#sleepy!speirs

[pigeonlogan]

Your C.O. is tired.

[wiltedprayers]

i find it kind of funny that while blithe is having an existential crisis in front of speirs, martin is just. sleeping soundly beside him. occasionally giving blithe a side eye. also sending him off to inspect the sound of someone screaming while he's getting comfy in their foxhole. he can't be bothered he's too sleepy

[kilojulietsierra]

Finders Keepers - Capt Ronald Speirs x Nurse!OFC

Summary: Lt. Elaine Walker is apparently the only nurse in her unit not terrified of the new Easy Company CO. As such she gets to know him just a little bit better than anyone else.

Warnings: All of my content is considered 18+ only, slow burn, fluff, eventual relationship, secret relationship, not so secret relationship, flirting in the middle of a war, smoking and drinking, allusions to sex canon typical language, violence and events.

Disclaimer: this work is based on the HBO series Band of Brothers and is in no way meant to disrespect the real heroes of Easy Co.

~~~~~~

She woke up all but burrowed under the covers, warmer and cozier than she'd been in longer than she could remember. On the verge of sleep and waking something was nagging at her. Fighting to stay asleep she wrapped her fist tighter around the edge of the blankets, giving them a tug.

The blankets came freely and she burrowed deeper into her pillow. The one hand she had out in the cool air of the room reached out to the other side of the mattress and stretched out the stiffness. That was when she realized what had awoken her in the first place.

Cigarette smoke.

Reluctantly she cracked her eyes open, it was still dark, the night air was cool and quiet.

"Over here." Ron broke the silence. HIs voice was smooth and quiet, barely disturbing the darkness.

Once her eyes adjusted to the light Elaine saw the cherry red end of his cigarette, "Come back to bed."

"Go back to sleep." HIs voice stayed just as hushed as before, the end of his cigarette glowed brighter for a moment.

"I will." She stretched her entire body and chased after sleep once again. "When you come back to bed."

Across the room he huffed out a silent laugh and took one last, long drag on his cigarettle. In the dark his steps were noiseless and only the faintest shape of him was visible, a silouhette as he passed in front of the moonlit window.

Her eyes had slipped closed once again, only opening when the bed dipped with his weight. She sighed contently as he slid under the blankets beside her once again. Once he was settled he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. "You enjoy bossing your CO around Walker."

Eyes closed and a sleepy smile on her face she rested her head on his chest. "Technically, you're not my CO."

That earned her another huff, a laugh, or as close as it would get. "That so?" His fingers stroked up her bare back. "Pretty sure your chief is reporting to me while your unit is still attached to Easy."

She felt his eyes peering down at her, could imagine the look on his face. Keeping her own eyes closed she chose not to respond.

The next time he spoke the words were whispered directly in her ear, "That would make me your commanding officer," He ducked his head to place a kiss behind her ear, "Technically."

Laney chuckled and pressed herself tighter against him, dropped a kiss of her own against his chest. Followed quickly by her teeth nipping at his pec. "Wise ass."

Ron hissed a little at her sharp teeth, but only retaliated by rolling them over so he was on his side and her back was flush against his chest. "Thought I told you to go back to sleep." He whispered against her ear again,

She settled back against him and hummed. letting her eyes slip closed. "What woke you up?"

His arms around her and his face pressed against the back of her neck he kissed her there. "Just a dream."

"Same one?"

Behind her Ron only hummed.

During the day he was a man of few words for the most part. Being promoted to Captain apparantly hadn't changed that much from what she heard. But, here in Austria, especially with her, he would losen up some. One of those times, late at night, laying in bed together he had told her about his nightmares.

Most of the men had them, she knew that all too well. The boys that came into the aid stations, the hospitals, they all trembled, moaned, sometimes screamed in their sleep. She had seen it plenty of times. They would startle awake. Their sleep haunted, dreams of earth exploding, shells raining down, the images of their friends bloody and mangled beside them..

Captain Speirs was no exception.

"Go back to sleep." Rons voice was even softer as he pulled the blankets up closer around them and settled in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Captain Speirs, Sir?"

Speirs turned around, "What?" he snapped, already sick of people coming and asking him stupid questions.

"SIr, the nurse corps is asking where to set up." The soldier standing in front of him stared blankly as he waited for orders.

Speirs breathed deep through his nose and glanced out the grimey, half shattered window, "Take three men and clear a building across the street."

"Yessir." The boy left to do as he was told.

Less than an half an hour later, as he leaned on the back of the couch talking to a shivering, coughing Lipton, Speirs was once again interrupted.

~~~

When the chief nurse came to them they were unloading the last of the supplies. "Captain Winters is requesting someone to report to company E CP, they have men there that need attention."

Elaine and the other nurses stopped what they were doing. One of them spoke up, "Why can't they just come here? We are almost set up."

The chief nurse simply stared back at them, "Apparantly they're too busy."

"Isn't that what medics are for?" Another girl asked.

"Will one of you please, just go report to Captain Speirs. Don't make me order you."

The girls all exchanged a look. "Captain Speirs, ma'am?" Even the nurse corp had heard the stories. Boys coming into feild hospitals and aid stations were full of them. The nurses had all heard of the infamous Captain Speirs by now.

"Yes, Captain Speirs. He's the Easy Company commanding officer."

Glancing amongst themselves the nurses remained silent. After a long, tense moment Elaine jumped down from the truck with a humph and grabbed her kit, "I'll go Teresa." She slung her bag over her shoulder and took a look around at the wide eyes staring at her. With a snort she added, "I could use a cigarette anyway."

Laney ignroed the snickering and whispering behind her as she jogged across the street. Stepping quicker at the sound of artillery screaming overhead. Once she made it across the street to the company CP she ducked inside as a shell hit somewhere nearby.

The men looked up as she entered. One of them standing behind the couch looked her over as he stood to his full height, "Aid station is set up across the way."

Laney squared up to the Captain from across the room, "I'm well aware SIr. I've been sent to see to someone here."

The man on the couch sat up a ittle straighter, fighting back a coughing fit. "See who?" A shiver rolled through him as soon as he finished talking.

With a snort and a hint of a smile Laney shrugged out of her satchel and walked over to the couch, "I'm willing to bet that'd be you Sargent." Kneeling down beside him she gave him a quick once over and felt at his cheek and forehead. "You should be laying down somewhere trooper."

"Exactly what I said." Speirs spoke up from behind the couch, his eyes meeting hers and his lips twitching the slightest bit as though he may smile if he weren't careful. "In the back. Let her take a look at you Lip, that's an order."

With a cough and a little help, Sargent Lipton got to his feet, taking the blanket with him. "Yes Sir."

Speirs nodded to Lip and then looked back to Laney, "What's your name, Nurse?"

Laney shot him a look, "Lieutenant."

"Your name is Lieutenant?" His lips twitched again.

"My rank." She wrapped Liptons arm over her shoulders and picked up her bag. "If you'll excuse us, Sir?"

Speirs' eyes were dark and he did finally crack the barest of smiles as he nodded his approval, "Lieutenant. Lip, get some rest."

"Sir." Lip nodded and together he and Laney headed for the back of the building.

At the door Laney tugged Lipton to a stop and turned back to Speirs, "Say Captain, got any cigarettes?" Lip jerked his head up to look at her in surprise.

