a few moments as Lucy took to rearranging his hair. Rosie hadn’t even realized that this would all end soon. He didn’t realize he would have to leave her so soon.

“We’ll write and I promise I will do everything in my power to keep coming back. I want whatever this is, Lucy. Darling, I haven’t felt like this ever. I don’t want to lose you, even if I have just met you.”

“So we do this. We promise we will come back to each other.”

“Yes. And I get to call you mine.”

“Rosie, I- alright. Let’s do this. I’m in.”

“Good, because I was all in the moment I saw that beautiful face from across the lawn.” Lucy giggled and suddenly rested her head against his chest. Rosie was sure she could feel the thudding of his heart, so he wrapped her up in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Lucy’s arms circled his middle and they stayed like that for a few long moments.

“What do you want to do today?” Rosie heard Lucy mutter against the fabric of his shirt, her hot breath making shivers run up his spine.

“Whatever you would like.”

“Does a picnic sound nice?”

“That sounds lovely.” Lucy started to unwind her arms and Rosie already started to miss the weight of her against him.

“I would need to get changed.” Rosie watched Lucy motioned at her clothes and smiled at the devastated expression on his face.

“Do you really?”

“Yes, you menace!” Rosie laughed at the scandalized expression on Lucy’s face.

“Fine, fine. I’ll start on the dishes.”

“Rosie… you don’t have to.”

“I want to. Now shoo, before I don’t let you get dressed.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Watch me.” Rosie said, ducking his head so he was looking at Lucy through his eyebrows. She just rolled her eyes and pulled herself away from his arms, but not before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Rosie smiled as he watched her walk away from him, he knew he was beyond smitten.

Lucy was desperately searching for something to wear when the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filtered in from downstairs. Rosie had put on music, and she could distantly hear him humming to himself over the rush of water.

Staring at the closer, Lucy realized that all her clothes suddenly seemed too ugly to work, she wanted to dress up enough that she looked nice but also didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. Why is this so complicated?

Huffing, Lucy finally pulled out a dark pink dress she hadn’t worn since before the war. It was made of cotton and she knew it looked good on her… five years ago. There was no fault in trying it on so Lucy quickly changed out of her nightgown and buttoned up the cotton dress up. Fluffing up her curls, Lucy carefully folded the strewn clothes and arranged the closet.

She knew she was probably just trying to procrastinate going downstairs when Lucy started to smooth out the fabric of her dress for the fifth time.

“Deep breaths. It will be fine.” Lucy firmly nodded in resolution before opening the door of her bedroom and walking out.

Rosie was finishing drying the dishes when Lucy walked in, she watched as he stared out of the kitchen window absentmindedly humming to the music and drying one of the mugs.

“How do sandwiches sound?” Lucy finally asked as she pulled the old fridge door open, trying to find if she had enough things to make a suitable lunch.

“That sounds great. You don’t mind that I used the record player?”

“Darling, you are free to use that whenever you please.” Lucy reassured him as she emerged from the fridge holding a parcel of cheese and various pieces of produce. Her heart seemed to stop when she saw how he was looking at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No really, why are you staring at me like that?”

“You look like a vision.” Lucy ducked her head to stop Rosie from seeing her cheeks flaming bright red.

“Thank you.” Lucy placed the food on the cutting board and started to cut up the cheese into slices to go on the bread.

“You don’t take compliments well, do you?”

“I’m British, what do you expect?” Lucy said as she looked at Rosie over her shoulder, repeating the same words he had said to her. He had finished drying the dishes a while ago and now he was leaning on the counter with his arms crossed. The morning sun hit his face just right and Lucy was wondering how he had become a pilot when he clearly could have been put into major motion pictures. 

Lucy turned back to the task at hand with a smile on her face, the song on the record player suddenly changed and Lucy started to hum in tune with the music.

She quickly finished making the sandwiches and ordered Rosie to try and find the basket that she had stowed away in the hall closet. When he returned, Rosie was also carrying the picnic blanket from the day before.

“Thought we might need this.”

“Perfect, you can set it- uh Rosie?” Lucy found herself being spun around and into Rosie’s arms. They were swaying in time with the music and she found herself looking at the man in front of her with a questioning look in her eyes.

“This song can’t not be danced to. And you look too beautiful for me not to take this opportunity.” Rosie said as he brought Lucy closer to him, leaning his forehead against hers.

“You need to stop that.”

“What? Saying the truth?”

“Rosie…”

“Nope, not taking requests. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh God.” Lucy groaned in mock anguish and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling as he tightened his hold on her.

Once everything was packed and ready, Rosie found himself carrying the picnic basket in one hand and holding Lucy’s hand in the other. She truly looked like some kind of angel sent from heaven. Her blonde curls bounced as she walked and excitedly explained random bits of history or childhood stories about different areas of the town.

Supposedly they were on the way to one of the little alcoves that was the perfect picnic spot according to Lucy, but Rosie just felt happy to be around her. He still didn’t truly understand how exactly he had found Lucy. He could clearly imagine what would have happened if he never took leave, he would be going up again and would have never known about the blonde spitfire who hated compliments and lived in a blue house by the beach.

God, he can almost picture Crosby’s face when he tells him that he found a girl while on leave. That is going to be something that he would never want to miss.

“So tell me about you now, I think I’ve rambled on long enough.” Lucy said, as she beamed at Rosie, bumping her shoulder against his.

“You know almost everything about me, darling.”

“There has to be something. A dirty secret, perhaps?”

“No, no. Nothing of the sort.”

“Alright fine, Saint Rosie.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Any dirty secrets.”

“Hmm, a few, but my lips are sealed.”

“Now that’s unfair.”

“It is not!”

They continued on like that for a while longer, until both Rosie and Lucy had started to feel tiny pangs of hunger in their stomachs. The sun was shining brightly as they continued to walk on the beach, Lucy still intent on finding the cove she used to go to.

“Aha! There it is. I told you, my parents used to take me here when I was a kid.”

Lucy unlaced her hand from Rosie’s and he watched her as she ran across the sand, twirling and laughing like she had just won the lottery. A feeling of complete happiness and joy spread through Rosie’s limbs and he carefully placed the picnic basket on the sand, running after Lucy. Once he reached her he pulled her into his arms and twirled her around. Their laughter quickly filled the cove with joy it hadn’t witnessed in a while.

They had calmed down after a while and Rosie quickly helped Lucy set up the picnic. The ginger beer somehow still cool to the touch after being carried under the sun for a while. 

Once everything was ready, Rosie basically inhaled his sandwich, whether that was because of Lucy’s culinary skills or the hunger that had built up in him during the walk he did not know, but Rosie felt calm for the first time in a while.

He was now watching the push and pull of the waves against the sandy beach and stroking a hand through Lucy’s soft curls. With her head resting on his lap she seemed to almost be dozing off, a small content smile adorning her face.

“You know, I’m glad my editor made me take a break.” Lucy’s soft voice carefully broke the comfortable silence, Rosie hummed in appreciation - urging her to go on. “I haven’t stopped working ever since… my parents.”

“It’s almost like you settled into a routine, you thought you were handling it well and then suddenly…” Rosie trailed off as he thought back to his time at the Flak House, he had gotten better at handling missions after that, he felt more human but he knew exactly how hard it felt to just stop sometimes. Because when you stop, you start to feel everything.

“It gets too much…”

“Exactly. I had- have, the same problem.”

“Birds of a feather.”

“Yes.” Rosie murmured, his mind far away in the clouds. He felt so connected to Lucy for some reason. Maybe this is why. They were two sides of the same coin.

“Read to me, Rosie.” Lucy said after a few moments of silence. Rosie looked down to find that Lucy’s brown eyes were fixed on his face.

“You want the silly American to read to you?”

“Rosie… everything about you is beautiful, now, read to me. The silly Brit commands you.”

“Commanding me now, are we?” Rosie teasingly asked, largely ignoring the first part of Lucy’s comment which made him feel like he was floating.

“Rosie.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rosie picked up the copy of The Great Gatsby that Lucy had packed and flicked to a random page, starting to read the tale of some rich fictional idiots who had no care in the world except for the sorrows of love.

Pastels painted the sky as the sun started to set. Lucy was still lying in the same position she had been for the past few hours. Rosie had abandoned reading after a while and they spent that time talking and sitting in comfortable silence.

It was easy just being around Rosie, Lucy felt completely safe in his presence. He had this reassuring air around him which made her sure he was a wonderful Major.

“Sometimes I wish I could paint. I can write about this moment all I want but to create a piece of it would be a completely different experience.”

“Why don’t you start it?”

“What? Painting? No never, you have a better chance of turning me into a singer.” Lucy answered, making the pair laugh.

“Do you think we should head back?”

“Let us stay for a while more, Rosie. It’s too perfect. I want something to remember when we leave.”

“We’ll come back here, Lucy. I swear it.” Lucy smiled up sadly at Rosie, examining the way he looked down at her. She thought he looked earnest enough, but who knew with this war? Who knew if he would ever come back to her?

“I hope we will, Rosie.”

Lucy noticed how much quieter the walk back to her house was, Rosie had slung his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into him and protecting Lucy from the biting night wind that had started to pick up. It was almost as if the realization of leaving was starting to weigh on them. Rosie would be leaving late the next afternoon and Lucy on Monday. Both headed back to their lives and away from the slice of heaven they had been able to cultivate.

“Do you want to come in?” Lucy asked once they arrived at her house. She had already started to move to grab the picnic basket, making up her mind that Rosie wanted to at least spend a meal by himself.

“I would love to.” Lucy smiled and moved back to her original position under Rosie’s arm. “But only if you don’t mind me cooking?”

“You cook?!” Lucy must have realized she looked beyond surprised because she schooled her face a few moments later.

“I do. I haven’t had the chance recently, but my mother taught me well.”

Lucy smiled and quickly pecked Rosie on the cheek before bounding over to the door to unlock it.

“Come on, Rosie. I’m desperate to see what you’ll make.”

Rosie just laughed and picked up his pace until he followed Lucy into the house and shut the door behind him. He placed the picnic basket on the floor and then headed towards the direction of the kitchen.

He passed Lucy, who was quickly flicking through the record collection, intent on finding something to put on while he cooked. Rosie already knew what he was going to make, he just hoped Lucy had the right ingredients for it.

Rosie quickly spent the next hour prepping and cooking his mom’s famous tomato soup. Lucy poured them each large cups of wine and watched him as he cooked. Rosie felt slightly embarrassed by her calculating stare, feeling her eyes on him the entire time he was slicing or stirring, but after a while he realized she was staring at him in admiration. Watching as he fluidly moved through her kitchen and prepared a dinner just for the two of them.

When Rosie was finally ready to plate the food, Lucy offered him two china bowls her mother must have saved for special occasions and Rosie distinctly felt his heart swell. He was rather nervous after they finished serving everything and sat down next to each other at the large dinner table that was usually left unused.

Rosie watched Lucy as dipped her spoon into the tomato soup, raised it to her lips and took a delicate sip. He watched as her face contorted in awe and she quickly took a larger sip.

“Rosie. How? This needs to be in a restaurant. This is incredible!”

“It can’t be that good.”

“Oh it is. You must tell me your secrets.” Rosie laughed, relieved that he was able to please her. He took a sip of his own soup and relished in the familiar taste of home.

After dinner and cleaning up the dishes, Rosie found himself nestled next to Lucy on the couch. She had gotten changed once they had finished drying the dishes and was now wearing the long lacy nightgown he had seen that morning. It seemed that it was tailored to be his own personal torture device.

“Lucy, you really need to stop me, because I really want to kiss you right now.” Rosie finally said, it seemed like the two glasses of wine had given him enough confidence that his brain was no longer filtering his mouth. Lucy turned her head to look at him directly and he watched as a smile blossomed on her face.

“Oh I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”

This kiss felt different from the others. It was as if it was imbued with a special kind of love that came from knowing the other person on a much deeper level. Rosie’s fingers were tangled in Lucy’s silky blonde curls and he could feel as his own curls were being ruffled from where Lucy’s hands had started to tug on them.

When they finally broke apart, both Rosie and Lucy were panting hard. Rosie knew he was looking at Lucy with more admiration than he thought was possible and she was looking at him with the same depth of love in her eyes.

“You are quite a man, Robert Rosenthal.”

“And you are quite a woman, Lucy Everett.” Lucy laughed and she tucked herself close to him once again. Rosie relished in the warmth that her body emanated, how he wished he could stay like this forever.

Little by little, the sound of Bing Crosby started to fade and Rosie felt himself drop into a slow slumber. Lucy’s eyes also began to close and the two lovers drifted off into the sweet escape of sleep.

Only once did one of them wake, Rosie woke up panting after having what seemed like a nightmare. The moon illuminated the living room and he could still hear the distant sounds of a woman screaming. He shook himself out of it and instead focused on the blonde in his arms. He carefully readjusted her and placed a kiss on her cheek before falling back asleep.