Back in the main room Speirs met her gaze with an honest to God smirk, "Fresh out."

~~~

Later that evening, when Laney had finally finished with the officers and non-coms and their multitudes of 'minor' ailments they'd all been dutifully ignoring, she was surprised to find that Speirs was still there.

He sat in relative darkness, save for the one kerosene lamp turned down low in the corner. His eyes were closed and he was slouched back in his chair, one muddy boot kicked up on the desk. Laney thought he must be asleep so she stepped quietly past him.

"Lieutenant Walker." Laney stopped in her tracks, not questioning how he'd gotten her name, and turned back towards the desk he'd moved into the corner and away from the windows. Now his eyes were wide open but his posture remained the same. "Captain."

Speirs seemed to be studying her intently for a long moment. "How are the men?"

Taking a breath, forcing herself to relax, Laney kept her voice down to match his, "Wore out." She took a few steps closer, "To say the least."

He nodded. "A little out of uniform aren't you Lietenant?" His eyes held hers, a hint of something in them. He looked her up and down, taking in the state of her dress.

A pair of hand me down jump trousers and a four pocket jacket a size or two too big over layers against the cold. She carried a bag like a medic, noticeably emptier than it was when she arrived, a battered helmet with the red cross peeling on one side . He saw a pair of fingerless gloves tucked in the utility belt she had cinched around her waist and noticed that the brown leather was stained darker with blood.

Laney rolled her eyes and cocked her hip, "Well, Sir, a white dress and stalkings don't fair too well on the line."

Speirs chuckled. "Appreciate you taking care of them."

"It's what I'm here for." She spared him a smile. "How 'bout you Captain?"

"How about me?" Foot still propped on his desk he crossed his arms, smirking again like he had earlier.

"Need me to take a look at anything?" She nodded his direction for emphasis.

Speris shook his head, "I'm doin' just fine Lieutenant." He held her gaze for a moment and eventually bobbed his head towards the door, "Go get some rest."

"Yes sir." She hiked her bag higher on her shoulder and turned to leave, "Good night Captain."

"Good night Lieutenant." At the door she stopped, and dug through one of her jacket pockets until she pulled out a crumpled pack of Lucky Strikes. She tossed them to the Captain and chuckled when he had to quickly uncross hs arms to catch them. "Laney."

Speirs held up the pack of smokes in thanks, "Ron."

He watched her smile and then disappear out the door. Once she was gone he chuckled to himself and pulled a cigarette out of the pack and lit it. He was still smiling when he stuffed the pack in his pocket, recrossed his arms and closed his eyes again.

~~~

When Easy moved out of Haguenau, Laney and the other nurses hung back with the rest of the support staff. At least until they could receive word from Easy and the rest of the battalion that Sturzelburg was secure enough for them to enter. Once they had received the all clear they rolled in with their jeeps and trucks.

At the center of town they dismounted and it was Lieutenant Elaine Walker that was once again sent to the CP. After their group of nurses had linked up with Easy on the other side of the French/German border Lieutenant Walker had been designated the unofficial go between for the Nurse Corp and Easy Company. The other nurses were still hesitant to approach the Company CO.

They apparently weren't so scared of him that they didn't gossip about him plenty. Speirs, Nixon, Winters... Of course any of them would volunteer to go to Nixon or Major Winters in a heartbeat, bicker for the chance even. Captain Speirs on the other hand, well, Laney was the lucky one. Not that she minded all that much anymore, if she were telling the truth. Her interactions with the Captain were limited but they got on well enough. Quite well actually.

Laney approached a group of soliders congregated on the steps of one of the shops. "Any of y'all seen Captain Speirs?"

The lot of them stood up a little straighter. One with southern accent, much thicker than her own, spoke up, "Yes ma'am, he's clearing houses down that way." He pointed down the street.

With her thanks Laney headed down the street. She finally found him in the fourth house she checked. He was jogging down the stairs with a trayful of treasures. "Lieutenant Walker." Speirs spared her a fraction of a smile as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Laney chuckled as she walked over to see what he'd found. "Captain." She plucked the silver tray dangling from one hand out of his grasp and studied it. Flipping it over and over watching the way the sun bounced off the surface.

"Have they set you up somewhere yet?" He moved to prop a hip on the table.

"Not yet. We just rolled in." She set the platter down and continued to peer through his newest collection. "You've been busy." Laney picked up an intricate, decorative hair comb and admired it. Her fingertips tracing the delicate, silver flower petals. It was the kind that was too pretty to be used.

Speirs huffed out a laugh, "I'll have the boys clear a house for you. Help you ladies get up and running."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Told you," He ducked his head slightly to catch her eye, "Call me Ron." He was grinning when he said it and he grinned a little wider when he caught her smiling down at the floor.

Laney looked at him out the corner of her eye, "Right... Ron." She turned to face him, still holding the silver comb. "How much of this stuff you sent home already?"

His face remained the same as he shrugged. "A little here and there."

She chuckled, "Mhmm, a little." Laney took one last look at the comb and set it down carefully back on the tray. "Who should I find? To get us a building?" She noticed the way his eyes flicked from the movement of her hands back to her face. The fact she could get away with snooping through his loot without retribution pleased her more than it should.

Speirs smirked, stood up straight and situated his grip on the tray full of treasures. "I'll grab some men."

"What about your treasures here?" She pointed.

His face sobered slightly, "We'll stop on the way." He nodded toward the second tray she'd left on the table, signaling for her to make herself useful.

When she reached for the empty tray a noise upstairs caught her attention, stopped her in her tracks. Her head tipped back she looked up at the floor above them. It was pretty obvious what the source of the noise was and Laney pulled her lips between her teeth, trying not to laugh. "Glad everyone else is enjoying themselves."

She walked towards the door where Speirs was waiting and she tried not to turn too red when her gaze met his for a second too long. She felt his eyes on her as she walked out of the building in front of him but him nearly getting ran over by the jeep broke the tension as she tried and failed not to laugh.

His scowl was half hearted but no less effective as he pointed her towards the APO.

Laney also couldn't help but notice the way the soldiers jumped out of his way or the looks they gave her as she followed him in. She was still staring them down on their way out the door when Ron sat his loot down on the counter for the private.

WIth one hand he set the two packs of smokes down and with the other deftly grabbed the comb off the tray to sneak it back in his pocket. "Laney."

She spun around and chuckled when he pointed to the tray she still held. Laney handed it over and stayed in the same spot as Ron conducted his business.

When he was done he turned to leave and had made it to the door, his hand settled on her back to guide her out when the private had spoken up.

Laney had stiffened slightly under his hand. He'd never touched her before and while it was unfamiliar it was not unpleasant. His hand stayed there as he looked back to the Private and had given him that unsettling smile. "Finders keepers." Rons fingers had flexed at her back as he'd said it and then he had ushered her out the door.

~~~

Laney had followed the low murmur of mens voices and smell of cigarette smoke down the stairs where battalion had set up HQ.

When she found the source Lipton was the first one to notice her, "Evening ma'am."

Speirs looked up from his cards, lips twitching as he gave her a nod.

Harry gave her a big smile, "Lieutenant Walker! Lovely night ain't it."

She chuckled as she stepped further into the room, "Isn't it past you boys bed time?"

"Mom said we could stay up late, as long as we finished our schoolwork and brushed our teeth." Harry giggled at his own joike.

Laney glanced around the table. Harry had quite the collection of bottles beside him, Lip a single bottle of half drank beer and the Captain had an empty bottle and a coffee cup in front of him, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers.

Speirs was the one to question her, face unreadable but his eyes searching hers, "What brings you by Lieutenant?"

Hands braced on the back of Harrys chair she shrugged, "Dropping of requisition forms, hard to get paperwork done furing the day." She held Rons gaze a moment longer before she broke away, "So, who's winning?" She looked over Harry's shoulder and gave him a consoling pat on the arm, "Obviously not Lieutenant Welsh here."

Harry groaned as Lipton laughed and Ron raised again. "I'm out." He dropped his cards face down on the table. "That's just plain rude."

Laney laughed and threw the other two men a wink. "Y'all stay out of trouble." She turned to leave but Liptons voice stopped her in the doorway.

"You play cards Lieutenant?"

She turned to look back at him, momentarily distracted by watching Rons hand shuffle the deck of cards. "Better than Harry." They all shared a laugh and she watched as Ron started to deal. Harry grrumbled but Speirs and Lip both smiled.

"Have a seat." Ron flicked his eyes up to hers as he dealt.

"Don't have any cash."

"Use Nix's." Ron had already dealt her a hand at Nixons empty seat. He quirked his lips into a smile, cigarette dangling between them as he spoke, "He won't miss it."

After a moment of hesitation she smiled, "Sure." and made her way around the table to take Nixons empty seat.

Lip stood up, "Care for a drink ma'am?" already on his way to grab her a beer.

"You can call me Elaine, you know that right?" Laney smiled as she sat down, and couln't help but catch the look on Ron's face.

He hid a smile by taking a long drag on the end of his cigarette, obviously pleased he was still the only one that got to call her Laney. Hands dealt, fresh cigarettes lit and a bottle of beer in front of her, Ron looked up and gave her smirk, "Ladies first."

A couple hours later Laney collected her most recent winnings with a giggle much to the disdain of the men around her.

"This is your fault." Harry stabbed a wavering finger in Liptons direction.

"Not his fault you're a shit card player." Laney smiled as she straightened out the dollar bills and added them to her stack. The couple beers she'd had were hitting her and she was enjoying herself.

Lip was glassy eyed and grinning as he collected the cards to reshuffle.

Ron had finished his coffee then had one more drink himsefl. His eyes were still sharp but he was slouched back in his chair and had run his hand through his hair enough it was hanging over his brow as it sometimes did. "Don't be a sore loser Welsh."

"Easy for you to say, she didn't take all your money." Harry groused as he scowled at his empty beer bottle.

"Not all of it." Ron smirked at her as she folded her winnings neatly and pushed back from the table.

"Wait, where you going?" Lip looked up mid-shuffle.

"Gentleman, it's been fun, but I think I'm gonna call it a night." Laney smiled wide as she pocketed the cash she had collected.

"Not gonna walk off with Nix's money are you?" Ron looked up at her, still with a smirk on his face.

"Like you said, he won't miss it." She pushed her chair in and waved them all a, "Good night."

Ron sat up straighter, "Where are you billeted?"

Laney leaned on the back of the chair, tipsy enough she had to think for a second, "We have a house, other side of town."

WIth a glance at his watch, Ron pursed his lips and snubbed out his cigarette. "It's late, I'll walk you."

As the two of them left the room Lip and Welsh exchanged a look, a long and knowing look.

~~~

The girls were exhausted, all of them sitting around the long, dining room table eating in silence. After the things they had seen that day outside of Lansburg, none of them had much to say. Or much of an appetite for that matter.

Laney was sitting about halfway down on one side. Staring at the meal they had scrounged together for themselves. She couldn't bring herself to eat any of it though. Not after that.

All of them startled slghtly at the sound of the heavy front door opening. They all seemed to hold their breath while they waited. A moment later Captain Speirs and Lieutenant Lipton appeared in the entryway. Both of them just as exhausted as the rest of them.

Their chief nurse stood up to greet the officers.

Lipton offered a brave attempt at a smile. Speirs merely nodded, "Ma'am. Can you spare one of the nurses?"

Teresa, the chief nurse, asked "Has something happened?" The fear of what else they could possible have found evident in her voice.

"Nothing ma'am." Captain Speirs removed his helmet and shoved his sweat soaked hair back, "Our medics are all still at the camp and, well," He exchanged a glance with Lip, "I'd just feel better if someone could take a look at a few of my men."

WIthout a single word every eye in the room turned on Elaine. With closed eyes she took a deep, fortifying breath. Then she pushed back from her untouched plate and stood on tired legs. "I'll go." She didn't spare a look at her fellow nurses as she walked past them all to grab her coat and bag from the hooks by the door. Shrugging into the jacket she turned to Speirs and Lipton, "Lead the way." The men both nodded and replaced their helmets on their heads.

~~~

If Laney thought she was exhausted after a day of assisting at the camp, then she was well and truly done for after the evening of taking care of the shocky servicemen.

There was no class or training they had been given to know how to care for the young men that saw the atrocities that had been found that day. She had done the best that she could but it felt wholly inadequate.

She had stopped in the sitting room of the home in use as the CP and dropped her bag and helmet on the floor by one of the overly ornate sofas before dropping herself onto it with a pathetic groan. Her intention had just been to sit for a moment, but then as she sat her muscles turned to jelly and her eyes became heavy. Almost without thought she stretched out to lay down.

Laney jumped awake a short while later with a start. Heart pounding in her chest and blood rushing in her ears, her eyes flew open. What had awoken her was the weight of a blanket settling over her. Once her vision cleared she saw that it was Speirs who was laying the blanket down.

"What's wrong?" She started but was cut short.

Speirs shook his head. "Nothing." and then put a firm, reassuring hand on her shoulder to keep her from sitting up. She had a fleeting thought that his eyes looked softer, almost sweeter than she'd ever seen them.

He was also closer to her than he'd ever been before. His hair was still a disheveled mess and his face looked as tired as she felt. For some reason, possibly the exhaustion, she did not argue or ask futher questions. Instead she closed her eyes and sunk back into the couch.

Before she drifted off to sleep again she felt the blanket as it was pulled back over her and the warmth of a hand smoothing over back.

When she woke she could tell she had not moved an inch, the blanket wrapped tight around her as she huddled on the couch that wasn't nearly as comfortable as it had felt when she first dozed off on it the night before. As she sat up the thin wool blanket pooled around her waist and every bone in her body ached.

Without much of a thought she draped the blanket over the back of the couch, collected her bag and helmet off the ground, and left to head back to the building where they had set up the hospital. It was when she ran into one of the other nurses in the street that she learned Hitler had committed suicide.

The end was in sight at last

~~~

Later, in the back of a jeep following along behind Easy company on their way to Berchtesgaden, Laney sat with with her knees bent and her boots braced against the back of the seat in front of her.

The country was beautiful and the morning chill in the air invigorating to their tired bodies and souls. For somethhing to do more than anythng she shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket and tipped her head back, intending to take a nap.

There was something in her pocket she didn't immediatly recognize. At first she thought it might be a pair of scissors she forgot to put back in her bag. The touch of cool metal against her fingers led her to believe, but it didn't feel quite right. When she pulled the item from her pocket her breath actually caught in her throat.

In her palm lay the beautiful silver comb she had been admiring from among Captain Speirs loot back in Sturzelburg. The one with the intricate flower adorning the handle.

On reflex she cloesd her fingers around the comb and shoved it back in her pocket before the other girls in the jeep could see. The whole rest of the way to Germany her mind spun. Had he given it to her? When though? Surely she'd remember. Last she had seen it she had laid it carefully on the tray with the rest of his haul. He must of snuck it in her pocket. Then she remembered.

The night after they had found that camp, she had fallen asleep on the couch and woken up to him, Ron, giving her a blanket.

Inside her pocket she couldn't stop running her fingers over the intricate engraving on the body of the comb. She also could not stop herself from thinking about Captain Speirs.

Once they were in Berchesgarten everything went fast. Once the town itself was clear, an easy feat for the boys as it was mostly abondoned, the nurse corp got to work setting up the aid station in a floor of the hotel.

Laney hadn't seen Speirs since they arrived but she tracked him down easily enough that afternoon. She found him on a balcony of the hotel smoking a cigarette with his back to the railing and his thompson leaned up beside him. He looked up at her as she came out onto the balcony.

For a moment he looked like he was going to say something but with a smirk laney just leaned against the door and held the comb up for him to see. Instead of whatever he had been about to say he just smiled and dragged on his cigarette. "Where'd you get that?"

Her eyes flicked to the back of her head quickly before she put the comb back in her pocket. "That's what I've been wondering." She crossed the small balcony to lean against the railing beside him.

He held her gaze for a long moment. Smirking when she didn't look away from him. "Finders keepers."

Finishing the rest of his cigarette Speirs stood up straight. He was closer now and she had to look up slightly to look him in the eye.

Rather than say anything else Laney placed one hand on his jaw and stood on her toes to kiss him on the opposite cheek. "Thank you Ron."

When she pulled back Ron still had that easy smirk on his face as he gazed down at her. Rather than admit to anything he gave her a wink and headed back inside. At the doors he paused and turned back to her "We're down a medic."

Her blank stare was her only response.

"Easy is going up there." He nodded towards the Eagle's Nest and then back down to Laney. "Wanna come with us?" Speirs shrugged, "Just in case."

He was doing that thing again. Where his stare was dark and calculating but the very corner of his lips twitched like he was holding back a smile.

Laney slouched back against the railing, "Just in case." She repeated his own words back to him.

With a nod Speirs said, "C'mon." And so that was how she found herself in the back of a jeep as it climbed its way up the switchback roads of an Alpine mountain. Creeping ever closer to the supposed last Nazi stronghold.

At the top of the mountain the first few men of Easy company were at the door staging to enter by the time Laney jumped down out of the jeep behind Speirs. Halfway to the door Speirs put a hand to her elbow and stopped her in her tracks. "Here. Stay close," He left his hand on her a moment longer than necessary, "Just in case."