Lucy felt a warm solid body pressed against her own. She blearily blinked her eyes open and watched as her living room blossomed around her. Then she remembered where she was, and who she was with.

“You’re finally awake.” Rosie’s voice made Lucy smile contently and she looked up to see Rosie’s intent stare on her face.

“Hmmm, good morning.”

“It is indeed.”

“You stayed.”

“I wouldn’t leave unless I had to, Lucy.” Rosie said with a sad smile, Lucy watched as his eyes dimmed slightly and she quickly nestled closer into him. Sitting up slightly to press a kiss to his jaw, and then his cheek and finally his lips.

“What was that for?”

“I thought you needed it.” Lucy said with a shrug before she was too attacked with kisses. Rosie’s mustache tickled her skin as he placed a flurry of kisses all over her face. She shrieked in delight, making Rosie chuckle against her. “Rosie! Stop! I have to go make breakfast.”

“Nope.” Rosie stopped kissing her for a moment just to respond to her comment and Lucy let out a sigh of relief, which was instantly cut short as he started his assault once again.

“Rosie…”

“Okay, okay fine. Come on. I’ll help you make breakfast.” Rosie said, finally relenting. He stretched out his arms and let out a groan as Lucy also yawned and started to stand up from her place on the couch.

“What are you feeling like?”

“Anything you want, darling. Just none of that tea please.” Lucy narrowed her eyes at him, which had Rosie smiling sheepishly at her.

“Fine, come on.”

Lucy quickly busied herself as she picked out the meager ingredients she had to make eggless pancakes, since she had used up the last of the eggs yesterday. Lucy could feel Rosie’s eyes on her when she started to do her little tea ritual.

“Can you put on some music, honey?” Lucy asked once she had finished pouring herself a cup.

“Of course.”

After the click of the record sounded, Lucy distinctly felt the weight of Rosie behind her as he pulled her towards him and hugged her from behind. Lucy was carefully measuring out the ingredients but she let her head lean against his shoulder.

“Hmmm. I’m going to miss you.” Lucy whispered, Rosie hummed against her head and Lucy felt herself start to sway against him. She felt a slow tear run down the length of her cheek and she allowed herself to just feel for a few moments.

“I may be leaving but I’ll always be in your heart, and you will always be in mine.”

“You’re already making me cry, Rosie, stop saying things like that.” Lucy said with a strained laugh. Looking back at him, Lucy felt her heart both swell and break simultaneously.

“Lucy… I-”

“I love you.” Lucy muttered, interrupting Rosie mid sentence. She watched him as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“You- you? You love me?”

“I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

“I love you too. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you sitting outside on your porch swing reading the same book I was. Lucy, darling, I-”

Lucy cut Rosie off again but this time with a kiss. She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him towards her. She put everything she had into that kiss and she felt as Rosie responded in turn. His lips cautiously moved against hers and she felt a tingle run over her body by how carefully he cradled her face against his.

“Rosie. I really need to get to those pancakes.” Lucy finally said after a few long minutes of kissing. She muttered her words against his lips, feeling as Rosie chuckled and pulled away from here.

“Nothing is stopping you, milady.” Lucy huffed but turned back around. Savoring the feeling of the man that she loved cradling her as she fixed breakfast and took sips of her tea.

Rosie’s tastebuds ignited when he placed a slice of pancake in his mouth. The day was already starting to shape out to be a good one. He still felt like he was floating after Lucy’s admission only half an hour ago, now he just watched her in awe from across the kitchen table. She was also taking careful bites of her pancakes and stealing glances at him.

They had almost become more bashful than they had ever been, whenever they met eyes either Rosie or Lucy would immediately break eye contact. There was a comfortable tension between them that neither person felt necessary to break.

Once they had both finished their respective breakfasts, Rosie leant over and entwined their hands together. He watched as Lucy smiled adoringly at him and leaned over to peck his lips.

“Rosie… I- do you want to finish The Great Gatsby?” Lucy asked against his lips, staring at him intently. Rosie nodded and they both rose from their seats and walked over to the living room. Leaving the dishes for another time.

The morning was spent in a quiet comfort. Rosie’s voice echoed through the rooms of the house, although he frequently stopped his reading to press languid kisses to Lucy’s lips, or to caress the exposed skin of her arm. At the pace that he ended up going, he finished the book at about midday. When Rosie leaned over to place the book on the coffee table, he felt Lucy stir from his side and start to stretch out.

“I need to get changed, Rosie.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmm. I wanted to walk with you to the station and I can’t do that wearing a nightgown.”

“I wouldn’t be complaining.”

“I know you wouldn’t be, but do you truly want everyone else staring at me.” Rosie blinked up at Lucy from his position on the couch when realization dawned on him. “I thought so. Now busy yourself with something while I get changed.”

“Yes ma’am.” Rosie said with a sarcastic nod which had Lucy shaking her head at him before disappearing out of the door. 

Rosie took to scanning the living room he had basically lived in for the past few days. He wanted to commit it all to memory before he had to leave. At that thought, Rosie dragged a hand over his face - he was leaving in less than two hours and he was leaving her. How he wished he could take her with him and show her the planes that so fascinated her. Most of all he wanted this damned war to end so he could be in her arms for the rest of his life.

His fingers caressed the worn fabric of the couch he was sitting on, he felt more at home here than he had in a while. Rosie didn’t want to leave. He knew his duty and nothing would stop him from that, but how he wished it wasn’t like this. He wished he had met Lucy at a jazz bar, or at a bookstore, when war wasn’t a constant in both of their lives.

He wished the world was different, but unfortunately it wasn’t. All Rosie could do was keep coming back from missions, and now he had another reason to.

“Very well, how do I look?” Lucy’s voice almost made him jump, he had been so lost in his thoughts that Rosie hadn’t heard the creaking of the age old floorboards. He took a few moments to take in his beautiful Lucy. She was wearing a long light yellow dress with black flowers embroidered on the collar.

“You look radiant as always, my dear.” Rosie said, almost breathlessly as he rose from his spot on the sofa and walked over to her. He pressed a kiss to her lips, trying to memorize the feeling of her warm body against his.

“Hmm. Not that this isn’t wonderful, but we need to make lunch. And I wanted to make some sandwiches for your trip back.”

“You really don’t need to do that.” Rosie said as he pulled away from Lucy to look at her in surprise.

“I want to, now come.”

After a quick lunch, Lucy had disappeared into her study to write him a little note - leaving Rosie to do the dishes. She sat down at her desk and stretched her fingers before starting to type.

Dear Rosie,

I know you won’t read this until you get back, but I wanted you to have something to remember me by. I just wanted to say that I love you and I promise to write to you nearly every day and try to call you when I can because I’m not sure I will be able to survive without hearing or reading your words for a day.

You have turned my world into something I never expected. I never expected you, my darling. I wish we could spend more days like this weekend. I will never forget them, I will never forget you. I will always cherish these memories, until we are able to make new ones just like them.

I love you, my dear. Remember that when you’re flying your plane and have your head in the clouds.

All my love,

Lucy

With a final ding of the typewriter, Lucy pulled the paper out and blew a little on the ink before folding it into a neat rectangle. She grabbed Rosie’s copy of The Great Gatsby that had been hanging around the house for the past few days. Opening up the book she slipped the note in between the pages and then picked up her pencil to scribble her name on the inside cover page.

“Now what might you be up to?” Lucy swivelled around to find Rosie leaning on the doorframe. His arms were crossed and he seemed to have been standing there for quite a while.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t just slip something into my book.”

“Shhh, it’s supposed to be a secret. Be a dear and don’t open it until you get back.” Lucy said as she rose from her seat and placed the book into Rosie’s hands, an easy smile on her face.

“The suspense might kill me but I promise. When do you have to head back to London?”

“Tomorrow. I’m hoping for a new assignment.”

“I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”

“You better buy a copy of the paper once it’s published.”

“Don’t worry, I will be on the lookout for it.” Rosie’s arms now encircled her waist, and Lucy was sure she was staring at him like a lovesick idiot.

“We better get going if we want to catch your train. You still need to pick up your luggage.”

“I know, but this is much more preferable.”

“Rosie… don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Alright, alright.” Rosie’s hands rose in a defeated posture, making Lucy choke out a laugh.

“Come on.” 

Lucy followed after Rosie as she went to grab the necessary things for leaving the house. She slipped on her shoes and tied the laces while watching Rosie take in the last details of the hallway before he left. He looked contemplative and Lucy wondered what exactly he was thinking about.

Rosie’s curls were all messed up from a night on the couch and from Lucy’s constant tugging and rearranging of them. Lucy thought he looked ethereal standing there in wrinkled clothes and messy hair. For the billionth time she wished she was a painter so she could capture him just like that.

“Ready?” She finally asked. Lucy’s question made Rosie’s eyes travel to her and he gave her a nod before going to open the door.

It felt final to Lucy, she knew she would see him again but there was always a chance, a high chance, that he wouldn’t come back to her. Even if he had promised he would.

She waited outside of the B&B for Rosie to collect his luggage, she had taken to kicking a pebble on the sidewalk and staring at the cracks in the pavement. Watching as the little weeds crept through the cement.

“Lucy… I have everything.” Rosie’s tentative voice broke her out of her thought spiral, making Lucy look over to him to find that he had changed into his uniform and had tamed his curls. He looked handsome, somehow even more handsome than he had while he wore civies. His hat was under his left arm and he held his luggage in the other.

“Well don’t you look handsome?” Rosie rewarded Lucy with a bashful smile and a blush. “Aww, don’t go getting all shy on me now.” Lucy teased as she came up to him and carefully took the hat from under his arm and placed it slightly lopsided on his head. She wrapped her hand around his now free arm and leaned against his shoulder.

The walk to the train station was filled with easy chatter, Lucy was trying to avoid facing the fact that he was leaving (possibly forever) and that she would have to return to a house that would now be void of Rosie. The small platform greeted the pair all too quickly, the station clock showing that it would only be a few minutes before the train that would take Rosie far, far away from her would arrive.

“Rosie, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t- Lucy, I don’t want this to be goodbye.”

“But you’re leaving, Rosie.”

“I’ll come back.”

“Oh, Rosie, you can’t promise me that.” She smiled tightly at him, and threw her arms around his shoulder. Feeling as he quickly reciprocated the hug. Hot, burning tears started to race down her face.

“I know, I know I can’t, but I promise that I’ll keep trying to come back. To come back to you.”

“I’m going to miss you so much. I love you.” Lucy whispered against his chest, as she let out a choked sob. She felt droplets of water hit her head and she realized that Rosie was crying too.

“And I’m going to miss you, my dear Lucy. I love you too, so much.” Rosie said as he leaned closer to Lucy.

“Promise me you’ll write.”

“Every day. Here, this is my address at the base and the phone number.” Rosie quickly pulled a piece of paper and pencil from his bag and scribbled a note on there, adding a heart for good measure.

The distant sound of the train whistle had Lucy’s heart clenching. She quickly swept away her tears and took the paper from Rosie’s hands. She pulled him in for one last kiss. Feeling as the top of his hat bumped against her forehead and how his lips pressed against hers.

The train whistle got louder and louder, making the urgency of the kiss increase. It felt like a goodbye kiss. Lucy hoped she would get to experience it again but she also knew this might be the last time, so she memorized the pressure and love that seemed to be behind Rosie’s actions. They finally pulled apart, reluctantly, when the train slowed into the station.

“Goodbye, Lucy Everett. Don’t cry, my darling. I’ll always be here. In our memories and in the love you know I hold for you.” Rosie muttered, Lucy stared deep into his eyes and nodded.

“Goodbye, Rosie. I love you so so much, now go.” Rosie smiled sadly and then pulled away from her. Lucy watched as her dear Major stepped onto the train and turned to wave at her and blow her a kiss one last time. She smiled as tears ran down her cheeks and waved back, making her remember that first wave he had sent her all those days ago.

Rosie was back on the train, except this time it wasn’t boiling hot and he was feeling the deep pangs of an aching heart. He missed her so much already and it had only been two hours. He would be arriving in London soon where he would have to change trains to get back to base, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except stare at the piece of paper in his hands. He hadn’t opened it yet but he kept stroking the paper as if it would magically make Lucy appear in front of him.

He wanted desperately to ask the train to go back around, to abandon his life so he could run off into the sunset with his sweetheart but he had a job to do. A job which would keep her safe. So he spent the entire time on the train and then the jeep back to base thinking about Lucy’s silky curls and her ringing laughter.

Even Crosby seemed to notice something was up when he was quieter than usual at dinner. He tried to press him about it, but Rosie just brushed him off. Until he realized that Cros was now genuinely looking worried about him. 

“Crosby, I’m fine.”

“What the hell happened during your leave that has suddenly turned you into a grouch?”

“I met someone.”