Laney snorted, "Yeah. Just in case."

Speirs gave her a nod, nudged her behind him and the others. After the first group of soldiers were through the door she followed them in.

For her part Laney just looked around. Keeping within sight of at least one of the men at all times. It was almost on accident that she stumbled upon the room with the three dead Nazi officers. She wasn't sure how long she had been standing in the doorway when Speirs appeared behind her.

She flinched a little, snapped out of her daze, but stilled when she felt his hand in the middle her back. He guided her further into the room so he could step past her and one by one kicked over the bodies, his pistol at the ready in one hand, though it was obvious he wouldn't need it.

As he knelt down by one of them Laney circled the room. She came to a stop in front of a desk to one side and decided to take a hint from the others, so she started rummaging. Not much caught her eye other than a silver cigarette case she found with the Nazi eagle on it and a set of fountain pens. The others could take the big stuff. At least this way she could say she brought something back with her.

When she turned back towards Speirs he was digging through the last German's pockets, but his eyes were on her and he had a smirk on his face.

Laney shoved her trinkets in an inside jacket pocket and shrugged, "Finders keepers. Right?"

WIth a nod he jerked something out from under the dead mans torso and stood up. Speirs took his own sidearm and slipped it into its holster before holding the luger up between them. As he walked back towards her he dropped the magazine out of a Luger he had apparently found, checked the chamber and slammed the magazine back home. "Here." He came to stand directly in front of her and offered her the pistol.

She must have looked as uncertain as she felt because he spoke up. "How many nurses you think get the chance to take a German officers sidearm home as a souvenir?" He nodded to her and gestured to the handgun again.

It felt strange in her hands. She was smart enough to know that the officer Ron had found this gun on had used it to take his own life. It felt wrong, but Ron was right. "You don't want it?"

He smirked, "I've got plenty." and took the Luger from her before grabbing her shoulder and spinning her around so he could stow it in her bag for her. When he spun her back around he kept his voice down, "Don't let anyone know you got that."

Laney nodded and without another word between them he led her out the door. At the door a loud, echoing pop caused Laney to flinch. Her hand jumped out to fist in Rons sleeve and she took half step backwards.

Ron tensed slightly but breathed out a sigh of exasperation, his right hand smoothing up and down her back as he coaxed her forward into the main hall. Where they found Malarkey swigging straight from a champagne bottle.

She couldn't help but laugh at herself as Ron sent the trooper out to guard the entrance until WInters could arrive. For a moment Laney couldn't help but get lost in his eyes and the way he turned back to look at her. There was something in them she couldn't put a finger on. She knew what she hoped it was and for a moment she felt her body lean in, caught the way those hard eyes softened, and then another loud pop had her heart jumping up into her throat again. Once again she flinched and grabbed ahold of Rons jacket, the front of it this time as she broke into giggles.

"Your boys are gonna kill me, I swear." She berated herself for being so jumpy.

Ron put his hand on her again and looked unmistakably irritated, "Not if I kill them first." He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he gave her side a comforting squeeze. When he saw her still smiling he relaxed a little. He heard Welsh and Nixon, their voices carrying well through the castle like halls. Eyes still just as dark, but with a little less murder in them, Ron spared her a grin. "Stay and celebrate?"

Her heart in her throat again Laney released her death grip on the front of his jacket and returned his smile. "I better head back. They were still setting up BAS when I left."

WIth a slow blink, as if to collect himself, Ron nodded and seemed to wait until the last possible second to remove his hand from her waist. He had just let her go when Nix entered the room to order all champagne bottles be rounded up for questioning, at once.

Laney chuckled and shook her head, "Y'all try not to have too much fun." She smiled at Ron and then turned to leave, patting Nixon on the shoulder as she passed by.

~~~

Ronald Speirs was not the kind of officer made to sit at a desk. He despised it and tried to avoid it at all costs. Now that the Nazis had surrendered however, he found he spent much more time doing exactly that than he did running into the fire. He'd prefer that.

He was leaning on his desk, staring at reports when there was a knock at his door. "Enter." He didn't look up when the door opened. He didn't look up until whoever had come into his office had gone a long moment without speaking. So, annoyed, he stood up straight to address them.

The sight of Lieutenant Elaine Walker in her dress uniform stopped him with his mouth hanging open. The scowl wiped right off his face.

She was biting back a smile by the time he squared himself away.

"Good to see you in proper attire finally, Lieutenant." If his gaze lingered a little too long anywhere she apparantly wasn't going to call him out on it.

"Glad you approve, Sir." She nearly chuckled as she stood before him.

It wasn't that Speirs wasn't used to seeing other nurses on the line in scrounged, patched, borrowed gear. It was also plenty common to see them running around in the more practical uniform of trousers and shirts. So common that Ron hadn't really stopped to consider the alternative.

"God, you are beautiful." He threw pretense out the window. The war was as good as over. They were safe in Austria.

To her credit, as surprised as she appeared to be, Laney laughed. Smiled bright with flushed cheeks. "Glad you finally noticed."

Speirs chuckled, leaned back to sit against the edge of his desk like he had been when she had first entered his office.

"Oh I noticed before but..." He trailed off, honestly not sure how to finish his thought.

Across the room Laney leaned against the doorjam, still smiling. "Amazing what a skirt and pair of heels can do. Isn't it?"

Ron licked his lips and looked down to the floor, chuckling softly. "Unless you prefer your girls in boots and baggy pants." She was poking fun at him now, enjoying her upperhand.

"Come up here just to torture me Lieutenant?" He looked back to her out the corner of his eye, doing his best to sound stern.

She stood up straight, "No Sir, but it is fun." Laney approached him and his desk. She came to a halt a respectable distance away. "The others are still too scared to talk to you." They shared a smile. "Came up to see if Easy was going to require our unit full time or if we could help out the hospital they have set up in town. They need help prepping wounded to relocate or ship back to the states."

Speirs sobered slightly and crossed his arms. "Don't think second Battalion will be seeing much action anytime soon. Surely the hospital needs you more than we do." He seemed regretful to say it, "I'll check with Winters, but I see no harm in it."

"Yes Sir, thank you." Laney nodded and stood up straight, gave him a small, sincere smile. "It's been an honor Captain. For all of us."

Speirs nodded. Looked her in the eye and returned her smile. With a final nod and a click of her heels she turned towards the door and headed to leave.

Ron decided to push his luck just a little further. He stood up straight and called after her, "Laney."

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, but didn't say anything. Just gave him that same, easy smile.

He closed the distance between them and appreciated the fact that even though his strides were purposeful she stood her ground. When he stood in front of her finally he looked her over once more and then settled his gaze on hers. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

By the time his hand had moved to cup her jaw, her gorgeous green eyes had slipped closed and her lips parted for him as soon as his mouth covered hers. He was about to pull back, keep it brief, when she moaned. A tiny, sweet little sound in the back of her throat and Ron decided he wasn't done yet. He slid his hand around from cupping her cheek to hold her by the back of the neck.

That action caused her to lean into him, her hands braced against his chest as their kiss escalated. Finally regaining the little bit control he'd let slip, Ron pulled away from her. Keeping her close with the hand still cradling the back of her neck.

WIth her eyes still closed Laney whined the slightest bit at the loss, the fingers of her right hand fisting into the fabric of his shirt. Ron had to close his eyes and breathe deep.

He allowed himself one more, a soft pass over her lips as he held her chin by his thumb and forfinger. This time when they seperated her eyes were open and she was smiling.

Her eyes locked on his for a moment before she licked her lips and chuckled, "I should go before they start to worry what you might have done to me."

All Ron could do was chuckle and nod. Then kiss her one more time.

"Ron..." She returned the kiss and then chased after another, "I really should go."

He hummed an affirmative just as he pulled her back into him. Smiling into this one, final, kiss as she started to laugh. "You better go."

Laney nodded, rolling her eyes a bit as she pushed away from him. "Y'know..." She backed towards the door, "It's only a five, maybe ten minute drive into town from here."

Ron wached her like a hawk as she backed away from him. Her pupils still dark and wide, her cheeks a pretty pink. He pursed his lips and nodded, "Good to know."

God help him and his unholy thoughts as he watched her wink and turn away from him to finally walk out of his office. He kept his eyes on her backside until all that remained was the sound of her heels clicking down the halls.

Mind spinning with the possibiliies he reached into his shirt pocket for his smokes and frowned when he came up empty handed. He swtiched and reached into his other pocket but no luck. He finally cracked a wide smile and laughed quietly to himself as he looked out the empty doorway. With a shake of his head he walked back around his desk and dropped into his chair, already formulating a plan to go steal them back.

~~~

Laney smiled up at him as soon as she opened the door. "Captain, odd seeing you here this late."

"Your friends downstairs think you're in some kind of trouble." Ron cocked his head at her, keeping up the charade of a disgruntled CO.

"Am I?" She leaned against the door and looked up at him expectantly. "Depends on if you used up all my smokes." He cracked a small smirk.

Laney stepped back, leaving the door open, and walked across her small hotel room to pick up a pack of cigarettes off the dressing table. She held them out at arms length and Speirs took the hint to come rest the way into the room.

He swung the door shut behind him and took the smokes from her. After a quick glance at the pack he looked back at her. "You didn't take any."

She shrugged, "Don't smoke."

Ron scoffed and tossed the pack back where she had grabbed it. Then he reached for the sleeve of her shirt. Tugging her closer as he looked her over.

She'd removed her jacket and tie, kicked off her heels and was walking around in stocking feet. Her hair was down too and Speirs realized he'd never seen it that way. It was a pretty auburn color and hung just past her shoulders.

Laney came easily when he pulled her to him, resting her hands on his torso as she stepped in close. Her voice was soft as she asked, "How long can you stay?"

His hands settled on her waist and pulled her the last little bit closer. "Awhile."

This time when he kissed her she stood up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. And this time he didn't have to stop.

~~~

Ron found he couldn't tell her no when she asked so sweet, voice soft and sleepy with her eyes fighting to stay open, for him to stay. She felt so good; naked and warm and relaxed as she lay beside him.

Laney had laid her head on his chest while he smoked a cigarette, her leg hooked over his and her fingers tangled in the chain of his dog tags.

He smiled when he felt her breathing get shallow and the unmistakeable twitches as she fought sleep. Ron switched his cigarette to the other hand and tipped her face up to his. His own eyes were growing heavy as he smiled at her softly, fondly. "I'll have to get up early."

She huffed out a snicker and pried her eyes open, "As long as you're quiet about it."

WIth a shake of his head Ron rolled his eyes and dropped his head back into the pillows, more relaxed than he'd been in too long. He took a long drag, hurrying to finish the last of the cigarette, "Oh you're waking up too, sweetheart,"

"No Sir." The humor in her voice was as thick as the exhaustion and the southern accent. "Not a chance."

Ron smiled around the end of his cigarette and let smoke roll out with his chuckle. He stretched one long arm out to snub it out in a dish on the table and tipped her face back to him as he settled into bed fully. "Darlin," He kissed her firmly and thouroughly and when he finished his sentence he did it a breath away from her lips, "If I wake up in bed with you I'm gonna have to have you again."

Ron kissed her again, before she could form a response and so it came out as a pleased little moan in the back of her throat. When he did pull away she was smiling, "I'll allow it."

God she made him smile. He had started to realize that, when it was just the two of them, he couldn't help himself. Especially now that they were kissing and falling into bed together. Speirs ran his fingers through her hair and cupped the back of her neck to kiss her once more, "Good night sweetheart."

Laney smiled into the kiss and her whole body seemed to melt, "Good night." She was asleep as soon as her head laid back on his chest and with a content sight Ron let his eyes fall closed and followed right behind her.

~~~

A few days later Laney was in a jeep with three other girls heading around the lake and up the hill to Batallion HQ. The hospital that had been set up was immediately flooded and was already low on supplies. They'd volunteered to make a run to batallion mostly just for an excuse to get out of the wards.

The nurse driving slowed down as they came to the guard gate. While the guard checked their papers Marge, the girl riding shotgun, pointed to a field ahead of them and off to the side. "Would ya look at that?" The guard let them through and they all looked where Marge was pointing.

Out in the field Easy Company was doing morning PT. Even from this distance Laney could recognize Ron standing at the front of the formation. As their jeep came closer they could hear him too.

Back in the jeep they had slowed to almost a crawl, all of the girls staring on with no shame. Marge spoke up, "Man what I'd give to be down there."

"Doing pushups?" the girl driving asked.

"No, on my back under one of those paratroopers." Marge joked, eyes still fixed on the company as they kept up their pushups.

"Jesus Christ Marge." Laney and the girl beside her both laughed.

Marge continued, "Have you seen some of these guys? I mean I can see their muscles from here."

Down on the field Speirs was yelling again. He had the men holding on an up and apparantly some of the replacements weren't performing up to his standards. From their spot on the road the nurses could see the backs of some of the men shifting, the strain of holding that position for too long too much on them.

Claire, usually one of the quieter ones, spoke up. "I'm half scared of him, but boy that Captain Speirs..." She didn't finish her thought beyond that.

Claire was a new addition to their unit, she hadn't been around for the early days when Speirs was more often covered in sweat, mud and blood. She only knew the clean cut, squared away Captain.

Up front Marge snorted, "I don't know what's got him in a mood today, but I tell you what, I'd let him yell at me like that all he wanted."

Laney laughed, "Marge you got somehin' wrong with you, y'know that right?" She knew it was the replacements that were grating on him. He had complained about them the night before. The newest of them had barely seen real combat and as far as he was concerned that meant they'd never be good enough. The training they'd received before shipping out was nowhere near enough and it showed.

"All I'm sayin' is, if he wanted to... he could." Marge winked at them all and left the rest up for interpretation.

Again Clare surprised them all a little, "I'd just be happy if he came in to get stitched up, even once. Just to see him with his shirt off."

She was glad none of them were looking at her when she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. "You said the same thing about Nixon, and Major Winters."

"And Bull, and Lieutenant Lipton." Marge added on with a laugh. "But come on Elaine, you sayin' you wouldn't want to get some exercise with one of those strapping, young men?"

The jeep was moving again and Laney spared one more glance at Speirs, up on his feet again and giving orders. "I can't stand push-ups."

The girls all laughed and continued on towards the HQ. Laney thought to herself, still fighting back a smirk, she wasn't one to get overly crude or share gratuitous details with the girls, but there was a little part of her that would get some real enjoyment out of wiping that smirk off Marge's face.

Marge and Laney were two of the four nurses that still remained of their original unit and so they had known eachother since the beginning. They were good friends, but certainly had their differences. Marge had never hidden that she liked certain things about her men, and enjoyed certain activities in the bedroom other girls would balk at.

Laney knew this about her and one of these days she fully intended to ruin Marge's daydreams about Captain Ronald Speirs.

Her friend Marge had made poor Claire blush so red the other night Laney thougt they might have to get the poor girl a bag of ice and a rosary. Recounting a story of a rendevous she'd had with an RAF pilot that involved some ropeburns, plenty of bruises and if Laney were honest, if a man had said the things to her that pilot had said to Marge, well... she would have pistol whipped him. That was Marge though, she liked that kind of thing.

When Laney sat there in that jeep and thought about being with Ron the the last few weeks, especially the night before, she smirked.

He'd been waiting in her room for her when she'd come back from her last rounds of the night. She found him sitting in the chair by the window with his boots up on the sill and a cigarette in his hand. He hadn't even said anything when she came in, just watched her as she kicked off her heels and walked over towards him. WIth one last drag on his cigarette he tossed it out the window, then reached out for her waist and pulled her down onto his lap.

"Hey." She leaned down to kiss him. It was almost habit already.

His kissed her back and gave her hip a squeeze. Watching her as she immediately settled her weight into him and closed her eyes. "Tired?"

"Mhmm." was her only response.

Of his own accord Speirs began pulling the pins from her hair until he could comb his fingers through it. For such a violent and intimidating solider, with her he was a gentle man. Sure he'd given her a swat on the ass here and there if she talked back and he could certainly manhandle her around the bedroom, but he'd never hit her or hurt her, she knew that. They'd tease eachother, he'd whisper things in her ear that made her cheeks bloom red but he'd never disrespect her.