“You met someone?” Crosby tentatively asked.

“A girl.”

“You met a girl?!”

“Crosby, goddammit, quiet down.”

“Jesus, sorry. So you met a girl?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And what? I met a girl, fell in love and now I’m dealing with the fact I might never get to see her again.”

“Did you give her your address? Wait- fell in love? Rosie, you scoundrel!”

“It isn’t like that, Cros.”

“Sure. But did you?”

“Yes, I gave her my address. I’m sure she’ll write-”

“There! You see, she loves you too right?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly, you need to stop overthinking this and just allow it to happen.”

“Crosby… I just- I promised I’d come back to her.”

“Then you better do it. You’re one of the best god damned pilots I know, Rosie. If anyone could do it, you can. You’ll make it back and you’ll make gorgeous babies with this girl of yours. What’s her name anyways?”

“Lucy Everett.”

part 2 part 3 part 4

so... thoughts? queries?

also here are the moodboards i've made so far: meet the oc lucy's outfits

there will probably be an epilogue of sorts and some little drabbles/fics scattered around the timeline so let me know if you want to be added to the taglist !!

taglist: @justheretoreadthhx @callumsgirl <33

[lanalvrr]

I'll come back to you

Major John "bucky" Egan x OC (louise)

Part 2 / summary: bucky, Curtis, and Harry have a place to stay now for a while, and Louise is swooning over major egan

Italics In quotes= french

Warnings : historical inaccuracies/language barrier/war/injuries

When she stepped in front of her mother, she noticed one of the men. He was taller than the other two men. He was wearing a torn up uniform, and his cap was gone. He had dark brown hair and a slight mustache. She had never seen anyone more handsome.

Even compared to all the boys that lived in the towns closest to her. No one compared to him.

"American?" She said to them men in a french accent. "Yes! Yes! American! We are not Germans! I'm Major John Egan with 100th bomb group from England. This is Luetinant Curtis Biddick and Major Harry Crosby. We need a phone to tell the men at our base that we are not dead!" The Major said. She blushed at his high-ranking. "Good luck with our phone. The wire gets bad out here, and Germans often tap it during war. Your best bet would be to write a letter." Louise said, facing john. " I can ask my father if you men could stay for a place to stay till you get this all sorted out." Bucky just nodded greatfully.

He saw her turn over to her father and say something. All the man did was nod and walk back into the house. The other lady and boy followed.

She walked up the steps to the porch, and they followed. " You boys don't have anything with you?" Louise said to them. "Just the clothes on us." Curtis said and received a glare from bucky. Bucky didn't know why he did it. It was like this french girl was his. And if she was, he wouldn't claim her.

They followed her through the house until they were in a room that looked like the living room. "I'll go talk to my father, I'm sure he'll be fine with it." With that, she walked up the stairs.

It was silent for a minute until Curtis coughed. "What was that look you gave me when I said something to her?" He said Harry butted in. "You're acting like you two are gonna fall in love, settle down, and have a family. You don't even know the danm girls name."Me and Harry, and all the men at the base know you would never do that." Curtis finished. "You guys got all of that from one look?" Bucky said. The two men just looked at each other for a second, looked back to bucky, and nodded.

Louise was walking back downstairs to tell the men what her father had said. She walked down the stairs slowly, not to creak the stairs. She got to the bottom of the stairs and saw that she had gotten the three men's attention. "My father said you may stay as long as you help with the chores." She paused. "You guys can follow me. I'll show you your rooms."

The 3 men followed the women whom all of them didn't know the name of yet. Bucky thought her voice sounded so sweet. It sounded as if an angel was speaking. He was pulled out of his thoughts when she abruptly stopped halfway down the hall way, she then spun around on the heel of her shoe and faced the men. "There are only two guest bedrooms, so you can figure that out. If you need anything, my bedroom is right there." She said the last part pointing at a bedroom at the end of the hall. The door was slightly open, and bucky could see a vanity with what looked like makeup, a hair brush, and other things he didn't know the name of.

Louise left the men and walked to her bedroom. She got out her diary out from under the bed and flipped to the next blank page. She always wrote in English, one so she cloud practice in case she had to write letters to a handsome pilot, and two, so her parents couldn't read what she wrote.

August 5th,

These pilots showed up to my house, and one of the men was very handsome. He is very tall and has a mustache. He doesn't even know my name yet, but my mother would never let me date anyone. She barely lets me go to town. Only if my brother is with me, but if he goes he's with a girl or his friends, and I don't want to go with them. More about the pilot. He has blue eyes that remind me of the sky in the summer. His hair is dark brown and he is very muscular.

Louise finished writing and closed the brown leathered diary and put the pen and diary under the bed.

[bcolfanfic]

According to studies, 16 veterans commit suicide per day. War is hell. It was an unspoken statistical probability that it would touch their circle at some point.

It was almost Bucky.

It wasn’t supposed to be Croz.

authors note: 1- this is a ‘side b’ young vets story, think of it like side b of a record. side a, where croz is alive and fine, is the main ‘canon’ of this au. 2- this fic was a huge labor of love for these characters and the struggles real people just like them face. i understand it might not be everyone’s thing, please please don’t read something that will only trigger you. but if you do read this i’d appreciate you sharing your thoughts. thank you for all y’alls support with this au so far. i love you <3

[claireelizabeth85]

Come Home To Me - Chapter 7

John Egan x OC Female

Summary: When the idea of a past life turns out it isn't just an idea or a dream.

Warning: Military inaccuracies, Lizzy needing a slap up the side of the head and Sarah being a badass MF. Other than that - enjoy.

AN: This is a work of fiction and is based on the TV characters from the Apple TV series. No disrespect is intended towards the real men of the 100th BG.

All previous chapters can be found here

--------------------------------------------

Sarah's sharp gaze cut through the bustling crowd, her eyes fixing on Abigail amidst the sea of faces at the air show. She quickly suited up, her movements sharp and determined. 

"You know, this could be considered stalking," Sarah snapped, the edge in her voice cutting through the noise as she confronted Abigail. The woman's presence was unsettling, her motives unclear.

Abigail's response was hesitant, her words failing to fully conceal her true intentions. "We... I just wanted to see you off. Make sure that everything goes well," she offered, her voice tinged with a hint of unease.

Sarah's eyes narrowed, she wasn't buying it, not convinced by Abigail’s faltering concern. “Listen, Abby, is it? If you don't want me to know who you are, that’s fine. But there's definitely something you're not telling me. So how about you come clean or stay out of my way? Sarah crossed her arms, waiting for a response, but Abigail remained silent, her apologetic expression betraying the depth of her secrets. 

Sarah's frustration mounted as she waited for a response, but none came. With a final, terse remark, she turned and walked away, leaving Abigail and her brother, Jonathan, who was approaching the two women, standing alone amidst the crowd.

Jonathan's confusion was palpable as he stepped out in front of his sister, blocking the view of Sarah's retreating figure. "What the hell was that all about, Abby?" he demanded, his tone tinged with exasperation. "You say we can't get involved, and yet you're out here handing out photographs and cryptic messages to GeeGee. How is that not getting involved?"

Abigail exhaled deeply, her gaze drifting back toward the airfield. "Because, Johnny," she began, her voice heavy with resignation, "GeeGee told me herself to do it. She told me to ensure that they both got on the plane, but also warned us to stay away from..." Abby gestured towards the B-17 and Lizzy’s arriving figure.

Jonathan's brow furrowed in confusion. "She told you to stay away from Nana? Why?"

Abigail sat down on a nearby bench, her eyes tracking Lizzy as she inspected the bomber. “For starters, GeeGee specifically warned me about letting you near her.”

“Me? Why?” Jonathan scoffed, disbelief lacing his words.

“Really, Johnny?” Abigail raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and seriousness. “Do you think she won’t recognize who you are, or at least who you’re related to? You’re the spitting image of Grandpa—tall, dark hair, those aviator sunglasses, and, let’s not forget, those big ol’ ears. GeeGee fears that if you get too close, Lizzy might back out from the flight. No one really knows what might happen if she doesn’t get on the plane, but it’s best for everyone if we keep our distance.”

Digging into her jacket pocket, Abigail pulled out two sealed envelopes, cursing under her breath when she saw what they were. “These are the flight plans. If all of this is going to work, we need to nudge them into place—one needs to go to the tower, and the other to the bomber.”

Jonathan extended his hand, ready to take on part of the task. “I’ll take one to the bomber, and you take one to the tower.”

Abigail hesitated, her grip on the envelopes tight. “I mean it, Johnny, not a damn word. Don’t go in there and screw this up.”

Pushing his sunglasses up, Jonathan flashed a reassuring grin. “I know, Abby. Don't worry, I got this.”

As Jonathan headed toward the bomber, Abigail watched him for a moment, a mix of hope and anxiety in her eyes, before turning to make her way to the control tower. Each step was heavy with the weight of their family history, threading the past with the present, as they both played their part in shaping the uncertain future.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lizzy's anxiety churned within her as she approached the beautifully restored B-17 Flying Fortress. Though she was intimately familiar with the controls, akin to muscle memory, the jittery unease persisted. Beneath the wing, she dropped her flight bag, her hands trembling slightly. Needing a moment to ground herself, she embarked on a walk around the aircraft. With each step, she peeled off her gloves, her fingers tracing the smooth metal surface, feeling every rivet and indentation. 

Despite the reassurances echoing in her mind — no troubles, no fear, no fighters, no flak — the anxiety persisted like a haunting echo. Restless sleep had plagued her the night before. She knew she needed to sleep so instead of it coming immediately, she tossed and returned. It seemed like only yesterday she had soared through the sky in these majestic beasts, yet the reality was starkly different, more than 80 years had passed.

"Jesus Christ, who the hell am I kidding" she muttered under her breath, the weight of uncertainty crashing over her like a tidal wave. Dragging her feet, she headed back to her flight bag, steeling herself for the talk with Sarah. Part of her was already tempted to bail on this crazy plan.

As she retrieved her stuff, Sarah and a member of the ground crew had arrived to start the external pre-flight checks.  Lizzy rubbed her face, trying to get rid of the fear and anxiety.  Sarah pulled her hand away and yelled in her ear if there was something wrong. 

“I don’t think I can do this Sarah! I can’t do….we’ve been through so much, you can’t expect me to do this on my own!” Sarah could see the panic in Lizzy’s face.  The noise of the planes around them and the people watching the airshow amplified everything. Sarah could barely hear what was being said until one of the ground staff handed her a set of headphones.

“Lizzy, look at me!” she grabbed her friend’s hand.  Lizzy looked the part.  She was dressed in an original flying suit, a dark brown, freshly cleaned sheepskin flying jacket and an original and serviced Mae West, topped off with gloves and her officer’s cap. 

“You need to get out of your own head! You’re right, we’ve been through so much; boys, uni, this crazy ass situation, but right now, I need you to be the brave, bad-ass pilot that I have read about. I know you can do this Liz! I’ll be right here, all the way.” 

Lizzy’s brain tried to focus on what was going on around her, the thrum of the planes around them all starting up and getting into position. It was only when she truly looked at Sarah did she realise her best friend was also suited up in full flying gear and Mae West. 

“Sarah! What are you doing?  You can’t come with me! You’ll leave everything behind!” Sarah shook her head.  “Do you really think i’m going to let you fight the fucking Nazi’s on your own?” Lizzy’s jaw hung lax at Sarah’s new found confidence. 

“Besides, we need to take this” Sarah handed over the final piece of the whole puzzle.  A small black and white photograph of Lizzy and Sarah standing in front of her original fortress. 

“What the fuck?!” Lizzy couldn’t take this all in. “You drop this on me NOW!” Sarah laughed, “Well, I thought no time like the present, or is it the past.  Anyway, there’s something else.  You need to give this back to someone.”  Sarah grabbed Lizzy’s hand and placed a tarnished silver cross on a delicate chain in her palm. “Where the hell did you get that? It’s…”

“John’s. I know! Turns out I’m a snooper and I had a rummage around your trunk!”  Sarah smiled.  She patted Lizzy firmly on the shoulder.  “We’ll do this together Liz, all the way.  But right now, we need you to get on the fucking plane Lieutenant!”

Lizzy watched as the ground crew brought a ladder over for them to climb onboard.  Sarah being inexperienced and vertically challenged, appreciated the gesture and climbed up and got herself sorted.  Lizzy waved it away.  “I’ve done this hundreds of times and never with a ladder.” Placing the silver chain over her head and kissing the cross, more because of the previous owner than a religious sentiment, she then threw her bag and cap through the catch.  Jumping up, Lizzy grabbed the inside top of the hatch and like a gymnast, curled herself up and into the bomber.  Asking the ground crew to keep the hatch open until all pre-engine start-up checks were complete, Lizzy made her way to the cockpit. 

Everything felt so familiar.  For the first time in days she felt truly at peace, at home even.  Climbing into the left hand seat with a wry smile, she started the pre-flight checks. Sarah had situated herself in the flight engineer’s seat just behind Lizzy. 

“Sarah, do we know who else is flying with us?” Sarah popped up over her shoulder, taking in the cockpit in a moment of awe.  “No I don’t, sorry.  Thought Geoff said that he was going to step in but he’s over at the tower.  Don would have been copilot but he’s not here.”  Lizzy attached her throat mic and started talking to the tower, requesting confirmation. 

“Tower, this is Queen Bee”, She waited for them to respond. “Geoff, who’s flying with me?”  The pause was followed by a sigh “well shit! I know I’m a good pilot but there’s no way I can get this bird off the ground on my own!” Lizzy sounded exasperated. “Because, you spanner monkey, it takes two pilots to get her off the ground and the last time I flew one of these things, I had the best pilot as a command pilot - and no I don't mean Don. ” Lizzy ran her hand over her face. “Yeah, yeah.  I can get Sarah to sit in the other seat.  There’s not much she needs to do.  Yeah, we’ll be fine.  No! Don’t you dare scrub us! I said we’ll be fine. Queen Bee out” 

Lizzy twisted around to look at Sarah.  “Guess you’ve been promoted, come and join me in my office!” As Sarah climbed her way into the cockpit and into the right hand seat, she stared around at all the switches and dials, her eyes wide with panic as though she was about to be tested and she hadn’t done the homework. 

“Erm, Liz, you know I don't know how to fly right?” Lizzy chuckled.  “Sure you do Tink, it’s either a case of flapping your arms really fast or you need to think of a wonderful thought!” The pair of them laughing at the stupidity of Lizzy’s joke eased Sarah’s nervousness. 

“There’s not much you need to do.  Here, put this round your throat, push either side to talk and you’ll need to put these on so you can hear the tower. Sarah got herself situated.  She could hear chatter over the radio. She remained silent, only replying when Lizzy required her assistance. Lizzy walked through the checks from memory, the actual list laying across her knees. Her final check was the fuel gauge. Humming to herself in contemplation of something, she made a note and placed the checklist to her right. 

Radioing to the Tower, Lizzy informed them they were ready for engine start up as all pre-flight checks had been done and the hatch could be closed. Sarah tried so hard not to fidget in her seat.  “I really hope you remember what you’re doing Lizzy, cos if you don’t, I don’t have a goddam clue and this’ll be the first crash of a B-17 in about 80 years.” 

Lizzy turned to her best friend, amazed that she was making the decision to come with her.  “I got this, don’t worry.  I will need your help in a minute to get us off the ground but I will coach you through it.  But once we’re in the air, you can sit back and check out the view.”

Interrupting their final checks, there was a call from the hatch and Abigail’s brother, Johnny, appeared at the entrance to the cockpit.  Sarah’s eyes narrowed, unhappy by his presence in the aircraft.  Johnny acknowledged them both and handed Sarah an envelope with the instruction “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL AIRBORNE” written across it in red capitals. 

“I’m here with your orders and flight plan ma’am.  Also, I’m to collect your signed pre-flight check-list”  Lizzy just stared at the man.  Her hand gripping the check-list as he tried to take it from her.  She couldn’t get over how familiar he looked.  She felt like she knew his name, that it was at the end of her tongue. Sarah wanted to know what was going on as well, considering she’d told them both to stay away. 

“Ma’am?  Are you finished with your list?” Sarah stared at the exchange and then nudged Lizzy’s knee to get her to focus.

“Erm no…yes of course. In fact, just one second, please” Lizzy checked the sheet and the fuel gauge again. 

“Tower, this is Queen Bee, over” Lizzy studied the checklist, her fuel gauge and the fuel gauge on Sarah’s side as she waited for their reply, 

“Queen Bee, this is Tower. Go ahead Lizzy, over.”

“Tower, Geoff, tell me again how much fuel I’m meant to have, over?” Lizzy didn’t need to do the maths, she knew how far she could get on her current tanks. She was currently sitting on enough fuel for 1700 miles. 

“Queen Bee, Lizzy you should have one full tank, over.'' She frowned, checked Sarah’s gauge to make sure that she wasn’t messing up the maths, and even the reserve gauge, which was flat. 

“Tower, you sure? Cos I’m looking at two full fuel tanks here.  You’re not planning on packing us off somewhere are you?” They both chuckled. “Geoff, we’re either gonna need to go first or last, cos we are heavy now.  We can take off with everyone else and stay in a holding pattern which is fine, cos I have the flight plan here. I’ll talk to you when we’re ready for take off.  Queen Bee out.” Lizzy made a final note on the check-list and handed it over. 

“Thank you.  Please tell the ground crew to stand clear and we’ll do the engine start up.” Johnny nodded acknowledging Lizzy’s request and shooting Sarah an apologetic smile and then turned to leave the cockpit, before looking over his shoulder, calling out to Lizzy.

“Lieutenant?”  Lizzy twisted in her seat. “Yes?” Lizzy took a moment to look at him. His short hair, cut in a modern military short back and sides style, he was clean shaven and there was just something about him that made him feel so  familiar. His face was beautiful, with angled cheeks and a strong jawline. His eyes were a gorgeous ocean blue that twinkled with mischief. His soft but defined cupid’s bow was prominent when he smiled at her. Lizzy tried to fit the pieces together from her mind to work out who he was, but he spoke before she could get her answer.

“I’ve been asked to remind you that you’re not to do any stupid shit” and before Lizzy, or Sarah, had the opportunity to say anything, Johnny was gone. 

As he slid out of the hatch, he knew he had gone against what Abigail said but he’d needed to talk to her, to see her in person, even if she didn’t know him. He remembered the stories from when he was a child, about how Nana was always reminded not to do anything stupid while Grandpa was at work. “It’s because she gets a little careless when I’m not around.” Johnny walked back towards the tower, a smug smile on his face, Abigail meeting him beside a replica jeep.

“What the hell was that all about?” Sarah asked, as Lizzy stared at the space Johnny had occupied. “I don’t….he knew…did you tell him?” Lizzy looked at Sarah, with a questioning eye. “Tell him what?” Lizzy realised that Sarah wouldn’t know.  “Nothing, never mind.” Shaking her head to clear her mind, Lizzy focused on the task at hand. 

Leaning out the window to her left, she acknowledged the ground crew waiting for her to start the fortress’ huge engines.  As both engines one and two spluttered to life and the cockpit started to vibrate, Lizzy relaxed both mentally and physically.  

Talking Sarah through what she needed to do with the choke for the engines on her side, all four were now humming.  Oh how she had missed that sound.  Even in her modern life, there had always been something missing, some piece of her that she couldn’t quite find.  This was it.  

“Tower this is Queen Bee, over” 

“Tower, go ahead Lizzy.” 

“We have four engines hot and ready to go.  Your guy dropped off the orders and flight plan and took our checklist. You decided if we’re first or last, over?” Lizzy watched as the ground crew stood themselves in clear view of her window. 

“Tower, We haven’t issued any orders or a flight plan Lizzy.  As far as we know, your checklist is still with you.”

She looked down at the clipboard and to her confusion, Geoff was right. She looked over at Sarah who still had hold of the envelope that said it should not be opened until they were in flight.  Sarah went to open it before Lizzy stopped her.  “Don’t open it. Not yet…it’s… bad luck.” Lizzy touched her throat. 

“Tower, my fault, the checklist is still here.  Can return it when we get back. Are we first or last over?” Lizzy wanted to get this going, the waiting and the apprehension were making her jittery. 

“Queen Bee - you’re the star of the show Lizzy, you’re up first. Have a good flight.  See you when you get back. Out.”  Lizzy pushed out a breath.  Finally, she thought. 

Giving the ground crew a thumbs, Lizzy eased off the brakes and gently pushed the throttle forward slowly rolling the aircraft forwards. She made slight adjustments with the brakes as she worked her way towards the runway.  

“This is it Sarah - now or never.” Sarah beamed a smile so wide, it went from ear to ear.  “You got this Liz. You just tell me what you need and I’ll try my best.”

“Tower, this is Queen Bee. Holding on the runway. Waiting for green, over.” Lizzy took a deep breath in.  There were no nerves to steady, just one of those things she always did.

“Queen Bee this is Tower. Green will appear to your west. Runway is yours. Good weather with clear sky and no haze. No aircraft in our space and holding pattern is at 10,000 feet. Good luck Liz. Tower out.” 

Seconds later, the green flare from the Tower lit up even in broad daylight. Lizzy gently guided Sarah’s hand to the co-pilot throttle.

“Nice and easy, we don’t want to be down the end of the runway and still be on the ground.  We’ll pick up enough speed and then when I say let go, start to gently pull back on the yoke.” 

Sarah, as instructed, started to call out the ground speed as Queen Bee started to gently thunder down the runway.  Lizzy, taking a last look out, caught sight of the man who had dropped off the flight plan. He was sitting on top of a replica army jeep, his feet crossed, leaning back on his hands.  A pair of aviator sunglasses protected his gaze from the afternoon sun. 

For a split second, Lizzy could have sworn it was John, waving at her.  She shook her head and refocused on the runway and their speed. Lizzy told Sarah to keep going and she released her throttle and started to pull back on the yoke.  

She could feel the wheels start to lift, pulling ever so slightly harder to bring the nose up and the stunning plane, beautifully restored, took flight as they climbed up into the clouds. 

Taglist:

@victoryrollsandredlips @bobparkhurst @prettyinlimegreenboots @ginabaker1666 @instructionsnotincluded @luminouslywriting @thedeviltohisangel

AN: If you enjoyed this chapter and want to gossip about it, then my DMs and asks are open, come and chat!

[trashbag-baby666]

Pilot-Firehouse au

Summary: There’s a new probie at Casper fd, Gale is one step closer to finding out who Rosies been going on dates with, welcome to the madness.

WC: 3,385

C/W: None!

au masterlist!

MOTA Masterlist!

John skipped through the fire department a pink box of donuts in his hand. Most people would probably ask what’s got you in a good mood? But no one batted an eye at John, because this is just how he carries himself all the time, aspiring to put a smile on all his crew's faces. Today it would be with donuts tomorrow it might be dad jokes.

“Morning, Bucky.” Curt wiped his hands on his pants and took the powdered sugar donut out of the box, “Chicks got a probie in the office. Told me to send you in when you got here.”

“Sounds good,” John nods, heading up the metal, red steps and going into Chicks office. A brown haired man sitting on the opposite side of Chick, his eyes wide with excitement. Fresh out of the academy and ready for some real action.

“Morning chief, donut?” John held the box out.

“Yes please, thank you, Captain. John, this is Captain Egan. One of the finest firefighters CFD has ever seen.”

“We’ve got another John?” He raised an eyebrow leaning over slightly to see the file on Chicks desk, “John Brady, how do you like Brady?”

“I…uh.”

“Come on, Brady, wouldn’t wanna be late for the morning stretch circle.” John called, bouncing down the steps, Brady scattering after him, “Guys this is our new probie, Brady.”

“Fresh blood, huh?” Dougie leaned on the fire truck

“This is Dougie and…” John looked around for a moment, “Where’s your Missus?”

“I ain’t anyone's missus,” the lengthy blonde came from around the front of the truck, eyeing up Brady.

“And this is Howard but everyone calls him Hambone, maple long john for you.” John plucked the donut out of the box and handed it to the blonde, “I’m putting Brady with you guys today, so please be nice to him…Brady, good luck with the hazing.”

“You’re ours now, pretty boy.” Dougie put a strong hand onto his shoulder, shaking him lightly.

“Come on stretch time, boys.” Curt clasped his hands together grabbing the attention of everyone, quickly being overshadowed by the loud siren that began to ring, “Nevermind.”

“Suit up, Brady!” John clapped him on the back, offering a small crack of a smile.

—---------

Gale’s all too familiar with the sounds of too many voices all at once on top of the constant voices on the intercom paging doctors, the occasional groan, the clacking on keyboards. The sound of the Casper, Wyoming ER became nothing but white noise for him, “good morning, doctor.” Rosie stood against the counter in the breakroom. His words okayest doctor thermos in hand, a small smile on his lips.

“Morning, doctor.” Gale opened his locker, “How’re you this morning?”

“Doing just fine.”

“So I take it the date went well?”

“Oh, how did it go?” Croz pushed open the break room door, his stuffed to the brim tote bag over his shoulder eyebrows wide with curiosity.

“It was fine guys, but I don’t kiss and tell.” Rosie put his hands up in defense. Croz and Gale had been trying to crack the code into Rosies love life since late med school when they met Croz during their residencies. But he kept it a secret from them and wasn’t budging still.

“You’re no fun, Rosie, who else are me and Gale supposed to gossip about?”