As she had sat there in his lap, his fingers combing out her hair Laney couldn't help the feeling that overtook her. The way he looked at her so intensely, so intently. He was a hard man, all muscle and backbone, no fear of death. He was a leader of hard men. An animal. A killer. Yet, as she leaned down to kiss him she had felt his hand so soft and careful at her cheek, his rough thumb stroking her delicate skin.

She was certain then and she was certain now, she was falling in love with Captain Ronald Speirs. The only reason that didn't scare the absolute hell out of her was because she was fairly certain he was falling in love with her too.

~~~

Laney lay in bed on her stomach, snuggled in blankets and her arms wrapped around the pillow where she rested her head. She was beyond comfortable and watched with a slight smile on her face as Ron reassembled the handgun he had just meticulously cleaned.

He sat on the couch across the small apartment from her, wearing only a pair of trousers he had pulled back on and his dog tags. His hair a dishevelled mess, a cigartte hung from his lips and smoke rolled out his nose as his steady and practiced hands moved through the pieces of his sidearm until it was whole again. Shiny, spotless and in perfect working order. He blew out a puff of smoke as he worked the slide back and forth a couple times, then squeezed the trigger and let it snap forward with finality. His thumb released the hammer before he set the .45 down on the table and grabbed the cigarette from his mouth to knock the ash off into a tray. "You're staring." His voice was soft and low and he grinned without looking her way.

Laney smiled wider and stretched slightly under the sheets. "You're fun to stare at."

Speirs snorted out a laugh as he reached for the rag and jar of polish also on the table. "Why don't you get some sleep sweetheart?" He prompted as he popped open the tin of polish and swiped the rag through it. Setting the tin down and picking up one of his boots.

"Mmmm, not all that tired yet." Finally Ron looked up at her, barely turning in her direction, with a hint of a smirk on his face, "Sayin' I didn't wear you out enough?"

Laney giggled and felt her cheeks flush. "Oh that's not what I'm sayin' at all." She bit her lip when Ron gave her a smile and a wink. "You just shine your boots and let me enjoy the view." He snorted out another chuckle and went to work polishing his boots while Laney burrowed in deeper and did just that.

She didn't think she'd ever get tired of seeing him like this. Half naked, skin still glowing with a sheen of sweat in the lamplight, scars and hard earned muscle on display certainly, but also relaxed, smiling, teasing. She also found she enjoyed when she got to watch him in his element, even when it was something as simple as getting himself squared away for the ceremony tomorrow.

"Ron?" Laney broke the silence a bit later.

"Hmm?" Was his only response. "You have any books to read?"

"Tired of the view already?" He poked at her as he worked a brush back and forth over the leather of a boot.

"No just askin' is all." She caught the look he gave her, a sideeyed smirk, and she bit her lip.

He had mentioned before how he liked that her southern accent got a little thicker when she was tired. Proof he had worn her out after all. Attention back on his boot Ron answered her, "Had a couple one of the boys loaned me, gave 'em to Lip the other day though."

Laney groaned a little disappointed.

"Just down the hall."

"I'm not gonna just knock on his door in the middle of the night." Laney scoffed.

"He's not there." Ron examined the boot carefully before going back to it, "Filling in at the checkpoint tonight." Laney stayed silent for awhile, weighing her options. "Just put some clothes on and go get one." Before she could respond Ron tossed his other boot at her, it bounced on the bed right in front of her and he grinned, "Either that or lend a hand."

She didn't see Ron stop what he was doing to watch her. Didn't see the way his eyes tracked her the second she was out from under the covers, as she walked to pick up the shirt draped over the back of a chair and then buttoned it as she padded to the door on bare feet. It wasn't until she was at the door that she stopped and caught him looking.

He gave her an easy smile for being caught out. "To the right, door across the hall."

She felt silly as she snuck the short way down the hall in nothing but a collared shirt. At the door she stopped and listened for a long moment. When she didn't hear anything she knocked softly and waited again. When there was still silence she twisted the doorknob and poked her head inside.

The room was dark so she had to flip the light on and a part of her still expected to accidentally wake up Lieutenant Lipton. That was not the case however and all she found was empty room and after some searching a small stack of books on a table by the bed. Carefully she picked one up and turned to head back out the door.

Only to be stopped dead in her tracks by the solider himself standing in the door. "Ma'am." For Liptons part he looked more embarrased the Laney did. His eyes darting everywhere but her.

"Lieutenant," Laney gave a smile and shuffled her feet, "Sorry to snoop, but..." She held up the book, "Tryin' to find somethin' to read."

Lip nodded meeting her eye finally, "Not a problem." He unslung his rifle and gestured to the stack of books, "To be honest with you though, the other one is better."

Laney chuckled at the awkwardness of it all and nodded, taking his advice she switched out the books and moved to sneak back out of the room. "Night Lip."

Behind her Lip smiled, "Night Elaine."

She lingered in the hall until she heard his door shut, and then she scurried across the hall and snuck back in to Ron's quarters. She barely had the door closed before she was laying into Speirs. "Why didn't you tell me he would be on his way back?"

Ron looked up, confused at first, and then chuckled. "Laney..."

"I'm glad you think it's funny!" She continued as she stalked across the rooms towards him, "I had to hide in the hall until I knew for sure he had his door closed. So, he didn't see what room I went back to!"

Still grinning Ron set his boot down on the floor and tossed the rag on the table. "Come here." He waved her over and she came, even though she was scowling. Once she was close enough he took her by the hips and pulled her down to straddle his lap. Ron held her there and gave her a kiss, "Baby," he gave her another kiss and then caught her eye, "Shirt you're wearin' still has my bars on the collar." He reached up to tug at the collar of his shirt for emphasis, unable to hold back his shit eating grin.

Laney turned bright red again. "Oh my God, wipe that stupid smirk off your face!" She smacked him in the chest, "I could literally kill you right now." She twisted her neck, first to look down at the bars in question and then to the shoulder to see for herself, the screaming eagle patch, the combination as good as a dead giveaway.

Ron just grinned and and pulled her to him for another kiss. "Looks good on you."

"I'm serious." She mumbled against his lips.

"So am I." He continued to kiss her, his hand at the collar slid up the side of her neck and carressed her there.

She relaxed a little, let herself sink further into him. When she pulled back her eyes were softer, but she still grumbled, "I'm mad at you."

Ron chuckled and dropped both hands back to her hips , "I know." He tugged her hips tighter against his own and kissed her slowly, "Someone must have relieved him early." With another soft, slow kiss he looked her in the eye, still with a smirk on his face and promised her, "Lipton won't say anything sweetheart."

Laney smacked him half-heartedly on the chest with the book. "Would you care if he did?"

Licking his lips he held her gaze, "Would you?"

He kissed her again, neither of them needing to answer the question outloud, before she laid down on the couch beside him, tucked her feet into his lap and picked up the book. Ron stroked a hand up her long, bare leg and watched her for a moment. Taking his turn to the enjoy the view, more than appreciating the sight of her in nothing but his shirt, captains bars and all.

"Boots aren't gonna polish themselves trooper." Laney admonished from behind her book, a smirk evident in her voice.

Speirs grinned and gave her calf a squueze before reaching for his boot and polish again.

That next morning when Laney woke up she was warm and comfortable in bed, light shining through the windows and Ron sitting next to her on the edge of the bed. He had his hand on her back to coax her awake. "Time to get up sweetheart" His voice was hoarse, like he hadn't got enough sleep.

Laney groaned and squinted against the sun. "What time is it?"

Ron repeated, "Time to get up." then gave her another shake.

She grumbled again, and wondered how late he had stayed up the night before. She didn't remember, but she must have fallen asleep on the couch. Which would mean Ron must have carried her to bed. That thought made her smile and she rolled over, stretching out her tired muscles and looking up at Ron.

He was freshly shaved and his hair was combed. His eyes still tired but his face looked soft, at ease. "You look good." Her half awake brain betrayed her and she let the words slip out aloud.

Ron smiled, breathed out a quiet chuckle, and leaned down to give her a quick kiss. "Sweet. You still gotta get up."

Laney chuckled a little at herself as she sat up with a groan. Her new position put them face to face and she smiled. "I'm up."

"Mhmm." His eyes looked her over before he kissed her again. With the last pass of his lips he reached up to the collar of his shirt she still wore and unpinned his insignia. "Need these." He stood up from the bed then and turned to go to the mirror.

"Here," Laney stopped him as she crawled out from under the covers. She took the pins from him and straightened his collar before she snapped them into place. FIrst his infantry insignia and then his captains bars. As she adjusted the bars Rons hands settled low on her hips, and then he slid them down to cup her ass with a smirk. Laney returned his smirk and looped her arms around his neck.

They stayed that way for a moment until Laney broke the silence. "Why'd you let me sleep so late?"

Ron pulled her closer, his eyes darted all over her face until he settled them on hers. "I like keepin' you here long as I can." When that made her smile he gave her one more kiss. "Get dressed. I'll call you a jeep up."

~~~

Laney sat at the end of the couch reading a book she'd got second or third hand from one of the girls. One hand kept the book balanced on the armrest while the other rested on Rons chest. Her palm tucked inside his partially unbuttoned shirt with her fingers stroking idly back and forth as she read.

Ron laid stretched out over the length of the sofa, his head in her lap and his eyes closed. He'd dozed off with a cigarette still smoking in the ashtray.

It wasn't even midnight yet when pounding on the door startled them both. "Captain!" Bang! Bang! Bang! "Captain Speirs Sir!"

Laney's heart thudded in her ears as Ron shot up from her lap, "Jesus Christ," He laid a hand on her thigh as he stood up, "Stay."

Ron got off the couch and strode to the front door. "What?"

"It's Grant Sir, he's been shot. It's real bad Sir."

"Fuck. Give me a minute."

"Sir!" "

What?"

"I think it was one of our own guys." Speirs swung the door closed and went to grab his jacket and cap.

"Ron, what's going on?" Laney had walked out to the entryway behind him and was watching Ron with wide eyes.

He grabbed his gun belt off the chair, "Someone's been shot. Stay here."

"Jesus...I'll come with you." Laney moved to grab her jacket but the tone of his voice stopped her cold.

"No."

"Ron, I can help. I should go."

"No!" Ron stopped her as he strapped on his gun belt, "I said stay here."

Laney shrunk slightly, but did not argue. This was Captain Speirs, not Ron, giving her an order "Okay."

Once Ron made it down to the jeep and saw Grant however, he changed his mind. He grabbed the private that had driven the jeep up, "Go get Laney. Now!"

"Laney, sir?"

With one hand holding the plasma bottle for Doc Roe he grabbed the private by the collar with the other, "Liutenant Walker. She's upstairs, in my quarters. Go get her, now!"

As soon as the private returned with Elaine in tow her mouth dropped open at the sight of the man now laid on a stretcher on the hood of a jeep, "What the hell happened?" Without waiting for an answer she jumped in to help Eugene.

"He been shot." The cajun deadpanned as he tried to start an IV.

"God...." Laney stared at the mangled side of the boys head for a moment before she grabbed for Roe's bag and dug for a bandage, She turned to Ron, "The surgeon, they're set up at the school in town."

WIth a short nod Ron hoisted her up onto the hood of the jeep and turned to the privates, "Find Talbert, tell him where we're going."

In town the men had carried Grant inside while Laney ran to find the surgeon. She had found him asleep at his desk with an empty bottle of schnapps still in his lap. Throwing rules and regulations out the window she all but drug him to the gymnasium.

Where she stood there and watched Ron hold his young Sargents hand. "Jesus,"

"What?" Ron looked up at the surgeon.

"He's not gonna make it." The surgeon mumbled around a cigarette.

Roe questioned, "You can't operate on him?"

"Not me, you'd need a brain surgeon." The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose already walking away, "Even then I don't think he stands a chance."

Laney stood beside Doc Roe and watched their faces fall, watched Ron clench and unclench his jaw. As the surgeon walked away she breathed deep and caught Rons eye, "Ron."

He looked up, eyes hard and jaw set, even as he still stroked a thumb back and forth over Grants unmoving hand.

"There's a hospital, a German hospital, in the next town. A real hospital."

~~~

Unsure what else to do, Laney had gone back to Rons room and waited. She sat in the dark, in a chair in the corner of the room, and stared out the window until she heard the door knob turn.

Rons eye's were cold and distant when he walked through the door. His frame rigid and his stride very much that of the stoic commander and not his somestimes causual swagger. His eyes jumped to her briefly but did not stay. He first shut the door behind him and turned the lock and then unbuckled his gunbelt to hang it on the hook.

Speirs did not speak as he walked over to the table beside her and grabbed a cigarette from the pack he had left there.

It was when he raised the lighter to the end of the cigarette that she noticed the red on his hand. "Ron, there's blood on your hand."

She reached out to grab his wrist but he carefully tugged it away from her. "Let me see."

"It's not mine." His voice was low and as cold as the look in his eyes.

"Grant?" She probed, looking down at her own hands briefly. She did not think the blood was his either.

Ron inhaled a deep drag off the cigarette and finally spared her a look, "Kraut doctor says he'll make it."

Her gaze slid back to the blood on his hand, "Did they find the guy?"

He did not answer right away. Instead he walked to the wash basin and scrubbed the blood from his hands, cigarette hanging from his lips the whole time. Ron didn't even bother drying his hands before he shrugged out of this jacket, tossed his cover on a table and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. Finally, as he sat on the bed to unlace his boots, he paused and leaned his elbows on his knees. "Yeah." After a moment he resumed unlacing his boots, "We found him."

Laney watched, mesmerized as Rons hands flew through the laces. The steady, back and forth motion of him unlacing first one boot and then the other gave her something to focus on. Rather than think about the blood on his hands. Once his boots were off and tossed towards they're normal spot Ron leaned his elbows on his knees again and hung his head. "MPs have him."

She did not expect the wave of relief that poured over her. Laney stood up then and moved to stand in front of Ron. She carefully, with a featherlight touch, stroked a hand over his dissheveled hair. She couldn't describe how grateful she was that Ron had not done something to the man. As much as he certainly deserved it. There was no doubt in her mind that Ron would murder the man for what he had done to Grant. The problem was they weren't on the front now, something like that couldn't just be written off as a tall tale anymore.

Ron hummed slightly at her touch and so she thredded her fingers through his hair and combed it back from his face. After the third or fourth pass he sat up straight and with one last, long drag he pulled the cigarette out of his lips. He tipped his head back to look up at her and with the hand not holding the cigarette he pulled Laney closer.

Unsure what else to do she combed her fingers through Ron's hair one more time and spoke softly. "Should try to get some rest."

His eyes closed briefly as her fingers passed through his hair and then he opened them again and nodded. He said nothing as he stood up. He moved to step away from the bed and Laney but he stopped, his hand still on her hip, and leaned down to press a kiss to her temple.

Later, in the early morning hours, once Laney had finally fallen asleep, Ron laid in bed and smoked the rest of his pack of cigarettes. The whole time he had stared at the far wall, seeing nothing, and stroking his free hand over Laney's bare shoulder.

~~~

"How come you've never asked?" Ron interrupted the silence one evening, letting smoke roll out through his nose as they lay in bed together.

"Asked what?" She had to tilt her head up to look at him from where she lay on his chest. Her thumb absentmindedly stroking a scar low on his hip from a machine gun round he'd caught while still a platoon leader with Dog Company. His second purple heart.

He looked down at Laney, eyes soft behind the hair hanging down over his brow. "If the stories are true."

Laney put her head back where it had been, her ear resting over his steady beating heart. "Well," She started out, "The way I see it, you shooting one of your guys is...unlikely, the Germans though. I figure that's probably true, whatever number it actually was."

His hand strocked up and down her back once before he settled it low on her hip where it had started. "That's it?"

She pushed herself up on one elbow so she could look him in the eye. "Am I wrong?"

Ron took another drag on his cigarette and turned his head to the side to exhale the smoke away from her. When he met her eyes again he reached up and swept a strand of hair out of her face. "What would you think of me if it was true?"

Laney plucked the cigarette from his lips and leaned across him to put it out in the bowl he'd been using as an ashtray. Though his hand smoothed over her bare back as she did so he looked less than pleased when she settled back next to him which just made her grin. "Little late to ask that now, don't ya think?" She leaned down to kiss him but pulled back before they could get carried away again.