“Linda from HR. No, I’m kidding, gossip about me wouldn’t be very much fun anyways, but he did meet Freddie last night.” Rosie glanced at the two of them as he walked towards the door.

“Oooooh,” Gale snickered, getting to meet Freddy was a big deal. Rosie didn’t let just anyone meet his elderly deaf cat with separation anxiety.

“Sorry I gotta get back to it,” Rosie put his hand on the door handle shooting them a wink.

“I’m glad he’s found a guy, this was their…fourth date I think he mentioned the other day?” Gale and Rosie had met their freshman year of college since they were roommates. Then they just never separated and lived together all the way up until John asked Gale to move in with him.

“Me too,” Croz sighed, putting his bag away, “How was Delia’s game yesterday?”

“Great! She almost had a home run, but they did win, six to five!”

“Sorry, we couldn’t make it, Junie got sent home from the day camp yesterday with a fever.” Gale knew Croz and his husband Bubbles kept very busy with their four kids.

Hell, Gale only had two kids and they kept very busy.

“That’s alright, how high was the fever?”

“Hundred and one I think she sweated it out last night. She was drippin’ this morning when I woke her up.”

“Hopefully it passes fast. It makes me so sad when the girls are sick.”

“Me too, hopefully we can contain her germs to herself and we don’t have a house outbreak.” Croz rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The last thing any of them needed was a Crosby family sick outbreak that could possibly spread.

———————

Brady squeezed the excess water out of the sponge and back into the bucket of soapy water. Pressing the sponge back into the truck. After the call John had asked Ham, Dougie, and himself to wash the truck. But the other two had long since abandoned ship , leaving him by himself.

“Dougie and Ham ditch you?”

“Jesus,” Brady put a hand out on the truck turning to see John with that same smirk from earlier on his face. Bending down he grabbed the other sponge out of the bucket.

“Curt used to do the same shit to me. I promise they’ll like you, they do this to everyone.”

“How long did Curt, y’know…? Harass you for being the new guy?” Brady scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Oh I don’t know, I think a good month, till I saved his ass from a burning building.”

“Oh.”

“How old are you, kid?”

“Twenty four, sir.”

“Well you’re aging me specially with the sir, no need for this sir and captain bullshit. Just call me Bucky, everyone else does.”

“Okay, capt…Bucky.” A moment of silence passed between the two of them. Brady just hoped he was doing everything right like he had been taught in the academy.

“Got a special someone in your life?”

“Oh, uh, no. I haven’t met the right one yet…there weren't a lot of options in Sundance. Thought I’d have a better shot since I play for both teams.” Brady chuckled dryly hoping he wouldn’t be ostracized for his sexuality here.

“Amen to that one! I thought I’d be single for the rest of my life, till I met my husband.”

“How long have you guys been married?”

“We actually just celebrated our tenth anniversary last week.” John snickered.

“Well congratulations, do you have any kids?”

“Yeah, we’ve got two girls. My oldest will be 13 next week and our youngest is seven.”

Brady felt a hole of anxiety in his chest begin to fill itself back in knowing there was at least another lgbt member in the firehouse. He kept it to himself at first in the academy, he didn’t want a stigma to follow him.

Brady picked his head up at the sound of a dog barking, meeting the sight of a white and light gray husky in a service dog vest dashing towards John. “Oh hello there, Meatball!” John scratched the husky behind his ear, “This is Meatball, the hundredths mascot and staple.”

“Is this the new probie?”

“Yep,” John clasped a hand on Brady’s shoulder squeezing gently, “Brady, this is our driver engineer Benny Demarco, he’s Meatball's other half.”

“I’m not married to him, I promise.”

“Did you look into the tax benefits for it?” John asked, tilting his head and putting his hands on his hips.

“Nice meeting you, Brady.” He held out his hand for him to shake.

“Nice meeting you, I look forward to working with you.” Brady shook his hand, his grip tight and firm.

“Come on Meatball,” Demarco headed up the steps to Chicks office, the husky behind him.

“So,”

“Hm?” Brady’s eyebrow raised.

“Me and Benny are good friends, but he won’t tell us a thing about this person he’s seeing. If you can figure anything out let me and Curtie know.” John squeezed Brady’s shoulder again delivering a small shake.

So John is chronically nosy?

———————————

“Fancy seeing you here, we gotta stop running into each other like this.” Curt leaned against the open door of the ambulance.

“Hey, Curtie.” Ken looked up from where he was writing down his report, “Did you ask Bucky if we're still coming over for dinner?”

“Yes we are.”

“Awesome, I felt bad we had to leave right after the game.” Ken set his clipboard down standing up taking Curt’s hand then jumping out of the back of the ambulance.

“Yeah, the girls were all excited. I'm bringing them popsicles to Friday's practice, today we gotta lock in on fielding.” Ken smiled while watching Curt talk with his hands. He loved getting to coach Cordelia’s rec league softball team. Curt also stayed busy playing on the firehouses softball league Bucky coached. He didn’t play anymore only because he tore his ACL a few years back.

“I know I was so proud of them! You tell them I said that.” Ken placed his hand on Curt’s chest, “You’ve been working out?”

“Sure have sugar,” Curt pulled him in by the belt loops. He could stare at Curt all day and make this his full time job. Curt moved in with Ken a couple months ago and things had been going pretty well.

“Curt, what are you doing?” John furrowed his eyebrows coming around the truck.

“I was just saying hello to the wife,” Curt kissed Ken’s cheek, “See you at home, Kenny.”

“Bye Curtie, bye John.” Ken waved and shut the back doors of the ambulance.

“I saw you and Buck making out against one of the trucks the other day. So you got nothin’ on me, Johnny.” Curt shook his head walking after him.

“You know too much about me for me to become an enemy of Curtis Biddick. I was just coming to tell you we were leaving.”

It was true, when John dropped out of college halfway through his second year. He got in his car and started driving. He got to the Wisconsin/Minnesota border and decided to just keep going. Drove all the way to Casper, Wyoming in two days, decided to stop for a drink and then never looked back.

“I don’t want you as an enemy,” Curt shrugged his jacket back on as they got back to the truck.

“Good, because then I would have to kill you.” The two of them climbed back in the truck, “How’re you liking it, Brady?”

“I like it sir- uh, Bucky.” He cleared his throat and clasped his hands together looking down.

“Loosen up kid, I’m glad you like it.” John sat across from him.

“You’ve been doin’ a just fine job. I know you’ll fit right in.” Curt had seen a dozen or so of guys through their probie phases at the firehouse. He did in fact haze John after he convinced him to join the academy. John and Curt both saw Dougie and Ham through their probie period together. Brady seemed like a good kid and determined to become the best firefighter he can be.

————————

Gale: I’m on lunch, just thought I’d check in if you or Flynn needed anything from the store. If you make anything please clean it up so I don’t have to clean before making dinner. 🤗🤗

Cordelia: ok

Gale sighed, setting his phone back on the breakroom table stabbing a crispy piece of lettuce out of his salad. “I don’t like this tweenage thing.”

“Delia?” Rosie hummed through his bite of sandwich

“Yeah the other day she looked at me like I killed her cats because I asked her to help me pick up dinner.” Gale rubbed the bridge of his nose. He and John both had been coming to terms that Cordelia did not in fact hate them. She just wasn’t their little girl anymore and wanted more independence and they could respect that.

“Has the attitude started yet?” Croz could probably offer the best advice out of any of them. Their oldest was a couple years older than Cordelia, “The first time Astrid actually raised their voice at us we were so distraught.”

“A little bit,” Gale sat back in his seat rubbing at the gold band on his finger, “I’m beginning to think about bringing back timeouts for her too.”

“Sometimes it’s better to let them cool off in their room. I remember this age, hormones flying, your body changing, everything seems like the biggest deal of your life.” Croz definitely had the most confidence in his parenting out of the group. But I guess you do probably have to carry confidence with your words when you have four kids to wrangle around.

“I told my parents to shut up one time at that age…it did not go over well.” Gale could imagine a younger Rosie telling that to Mama Rosenthal. Followed by her most certainly chewing him out in Yiddish and sending him to his room.

It’s not that Gale is insecure about his parenting, it's that he doesn’t want to be like his father. He wasn’t like his father at all. It’s the one thing Gale brought up when they first talked about kids, “John, what if I turn into him?” “That’s not going to happen. You’re nothing like him, Gale.” John was right, Gale wasn’t his father. The apple didn’t even fall from that tree.

“It’s at least a little nice to hear that this is at least some right of passage event.” Gale cleared his throat. He didn’t really get a chance to have that, he grew up at far too young of an age. He had spent his entire childhood taking care of his father and avoiding the swinging hands that came at him. The rundown apartment in northern Casper, the cigarette burned couch with the cans and bottles littering any surface available. He knew his only way out and he took it and ran.

Now he had his own family, he had his firehouse family from John's side and he had Rosie and Croz from his side. He had to remind himself, he in fact is doing better than he ever thought he would.

————————

There’s a lot of things that are staples in the Cleven household. but the one that never missed was the barking every time someone was at the door. Scooby would jump up his loud howl carrying alerting Chili that maybe he needs to start barking too; although, his didn’t carry the same way Scoobys did.

“Guys!” Gale scolded the dogs from the kitchen.

“It’s us,” Ken sang as they came inside toeing off his shoes. His prized Apple pie in his hands, Curt not far behind him, “Hi Scooby.”

“Uncle Curt!” Flynn came flying out of the kitchen and jumped into his arms.

“Hey, Flynn.” Curt spun her around, “How was your ball game?”

“Good! I got a couple good hits! Papa said we could practice tomorrow.” Flynn quite literally fell from the John Egan tree though. Not only did she have the same blue eyes and dark brown curls but the same sass and humor. Oh yeah, and the lifelong passion for baseball but ‘specifically the yankees’.

“I’ll see if I have time to stop over and I can toss you some balls. Sounds good?”

“Yes! You’re the best Curt.” Flynn wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight.

“No you’re the best, Flynn. Why don’t we go help your dads set the table?”

Flynn nodded, Curt setting her down and she took off for the dining room attached to the kitchen.

“Delia, why don’t you take Ken with you to grab some drinks.” Gale nudged her from across the kitchen island.

“Okay,” she rolled her eyes with that sharp tone in her voice.

“I don’t like that attitude,” John popped his hip out resting his hands on his hips.

“I don’t like your attitude, Pa.”

Gale looked between the two of them having their nightly ‘drama queen competition’ as Flynn called it. Cordelia let out an irritated grunt stomping to the connecting door to the garage.

“Teenagers are fun,” Curt snickered.

Ken sat on the steps next to the fridge in the garage while Cordelia dug out the last can of Arnold Palmers for Curt.

“Is everything going alright, hun?”

“Yeah, it’s just, everything feels like…I don’t even know.” She handed the can of tea to Ken and shut the fridge door sitting back on her knees.

“That’s part of growing up, unfortunately. Do you wanna talk about anything?” At those words Cordelia looked down at her hands bashfully, a small smirk that resembled Gales following.

“Well, okay but you can’t tell dad and Pa.”

“Deal,” Ken rested his head in his hands.

“There’s this girl on my team, her name is Mel.”

“Does Curt know?” Ken interrupted her momentarily.

“No, we just started talking last week. She’s staying over with some of my other friends on Saturday.”

“I hope you have fun. But make good decisions,” Ken picked up the drinks off the steps next to him.

“Don’t worry, we haven’t even held hands yet. I can’t tell if pa would be upset that I’m dating or start crying?”

Ken let out a small chuckle, there's a good chance both could happen. Curt told him that when Cordelia had taken her first steps John broke down crying. He also cried when she turned one, he wasn’t ready for his little girl to be in such a rush to grow up still.

—-----------

John let out a loud yawn stretching his arms above his head, his shirt coming up just slightly. Gale leaned over, poking his stomach softly sending John into a loud laugh falling onto the bed right on top of Gale. “Did you have a good day at work?” Gale felt his cheeks heat red him and John were nose to nose.

“Yeah, we have a new probie at the station. Seems like a good kid. How about yours, Doctor Cleven ” John smiled because he knew exactly how to get Gale all flustered.

“Well, Captain Egan, I did have a good day. Today I found out Rosie went on a fourth date with that guy and he brought him to his apartment and let him meet Freddie.” He was pleased with himself that John's cheeks were now flush and he looked down slightly, just from calling him captain.

“Ooooh, do you know his name?.” John rolled off of him climbing under the blankets. He loved some good, who's dating who gossip? Someday he could be just as bad as Cordelia.

“No, that’s all he’s told us. We should find a time to go out and tell Rosie to bring him.”

“Good god, Buck. You’re just as bad as me and Delia!” Wrapping his arms around Gale he pulled him into his chest.

“Exposure therapy,” Buck giggles, turning his head to meet John's sparkly eyes. They laid there for a moment just basking in the energy of an amazing sixteen years together.

“Can you believe we’ve been married for ten years?” John rested his chin on Gale's shoulder, “Together for 16.”

“I know it’s gone so fast.” Gale tangled his hands into John’s pressing his back into John’s warmth.

“Next thing we know it’s going to be our 60th anniversary and Delia and Flynn are going to put us in a home.”

“Don't remind me,” Gale sighed, tipping his head back against John.

“At least we’re a long way from retirement?” John kissed Gales neck, truthfully he’d work forever if that’s what it took to keep this little life. He couldn’t imagine anything better than this, he was married to the absolute love of his life, “Well, maybe we should use my sexy firefighter body to our advantage.”

Gale mentally rolled his eyes with a smile on his face, John’s cheesy flirting never getting old. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

——————

Thanks for reading!! Hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs highly appreciated! <3

[winniemaywebber]

It's Been A Long, Long Time • Part 3

🌹 Uncle Rosie 🌹

read previous part here

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @archival-hogwash

“Goodnight, you two!” you say as you watch your friends leave the room, Harry's arm wrapped around his wife. The look on their faces as they realize they get to share a bed for the first time in weeks because you're there to help sends a warm glow through your body. Happy to be here, yet missing home, you decide to call your Ma before it gets too late. The baby is dozing softly in the bassinet next to Croz's armchair and you tiptoe out of the room to ensure he isn't woken.

Dialing the number on the phone in the hall, you wait patiently.

“Rosenthal residence,” a voice says.

“Ma,” you reply, happy to hear her. “It's me. Just wanted to let you know I got here safe.”

“Well, I'm glad to hear it, Robbie. How are the Crosbys?”

“Oh, they're great, Ma. Being excellent parents just like I knew they would be. I'm helping em out tonight, making sure they get a good rest together.”

“That's wonderful, son. I'm glad you're there to help.”

“Me, too. Now, Ma,” you begin nervously. “If the baby wakes up…what do I do?”

“Robert,” she sighs, instantly exasperated. “Did you make your poor, dear friends think you had it handled?” You pause, nervous to respond.

“Y-yes,” you finally stutter out. “But they need their rest and I couldn't leave them exhausted like that and I–”

“Son, it's easy. Change the diaper, heat the milk.”

“R-right…easy,” you pause again, shifting from one foot to the other. “How do I heat it?”

“Leave it in the bottle and put that in a pot of boiling water on the stove. Keep an eye on it. Not too hot, you don't want to burn the little fella's mouth, now. You'll be fine. It'll be good practice for you when your time comes with Josephine.”

At the mention of her name, you hear a cheeky cackle in the background. You smile at the sound, your heart suddenly beating ten to the dozen at the thought of her beautiful smile, how her eyes crinkle whenever she laughs at one of your terrible jokes. 

“Did she come for dinner?”

“Yes, son. She's spending the night, too. Nobody to take her home and I don't want her getting a cab at this hour.”

“That's sweet, Ma. Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Hold on just a minute…” there's a pause on the other end of the line until you hear your mother attempting to whisper.

“He's with the baby…yes, he seems to be in over his head,” you hear her laugh.

“Ma!” you shout over the line, eyes squeezed shut. “Don't tell her!” With that, the baby begins to wail from the next room and you sigh. “Ma, I have to go. The baby.”

“Good luck, Robbie. Josephine sends her love.”

“And I send it right back. G'night.”

Placing the phone into its cradle, you rush along the padded carpet to tend to the baby. 

“Hey, hey buddy,” you say as you reach him, hands going to lift him from his bed. “How's it goin’?” You coo, hoping you're able to calm him easily. Stroking his head with your gentle hand, he seems to relax instantly. “Huh,” you say, carrying on the movement. “Piece of cake.” 

Not quite asleep yet, you carry the baby in your arms over to the record player. Flipping through the Crosby record collection with your free hand, you find one that catches your eye. “Now this,” you murmur to the small child in your arms, his big brown eyes - exactly like his father's - gazing up at you as you place the record on the player one-handed, “is good jazz, little Croz.” 

The sounds of Artie Shaw softly blare through the room, you sitting down in the armchair. 

“Did you know,” you begin, looking at the baby's sweet face. “Now, I dunno if your Pop told you this yet. But there was a mission where me and my crew were completely alone. I don't mind telling ya, kid, I was petrified - who are you gonna tell, after all?” You muse on that for a moment. “Okay, maybe you'll tell your father, but that's fine by me. Anyway, completely alone, nothing but blue sky in front of me and my co-pilot. All I could think to do was to hum along to this.” You carry on telling the story as the music swells, rambling on about how all you could think of was getting back to base in one piece, being able to be back home for your Ma and your sweet Josephine. 

“That's Aunt Jo, by the way, kid. The second I marry her, I'm bringing her to see you. She's dying to see you, pal, and your sweet mama. So was I. We best buddies now? What d'ya say? Uncle Rosie pass the test?” At that final sentence, the baby's eyes close and he's softly snoring on you, his head burrowing into your chest. You feel your heart swell, tears suddenly pricking your eyes. You think back to that New Year during the war, where you'd written to Josephine, promising her the world, whatever she chose. Holding your friend's sleeping infant in your arms makes you realize that you want life to look like this with her.

You lay the baby down in his bassinet, the music softly playing in the corner of the room helping to soothe him, and you make your way back to the telephone. Dialing the number for home, you wait as the line rings. 

Hello?” A voice, thick with tiredness and hoarse from laughter. “Robbie?”

"Darling,” you breathe out, the sound of her sweet voice almost making you fall to your knees. Composing yourself, you carry on. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

“How's our nephew?” she coos, her voice up an octave. 

“He's fine, my love. Has eyes just like his Papa. Hair like his Mother. Angelic face just like his Aunt Jo.”

"Oh, stop,” she teases. “How did you get on in the end? Your ma said you sounded quite panicked.”

“It was fine. Pretty easy, actually.” You take a deep breath in, preparing yourself for what you're about to say next. “I just wanted to reiterate what I meant in that letter, that new year. Being here has made me realize it more. Jo, I want to give you everything. A family, a herd of kids. Anything you want.”

“Darling…” she murmurs. “Then hurry up and marry me. I'm impatient.” You laugh, switching the phone to your other ear. 

“Besides,” she carries on. “Judging by your panic, I think we should wait a little longer to talk about having kids.”

You sigh, playfully. “But we can still practice making ‘em, right?”

“Robert, your mother is stood right next to me.”

“Oh–uh…uh oh.” Luckily, you hear your sweetheart giggle as she struggles to come back to normal.

“I love you, darling,” she whispers. “Goodnight.”

“I love you, sweetheart. I'll be dreaming of you.” 

“And me. Bye, Robbie.”

The phone clicks as you hear a tiny cry from the living room, the record having ended. Putting the phone back in its place, you walk back to the room, excited to share more anecdotes with your new best friend. 

thank you to @ginabaker1666 and @sagesolsticewrites for reading this over and over to make sure it was PERFECT 🥰

masterlist

[samwinchesterslostshoe]

Masterlist

Hello! My name is Avalon, I am a 19 year old art student from Holland with to much time on their hands and part of more fandoms then I can count ;)

Some things about me: I love to paint, draw and knit! I have a deep love for history, architecture and anything 40’s 50’s related!

This blog it my little getaway from the real world, I love sharing my stuff on here with people that love these characters with the same love and enthusiasm as I do and interacting with people and other amazing artist💜

In the little free time I have left from doing actual homework for art school, I like to draw characters from movies and shows that I love.

These include:

Band of brothers

Supernatural

Twin peaks

Rdr2

The last of us

And many more!

I am always open for requests, DM’s and messages!

X

Band of Brothers fanfic:

Denouement: David Webster x Female OC

Band of brothers icons:

Alton more

Ronald Spiers

Chuck Grant

Eugene Roe

David Webster

Band of brothers moodboards:

Easy Ranch - Pat Christenson

Easy Ranch - Bill Guarnere

Skinny Sisk and Shifty Powers - Taylor Swift

Ronald Spiers x Nurse

Soft Spiers

Eugene Roe

Band of brothers fan art:

George Luz sketch

Lewis Nixon sketch

Liebgott sketch

Lewis Nixon x J.C Leyendecker

Ronald Spiers

Liebgott and Webster

Webster pencil drawing

Malarkey pencil drawing

Stupid pigeon meme (aka Spiedgon)

The Pacific

Eugene Sledge doodle

Eugene Sledge drawing

Masters of the air

Harry Crosby drawing

1917

Blake and Schofield drawing

Detroit: Become Human

Connor

Marcus

6 Characters fan art challenge

Week 1: Gale Cleven

My taglist: @ronsenthal @whollyjoly @next-autopsy @luckynumber4 @barbeygirl @dustyjumpwingz @xxluckystrike @heystovepipeboys @sweetxvanixlla @kafka-ohdear @footprintsinthesxnd @panzershrike-pretz @iceman-kazansky @bucky32557038ww2

[maaarine]

MBTI Typing Index: Fictional Characters — ISTP ESTP ISFP ESFP

Fictional characters: NF, NT, SJ, SP. Real people: index.

—

ISTP

Better Call Saul: Mike Ehrmantraut, Nacho/Ignacio Varga

Breaking Bad: Mike Ehrmantraut

Brokeback Mountain: Ennis Del Mar

Drive: Driver

ER: Abby Lockhart

Friday Night Lights: Tim Riggins

Game Of Thrones: Sandor Clegane, Osha

(The) Girl with the Dragon Tattoo: Lisbeth Salander

(The) Good Wife: Kalinda Sharma

(The) Hunger Games: Katniss Everdeen

Jessica Jones: Jessica Jones

(The) Last Kingdom: Brida

Malcolm in the Middle: Reese

Mindhunter: Debbie Mitford

Money Heist (La Casa de Papel): Marseille, Bogota

Nana: Nana Osaki

(The) OC: Ryan Atwood

Ozark: Ruth Langmore

Skam: Isak

Skyfall: James Bond

Taxi Driver: Travis Bickle

(The) Tunnel: Elise Wasserman

(The) Wire: Kima Greggs, Michael Lee

X-Men: Wolverine

Y: The Last Man: Agent 355

—

ESTP

(The) Bear: Richie Jerimovich, Michael Berzatto

Better Call Saul: Jimmy McGill

Black Swan: Thomas Leroy

Breaking Bad: Saul Goodman

(The) Crown: Philip

Dallas Buyers Club: Ron Woodroof

Downton Abbey: Jimmy Kent

ER: Gregory Pratt

Fight Club: Tyler Durden

For All Mankind: Molly Cobb, Tracy Stevens

Friday Night Lights: Smash

Game Of Thrones: Bronn, Yara Greyjoy

Gilmore Girls: Logan Huntzberger

Gone with the Wind: Rhett Butler

(The) Good Wife: Will Gardner

Industry: Harper Stern

(The) Last Kingdom: Uhtred, Finan, Leofric

Malcolm in the Middle: Francis

Marvel Universe: Star Lord

Men In Black: Jay

(Les) Misérables: Thénardier

Money Heist (La Casa de Papel): Berlin

(The) Mummy: Rick O’Connell

(The) OA: Steve Winchell

One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest: McMurphy

Queer As Folk: Stuart Jones

Rome: Mark Antony

Rush: James Hunt

Scarface: Tony Montana

Sister Act: Deloris Van Cartier

Sex and the City: Samantha Jones

Skam: Chris

Skins: Cook, Liv

(The) Sopranos: Tony Soprano

Sound of Metal: Ruben

Star Wars: Han Solo, Poe Dameron

(The) Wire: Jimmy McNulty, Avon Barksdale

(The) Wolf Of Wall Street: Jordan Belfort

—

ISFP

(The) Bear: Carmy Berzatto

Blue Is The Warmest Color: Adèle

Boyhood: Mason

(The) Bridge (Bron/Broen): Henrik Sabroe

(The) Crown: Diana Spencer

(The) Curious Case of Benjamin Button: Benjamin Button

Downton Abbey: Daisy Mason

ER: Luka Kovač

Friday Night Lights: Matt Saracen

Game Of Thrones: Jon Snow, Gilly

Harry Potter: Harry Potter

Jessica Jones: Malcolm Ducasse

Money Heist (La Casa de Papel): Helsinki, Moscow

(The) Last Kingdom: Osferth

(The) OC: Marissa Cooper

Skam: Yousef

Skins: Freddie

Star Wars: Anakin Skywalker

(The) Wire: D’Angelo Barksdale

—

ESFP

Bloodline: Danny Rayburn

Breaking Bad: Jesse Pinkman

(The) Bridge (Bron/Broen): Martin Rohde

Bridget Jones’s Diary: Bridget Jones

(The) Crown: Margaret

(The) Curious Case of Benjamin Button: Daisy

Downton Abbey: Mrs. Patmore, Rose MacClare

Dragon Ball: Goku

For All Mankind: Gordo Stevens

Friday Night Lights: Tyra Collette

Friends: Joey Tribbiani

Game of Thrones: Arya Stark, Ygritte

(The) Good Wife: Veronica Loy

Harry Potter: Ron Weasley

Hope Gap: Grace

(The) Hour: Verda Rowley

Malcolm in the Middle: Hal

Masters of Sex: Betty

Money Heist (La Casa de Papel): Tokyo, Denver

My Mad Fat Diary: Rae

Ozark: Ben Davis

Parenthood: Crosby Braverman

Rome: Titus Pullo

(The) Secret History: Bunny Corcoran

Se7en: Mills

Skam: Eva, Eskild

(The) Sopranos: A.J. Soprano

Squid Game (Ojing-eo Geim): Seong Gi-hun

Titanic: Molly Brown

(La) Vie En Rose: Edith Piaf

Winning Time: Earvin “Magic” Johnson

(The) Wire: Namond Brice

—

Fictional characters: NF, NT, SJ, SP. Real people: index.

[bloodynereid]

Interlaced

part 3 of Those Sunlit Kisses! you can find part 1 here, part 2 here and part 4 here.

pairing: robert 'rosie' rosenthal x fem! oc (lucy everett)

warnings: mentions of war, kissing, alcohol drinking, literal sleeping together, some allusions to sex (but it's very minor!), very fluffy

description: when lucy and rosie are finally reunited.

a/n: so... part 3 yay! once again i STRONGLY encourage you to read part 1 and 2 first because you will be very lost without those. i loved getting to explore this little universe i've created and i hope you all enjoy it. ALSO this is about the show's characters and not the real people.

look at that beautiful man ahhhh

Lucy was tapping away at the window frame as the countryside rushed past her. She could barely contain her excitement. It may only be for two days but Lucy couldn’t wait to see her beloved Rosie again.

A stupid grin encapsulated her face and she tried to suppress it so the woman in front of her didn’t think she was absolutely insane.

The entire ride there Lucy was thinking about those damn curls, that mustache and Rosie’s accent. It had been too long since she had seen him and now that it was finally happening all she could feel was pure joy.

Lucy started to feel the train slow down and houses appeared lining the tracks. The name of the town flashed by her and she quickly focused on any of the signs that might appear. Diss read one of them and Lucy almost let out a squeal of happiness. She quickly closed her book and stuffed it into her carpet bag, closing the clasps just as the train eased into the station.

The cool breeze greeted Lucy once she had stepped off the train, looking around at the throngs of people at the station. Realistically she knew that Rosie might not be able to pick her up, but at least he would have sent someone.

“Lucy!” A voice came from somewhere on her right causing Lucy to twirl around and come face to face with the man she loved.

“Rosie!” She squealed and quickly ran over to him, she heard him laugh when she threw her arms around his shoulders, her bag abandoned at her feet and energy coursing her body. The feeling of his arms around her brought a wider smile to her face and Lucy turned her head so she could press a kiss to his temple, shrieking as Rosie picked her up and twirled her around.

“I’m so happy to see you, darling.” Rosie muttered into her hair, easing her down to the concrete. Lucy pulled away momentarily to look at her beautiful man before cautiously pressing her lips to his.

It felt like coming home. Lucy felt Rosie press her closer to him as the kiss turned sweeter and sweeter. The feeling of his hand coming to cup her cheek almost had Lucy combusting.

“Rosie.” She breathed out once they separated, Lucy stared deep into his beautiful blue eyes and a wave of calm encased her body.

“Lucy.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

“Uh sir? You said you wanted to get back in time for the-” An officer’s voice interrupted their moment and Lucy quickly stepped away from Rosie, feeling as a blush quickly overcame her cheeks. Coughing slightly she bent down to pick up her bag and met Rosie’s eyes as she stood back up.

“The briefing right.”

“Are you going up again?” Lucy asked as she watched her Rosie turn into Major Rosenthal, he still had that sweet smile for her but his demeanor had instantly transformed when the officer appeared.

“Not today, sweetheart.”

“Right.”

“Here let me take that. Gates here is going to drive us over to your place.” Rosie said as he leaned over and pulled the bag away from Lucy’s grasp. She smiled and nodded as he put an arm around her shoulders.

“Hi, I’m Lucy Everett.” Lucy said as she offered her hand to the blonde haired officer who smiled and shook it.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Lieutenant Richard Gates.”

“Ready to go?” Rosie asked from next to her.

“Yes, sir. The Jeep is just outside the station.”

“Perfect, you ready?” Lucy nodded against Rosie’s shoulder and followed behind Richard as they weaved through the crowd.

The entire ride to her place Lucy spent stealing glances at Rosie who was detailing things about Thorpe Abbotts and the upcoming plans for the weekend. She felt a flutter of butterflies as she watched him get all excited about the fact there was a shipment of new jazz records just a few days ago. He was hers and she couldn’t believe it.

The Jeep finally ambled to a stop in front of a small house on the outskirts of town, it had a bright red door and was covered in so much ivy that it seemed ready to swallow the house whole.

“Alright, Crosby said that you need this key for the front door and there’s some food in the kitchen. I wish I could stay longer but-” Rosie said as he pulled out a key from his pocket and helped her out of the car.

“Hey, Rosie, don’t worry about it. Go get your job done and come see me up later, yeah? I’m going to be fine.” Lucy said as she carefully cupped his face and placed a featherlight kiss to his lips.

“You sure?”

“Yes, darling. Now go. I think I know how to open a door.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in a bit.” Rosie said as he pulled away from her and Lucy watched as he eased himself into the front seat. Richard had averted his eyes to the whole exchange but Lucy could see he was smiling to himself.

“You better, bye Major Rosenthal.” Lucy said with a chuckle, Rosie rolled his eyes at her but smiled, waving as the Jeep started and went down the road.

The house, well cottage, was nice. Lucy had wandered down the narrow halls lined with bright green wallpaper, looking for the bedroom. She found a double bed already made up where she quickly deposited her luggage. How the hell Crosby had managed to find this place was beyond her.

For the rest of the afternoon, Lucy ate some snacks and read her book next to the front window. She almost felt slightly stupid waiting for him by the window like some cliche but it was Rosie. So what did it matter if she was a cliche.

When the sun started to set and Lucy had gotten through yet another chapter of The Grapes of Wrath, a loud knock resounded through the house. The sound of distant talking greeted her once she had put down the book and made her way to the front door.

Turning the key in the lock and pulling the door open, Lucy found Rosie leaning against the door frame and another man was across from him. He seemed to be talking about some new training maneuver, but he promptly stopped speaking when he realized Lucy had opened the door.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Rosie. I’m assuming you’re Crosby right?”

“Yes, hi, pleasure to meet you ma’am.”

“Rosie has told a lot about you, it’s nice to finally meet you too.”

“I’m hoping it was all good things.”

“I assure you it was not.” Rosie said, making Lucy turn to him to find that he had a teasing smirk on his face. Crosby proceeded to slap him on the shoulder which had Rosie trying to shield himself and laughing, Lucy just watching on in amusement.

“You’re embarrassing me in front of the lady! Your lady, you idiot. Ms. Everett I can assure you he was telling blatant lies.” At that Lucy burst out laughing and she felt Rosie’s arm coming to circle her middle.

“Please just call me Lucy or literally anything else. Here, come in! I was just about to put on some tea.”

“Oh God, no.” Rosie muttered.

“I would love some.”

“Croz you don’t even like tea.”

“I’m trying to get on your sweetheart’s good side! Stop ruining my plan.”

“If you’re both so against tea, I do have something stronger.” Lucy said once they had all moved to the living room.

“I think I would remember if I stocked this place with alcohol.” Crosby mused, Lucy only cryptically smiled and pulled herself away from Rosie’s embrace. Quickly walking out of the room and bounding up the stairs to the bedroom, where she knew that she had some whiskey stowed.

She overheard the low murmurs and teasing as she walked back down the stairs, now holding a bottle of the amber liquid.

“Rosie, you really lucked out. How does a beautiful woman like that go for you?”

“Oh shut up. I still don’t know how you managed to get Jean to marry you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either sometimes.”

“Hopefully I’m not interrupting but look what I found.” Lucy said as she walked into the living room, waving the bottle around with a smile on her face.

“How the hell-” Rosie started to ask, but was interrupted when Lucy pecked him on the lips and went to grab some cups from the kitchen.

“Thank my editor and that article.” Lucy called out from the kitchen, quickly walking back to give each of the men one of the glasses.

“It did well?”

“Beyond well.”

“I’m so proud of you sweetheart.” Rosie said, as he pulled Lucy into a kiss. She was leaning over him but quickly maneuvered herself to sit on the sofa to deepen the kiss.

“Oh please stop. Remember there is another person here.”

“Sorry, Harry.” Lucy said with a laugh as she pulled away from her Rosie. Instead she leaned her head on his shoulder and uncorked the whiskey, pouring quite a bit into each of the respective glasses.

The night was filled with laughter, stories and lots of whiskey. Lucy was cocooned in Rosie’s hold and constantly felt kisses being pressed into her hair while Crosby spoke animatedly in one of the armchairs.

“So you’re telling me Rosie, Major Robert Rosenthal, didn’t know how to ride a bike? And- and he had to use his life-” Lucy burst into giggles at the same time as Crosby did, Rosie groaned behind her and just pulled her into him more, trying to stop her from laughing.

“It was a low point.” Rosie added and Lucy could feel him shaking his head behind her and taking a sip of his glass.

“Can you at least ride a bike now?”

“Yes, in fact I can. Rather well I would say. Now that we have had enough of Crosby embarrassing me, has he told you the story about how he was so airsick that he nearly sent his plane to France?”

“Rosie…” Crosby groaned out, making Lucy perk up and look between the two men in interest.

“No, no, I got humiliated. Now it’s your turn.”

It was well past midnight and everyone was thoroughly drunk when Crosby called it a night.

“Alright, I’m going to head back to base.” He said, slurring his words slightly, making Lucy and Rosie giggle.

“Harry, it’s fine. You can stay in the guest bedroom.”

“What about- ohhhh, yup sure.” Crosby said with a knowing smile, which had Lucy giggling again and Rosie blushing.

“You know where it is?”

“Yup. I’ll leave you two love birds to it. Oh and Lucy, it was really nice to meet you.”

“You too, Harry. Have a good sleep.” Crosby nodded and walked out of the living room, bumping into several things and cursing.

“Hmmm, I’m so glad you’re here, Rosie.” Lucy said as she snuggled into him more.

“Me too, darling. Ready to go to bed?”

“Yes.” Lucy muttered as she pulled away from him and placed a long kiss on his lips. Rosie’s mustache slightly tickled her skin making her giggle in her drunken state.

Once they finally made it into bed, after taking multiple breaks to just kiss and enjoy the other’s presence, Lucy felt a thrill shot through her body.

Even if they were both too drunk to do anything it still felt incredible to have clean sheets around her and to be encased in the man she loved. Sharing breaths and body heat under the covers.

Rosie woke up with the sun shining brightly in his eyes and the feeling of a warm body next to his. A pang of pain went through his skull and he immediately regretted how much he drank last night, that was until he heard muffled groaning from next to him and he remembered exactly whose blonde curls were currently lying against his chest.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Too early, Rosie. Shhh.” Rosie laughed for a few moments but that movement immediately started to hurt his head so he stopped and instead started to push Lucy’s hair out of her face.

“You look so beautiful.”

“Rosie, I swear if you say another word I will murder you.” Lucy mumbled against him but nevertheless he could feel her smile.

“Alright, alright.” Rosie carefully leaned down and stared at Lucy’s scrunched up eyes before placing delicate kisses over her eyelids and then on the tip of her nose.

“I would love to wake up like this every morning, Rosie.”

“Me too, sweetheart. It will happen soon, I promise.”

Once Lucy had finally detached herself from him, Rosie threw on his shirt from last night and followed her down to the kitchen. Croz was still nowhere to be seen and Rosie honestly assumed that the man was probably trying to sleep off how much he drank last night.

“Hmmm, it seems we have some alone time, Ms. Everett.” Rosie said once he saw the coast was clear. He pulled Lucy away from the pan where she was making some sort of egg dish and twirled her around so he was now directly staring at her admonishing look.

“We had plenty of time for that upstairs, Mr. Rosenthal- Oh.” Rosie interrupted her by placing his lips at the juncture of her neck. Placing little nibbles and featherlight kisses along the length of her neck.

“Oh God my eyes. Fucking hell. This is a public space.” Rosie quickly stopped and whipped around where he was greeted by Croz’s mildly disgusted face.

“Rosie! I told you!” Lucy shrieked at him while slapping him with a tea towel.

“You weren’t complaining a second ago!”

“Oh God, Harry, do you want some breakfast?”

“That and some bleach for my eyes would be wonderful.”

During breakfast the mood was teasing, Rosie kept shooting glances at Lucy who was avidly telling stories about her time in London. The three of them were still trying to recover from hangovers but unfortunately Croz was due back soon since he still had to plan out some routes.

“Hey I’ll see you later, alright? It was truly a pleasure to meet you, Lucy. You’ll have to visit again soon.”

“Will do, Harry. Oh and remember to give me Jean’s address in Rosie’s next letter.”

“Right, I will. Bye!”

“Bye, Croz. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rosie kept his arm around Lucy as they watched Crosby walk over to the bike he had brought with him last night.

“So do you have any plans for today?”

“I thought we could go for a walk?”

“Sounds wonderful, but first I need to get changed.” Lucy said as she quickly pecked his cheek and disappeared into the house. Rosie smiled and closed the door before heading into the living room.

He found a copy of one of Steinbeck’s books on one of the side tables and promptly picked up The Grapes of Wrath. Settling onto one of the armchairs he was careful to leave the marked page alone and turned back to the first page.

“I see you’re already stealing my books?” Lucy’s voice interrupted his reading several minutes later, he looked up from the printed pages to find her looking absolutely resplendent in the morning light. How did he get so lucky?

“Nah, I just wanted something to preoccupy me. How are you liking it?”

“The book? Oh it’s fine.”

“Have you read any other work of his?”

“I think I read Of Mice and Men a bit ago.” Rosie was instantly reminded of that sunny afternoon at the flak house where he had read that same book.

“Come here, you.” Rosie said as he smiled as he put down the book and reached out his arms, which were quickly filled with Lucy a few moments later.

“Hmm? Don’t we need to go on that walk?”

“I would much rather just look at you.”

“You can’t do that for the rest of the day.”

“Watch me.”

Lucy blushed and smiled down at him, leaning to place a kiss on his lips. She pulled away for only a fraction of a second and Rosie found her staring at his lips before she started to kiss him once more.

“Not that I don’t love this but we’re going to be here forever if we don’t leave now.”

“Fine.” Rosie felt himself pout, which caused Lucy to start laughing at him before flitting out of the room.

-

The countryside of Diss was beautiful, especially in the summer. The sun shined down on the couple as they walked with interlaced fingers through the wild grasses. Rosie was carrying a basket filled with some water and fruit that Lucy had insisted on. And as the bright summer sun beat down on them Rosie was glad that she had persuaded him to bring it.

They found a nice little spot under a tree and proceeded to eat the berries that Crosby had probably somehow found in the market.

“Rosie, thanks for letting me come here.”

“What? Of course, I would always have you here if I could.” Rosie said as he watched Lucy spread out on the grass, leaning her head against his thigh.

“Good, because I never want to leave.”

“That reminds me… when is your train tomorrow?”

“Early, Johnson wants me back to get an assignment bright and early Monday morning, and there are no later trains.”

“Well that’s an inconvenience.”

“I know, love. I’m sorry, I wish I could stay here with you forever but my job…”

“Lu, it’s alright. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m beyond proud of what you’re accomplishing. I just wish we had more time.”

“We’ll have more time after the war. We just need to get through it first.”

“And we will.” Rosie said, firmly and looked at Lucy with a serious look on his face which she mirrored.

“I know we will.”

Lucy felt free. She was standing next to Rosie, making dinner, and it was as if all the worries had drifted away. Lucy had realized that that sort of thing happened only when she was around him, it was as if there was this calming energy just surrounding him like some sort of blanket.

She didn’t want to leave. She knew it was the same old story she had been telling herself when he first left all those weeks ago but now she was the one leaving and it hurt. But she was adamant that she would savor this moment, because Rosie was making his mother’s famous tomato soup again.

“Lucy, here.”

“What? Oh!” Rosie held up the spoon for her to try the soup, Lucy put down the bread she was cutting as carefully sipped the red liquid.

“Rosie, this is incredible, again- You need to give me that recipe.”

“Nope. My ma said we can only give it to family so unless you’re considering becoming a Rosenthal then I’m afraid I can’t.”

“And what if I wanted that to happen?” Lucy said, confidence moving through her like a bolt of lightning. She watched as Rosie nearly dropped the spoon that he was holding and widened his eyes almost comically.

“You mean- I- So if I proposed right here and now, you would say yes?”

“Yes, but I don’t think you have a ring. So wait until the war has ended and then get down on one knee, hmm?”

“You really want to marry me?”

“More than anything.”

“Well then I’ll ask you again when this is all over.”

“You better, Mr. Rosenthal.” Lucy said with a smile so wide that it was starting to hurt her cheeks. Rosie quickly placed the spoon back into the pot before pulling Lucy towards him by the waist and kissing her deeply and passionately and so full of love.

Lucy responded in turn and they spent what felt like forever entwined together, hands tangled in each other’s hair and passionately kissing.

“Rosie… Rosie… we need to eat.”

“Right yeah. Okay.” He quickly said before Lucy felt his lips press against hers once again.

“Rosie. Darling.”

“Okay. Yeah. Food.” Lucy hummed with a smile on her face as Rosie pulled away and started to quickly serve the soup into bowls.

The dinner was laced with tension, Lucy’s knees kept knocking against Rosie’s and they barely uttered a word as they just stared at each other.

“Rosie, let me clean up.”

“You sure?”

“Of course, you cooked. It’s only fair.” Rosie nodded and helped her carry the dishes to the sink. Lucy quickly washed them all the while feeling Rosie’s eyes on her.

“Ready for bed?”

“Hmm, I need to change first.”

“Into that nightgown?”

“Yes, Rosie. Into that nightgown. Just so you know though, we aren’t doing that tonight.”

“Oh I know. I want to save that until we have our own home and a proper bed that doesn’t creak with every movement.”

“Rosie!”

“What?”

Half an hour later, Lucy found herself once again cuddled up against Rosie’s chest. Her fingers were intertwined with the chain that held his dog tags and she could feel him placing soft kisses on her head.

“Good night, my love.” Lucy mumbled as she felt sleep overtake her, pulling her into dreams filled with the man next to her.

“Good night. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Rosie woke up the next morning in a similar way he had the day before. He was holding Lucy in his arms but the English weather decided to take a turn for the worse. The sounds of rain against the windows had Lucy stirring against him. He still couldn’t believe what happened last night actually happened. She said she would marry him. Him!

Butterflies seemed to angrily beat their wings in his stomach when he felt Lucy place a delicate kiss over his heart.

“Hi darling.”

“Hi. Do you know what time it is?”

“Uh- around 830 hours.”

“Good, we can stay here for a while then.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

So the couple laid in between white sheets and just held each other for a few more minutes. They were desperate to cling onto the shreds of time that they had left before they would have to leave each other again.

Lucy felt that time slip away when she started to assemble her clothes back into her suitcase. She could hear Rosie humming and making breakfast downstairs and that familiar pang in her heart reappeared.

What she wouldn’t do so she could stay with him for just a few more hours… but the clock read 9am and her train would leave in an hour, with or without her.

“Breakfast is ready! I even made your tea.” 

Lucy laughed as she grabbed the handles of her carpet bag and quickly went down the stairs, depositing her luggage next to her shoes and walking over to the kitchen. Rosie dramatically presented her with a mug that had what looked like tea in it.

She pressed the side to her lips and took a sip of the liquid, surprisingly enough he didn’t mess it up. The milky goodness slid past her taste buds and she let out a groan of satisfaction.

“Thanks Rosie. What did you make?”

“Just toast, I know we need to leave soon.”

“Thanks, darling. I’m all packed and ready.” Lucy said as she accepted the plate with a single piece of toast and some fruit on it.

“Great. Are you excited for the new assignment?”

“Yeah, yeah I am. He mentioned I would get to do some more interviews, which is something I love more than research so hopefully it’s a good one.”

“Everything you write is already incredible.”

“Yeah I’m not so sure about that but thank you.”

“Lucy…”

“What? You get all clammed up when I talk about how incredible you are at flying so don’t think this is all me.” Lucy said, making her point by waving the piece of toast around and pointing at Rosie.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop. When do you want to head out?”

“When we finish this? I want to get the dishes all clean for Croz and then we can walk.”

“Actually I was thinking we could just take my bike.”

“Do you think that’s safe?” Lucy said, raising her eyebrows teasingly.

“Hey! That was a one-time thing. I’m a master now.”

“Sureee.”

“Stop teasing me or else you’ll be walking all the way there while I cruise by next to you.”

“How exactly are you planning on carrying both of us on that thing?”

“You just need to sit on the handle bars.”

“Yeah, no, not happening.”

Minutes later after the house had been checked over Lucy found herself balancing on the handles of the bicycle with her bag on her lap. She was feeling bouts of nervous energy running through her body and she cursed at Rosie the entire way to the train station.

When it finally came into view, Lucy quickly jumped off the bike and took a long deep breath of fresh air. Wobbling slightly on her legs she heard Rosie laugh as he dismounted the bike and leaned it against the brick wall.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Oh Major Rosenthal you don’t want to know.”

“Would a kiss make it up to you?”

“It would be a start.” Rosie chuckled and then pulled Lucy closer to him, placing a kiss on her cheek and then on her lips.

“I almost forgot!” Lucy suddenly exclaimed and then bent down to pull out a book from her bag. “Something to remember me by.”

“Lucy… I don’t think there’s a chance I will ever forget you.”

“I hope so, but you seemed interested and I have one too many books at home anyways. Just make sure to give it back to me, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The sounds of a coming train suddenly resounded and Lucy reluctantly let go of the book. 

“I have to go.”

“I know.”

“I love you so much, Rosie. Remember what I told you last night.”

“You’ll be waiting?”

“Always.” The couple turned at the sound of the train pulling into the station, and in a parallel to all those weeks ago when one of them left the other on the train platform; Lucy stepped onto the train and waved. She watched as he waved back and quickly blew him a kiss before disappearing to find her seat.

“I better go buy a ring.” Rosie muttered to himself when the train started to pull away from the station.

just apologizing in advance for the next chapter which although unwritten is going to be A LOT.

taglist: @callumsgirl @justheretoreadthxxs <333

part 4

[lanalvrr]

I'll come back to you

Major John "bucky" Egan x OC (Louise)

Part 1 / summary: bucky and his crew crash in an unknown place thinking it's Germany. Until they see a house with a French flag.

Warnings: injuries/historical inaccuracies/war

They were going down, bucky knew they wouldn't make it.

"Major, we have to jump. We can't stay in the plane, or we're gonna die with it!" Major Harry Crosby yells. Bucky knew he was right, and so did Luetinant Curtis Biddick.

They all jumped and abandoned the plane. They landed in what seemed like a wheat field. Except Bucky couldn't see any of the other passengers. He wondered if he was the only one who made it. That thought was cut short when he heard Curtis yelling, "Major! Major! Bucky!" He said whilst him and Harry were running up to him. "Tommy didn't jump in time, and Sheldon's parachute didn't work, so it's just us left." Harry informed him.

" I'm not sure where we are, and if we're in Germany, we're screwed." Bucky informed the men. "I'm not so sure we're in Germany. I don't think that's a German flag." Curtis said as he pointed to a house with a flag pole with the same colors as the American flag.

Bucky started slowly walking towards the farmhouse to get a better look. Once he got close enough, he realized they were in France! "It's a French flag! We're I'm france!" Bucky yelled and signaled the men to follow him.

They began running towards the house, not minding their injuries. Bucky hoped to use their phones, but knew it would be difficult to communicate.

Louise heard men yelling out side, she thought nothing of it, thinking it was her brother and his friends. But when her brother yelled at her to come downstairs. She came running. Her mother and father were at the door, and everyone went to the porch. Louise was standing behind her mother and brother as her dad stood there looking at the three men who were running.

As the men got closer, bucky noticed the family was on the porch. He saw a man and a woman and what looked like to be their son. He looked at their legs and noticed an extra pair, wearing low black heels.

They got in front of the family, out of breath from the running. All bucky could think about is the girl hiding behind them. He was taken out of his thoughts when he heard harry and Curtis trying to speak with them, but the family did not understand

"We need a phone! Hello!? Do you understand us!?" Harry said while getting mad and using his to make a phone shape. Bucky signaled him to calm down, as he did that the girl hiding stepped in front of her mother.

She had this brown hair that looked like hot chocolate or his coffee he drank in the morning on base. Her figure was small. She seemed a lot shorter than her brother. Her eyes were grassy green, and she had the most gorgeous freckles ever. He could stare at her all day.

Louise stepped out in front of her mother after hearing the American men try to speak to her father. Her father didn't understand English, he only knew French. Luckily for her, she knew English.

When she stepped in front of her mother, she noticed one of the men. He was taller than the other two men. He was wearing a torn up uniform, and his cap was gone. He had dark brown hair and a slight mustache. She had never seen anyone more handsome.

Even compared to all the boys that lived in the towns closest to her. No one compared.