They'd been in Austria long enough now Speirs was getting used to having a warm bed to sleep in everynight and a beautiful woman to share it with. There'd been plenty of times during their time on the line and then travelling through Germany when he'd wondered why she never seemed uncomfortable around him when so many others did.

These last few weeks when they'd been spending more time together, getting closer, sleeping together, the thought had been nagging at him more. "Kept expecting you to bring it up." He sat up a little further against the headboard, reached up to push some hair behind her ear and pulled her down to kiss him again, a little longer this time.

With a deep breath Laney licked her top lip and made certain he was looking her in the eye. "Ron," She paused to kiss him again, "You smoke like a chimney, you're a kleptomaniac,"

Ron snorted, "Kleptomaniac."

"You enjoy terrifying people, a little too much if we're being honest, you have no sense of self-preservation," She paused and tipped his chin back towards her as he had tipped it up and away to stare at the ceiling. Once he was looking at her again she added one final thing, "and you have this tiny little scar on your face right here." She poked at it, teasing, "But that's kinda growing on me."

His eyes were hard when he arched his brow at her, waiting for her to make her point, but the hand on the small of her back was still gentle as he stroked it up and down the base of her spine.

"These are all things about you that bother me."

Ron rolled his eyes again and shook his head.

"The fact that you are a soldier that has to do things, that has to follow and give orders, that I... and people like me could never imagine living with... that will never bother me. Doing what you had to do to survive this thing and to be a good solider, that will never bother me."

He didn't say anything at first. Just held her gaze intently. When he did speak it was under his breath, "Kleptomaniac." Followed by a snort of derision which just made Laney giggle as she settled back against his chest.

"That's the one that got you?" She toyed with his dog tags as she chuckled to herself.

With one arm wrapped around her waist to hold her firm he responded, "If it bothers you why don't you give it all back?" He pinched her side, taking the opportunity to tease her back. Ron knew good and well she had a stash in her foot locker of the trinkets he'd been acquiring for her. Including the silver comb wrapped safely in a silk scarf.

Raising up again to look him in the eye she feigned outrage, "Now Sparky, there's no need to be drastic."

"Oh," Ron nodded dramatically at the drop of the nickname, "I see how it is." He cracked a smirk and flipped her over onto her back and kissed her while she laughed. "Well, for the record..." He waited for her to focus up, "You snore."

Her eyes flew wide, "I do not!" She shoved at his chest and shoulders, his laughter only stoking her irritation.

His muscle and bodyweight was no match for hers and so he continued to keep her pinned down, one hand keeping her hands at bay. "You do too, sweetheart. Mouth open and everything."

Laney struggled to get a hand free or any sort of leverage to push him off of her, even as Ron began kissing from her collar bone, up her neck to her ear. She had calmed down quite a bit by the time he sucked her earlobe into his mouth. When he heard her let out a soft sigh he kissed behind her ear and whisperd, "But that's ok, it's kind of growing on me."

She was giggling again and as soon as he released her hands they were on his back and pulling him closer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This time when she woke up the sun was peaking through the windows and Ron was still in bed with her. He'd fallen asleep with his arms around her and had kept her pulled close the rest of the night.

Laney could barely remember ever sleeping so good as she had the last month or so. Whether she came up to the house he and a few other officers had commendeared or Ron snuck off to the hotel in town where her and the other doctors and nurses were staying. Nobody that knew batted an eye anymore. It all felt a little surreal if she thought about it too much. Where they were, how they'd come to be here and what had brought them together. Something else she tried not to think about was what would happen when the 101st got shipped off to the Pacific and Ron would leave. Part of her sometimes feared that would be the end of this.

"I can hear you thinking." Rons voice was rough and gravelly. It often was when he first woke up. Too many cigarettes.

Laney scoffed and closed her eyes, pushing back into him and snuggling as close as she could before he'd have to get up for the day.

Behind her Ron coughed and then twisted her around until she was draped over his chest, her leg hooked over his waist and his hand stroking her thigh. "What's on your mind?"

For a long moment Laney didn't answer him. Ron just held her close and continued to play with her hair.

After she took a deep breath Laney shuffled up a little higher so her face was burrowed against his neck. The stubble on his jaw scratching pleasently against her temple. "You're going to stay in the Army aren't you?"

Ron took a deep breath of his own and when he answered his voice was stil rough, his lips brushing against the hair at the crown of her head. "Yeah." He nodded and then dropped a kiss there. When she didn't repond further, Speirs added. "That's what you're thinkin' about."

It wasn't a question and so she didn't say anything.

"Sweetheart, look at me a second." Ron kissed the top of her head again before tipping her chin up to look at him. "It's where I belong."

Laney was annoyed that her eyes were burning and she had to fight back the tears, "I know." She closed her eyes, trying not to embarass herself.

"Will you wait that long?" HIs voice was almost a whisper and Ron didn't even try to make her look at him.

Her eyes snapped open though as she twisted her head to look at him, confused.

"Until I get back from Japan?" His expression was unreadable and he continued on in her stupified silence. "I'd prefer to buy you a ring, do the church, class As, white gown and all that." His lips twitched but he fought it and kept going, "If you don't wanna wait I understand. We can always find a chaplain. I'm sure I can find a ring that'll fit but I figure you'll give me hell if I steal our wedding rings."

"What the hell are you talking about?" It came out much more aggressive than she meant but Laney was sitting up now wideeyed and staring at Speirs like he was delusional.

Licking his lips all he could do was smile, pry his eyes away from her exposed breasts as he sat up and leaned back against the headboad. The sheets pooled in his lap. His smile grew a touch wider when he watched her eyes dart from his face to the spot where his dogtags hung against his chest, then lower and then back. Once she was looking at him he clarifed, "Would you rather get married now, before Easy ships out to the Pacific or do you want to wait until I'm back? Do everything the right way?"

Laney could not stop staring at him blankly. This was not how she imagined this conversation going. "Don't you think you should be asking a different question first, Captain?"

Ron knew the title was a dig, payback for the trouble he was putting her through.

"Oh no, I already know the answer to that question sweetheart."

He looked so smug she wanted to smack him across the face. But as she sat there in bed glaring at him his words sank in, really sank in. Once she started to smile she couldn't stop it. Even as she shoved her finger in his face, "Ronald Speirs, if you steal me a wedding ring I will kill you. Do you understand me?"

Breaking out in laughter Ron reached for her and pulled her so that she straddled his lap. "Understood." He pulled her in for a kiss. Keeping her there until his hands on her hips coulld pull her tight and close. His chuckle was almost a growl when she rocked her hips against him once only for her to slip away and shake her head at him.

"No sir," She crawled off his lap, batted his hands away as she tugged the covers up around her, "You're still in the army so no funny business, you have to get up and report to PT." She pushed and shoved him out of the bed with laughter and a smile on her face ear to ear.

Accepting his fate Ron stopped at the edge of the bed and leaned over her. "Laney,"

Her smile softened as she looked up at him, eyes darting to the side as he twined his fingers through hers.

"I love you and I am going to marry you."

~~~The End~~~

[malarkgirlypop]

The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie

YEEHAW AND HOWDY PARTNERS, ARE YA'LL ALL SADDLED UP?

This is the AU from the moodboard I created for Cowboy Malark. I have become completely obsessed with him and I have no idea who long this is going to be. But slay, if no one else likes it, that's fine I will have him all to my self ehehe.

This based on the characters from the HBO show and the actors who portray them. No hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @deputy-buck, @ronald-speirs, @whollyjoly, @footprintsinthesxnd, @next-autopsy, (let me know if you want to be tagged in this series x)

Malarkey rose with the sun. The sound of the early birds chirping, the crisp morning air, Malarkey always liked to be the first one awake. He often pretended he was the only person alive in the world, during these times.

He sipped his coffee, sitting on the porch overlooking the ranch. They had hectares of land sprawling over the lush green mountains. On those mountains were their livestock, roaming freely on the land. Malarkey often dreamed of being one of them, no shackles holding them back, they were free to go where they pleased, unaware of the danger that surrounded them. 

Don finished the bitter drink, putting his mug in the sink. His gear was packed for today, and he was ready for it. 

Today they were mustering the livestock back to the main fields for health checks, shearing, deworming, breeding and the works. It was going to be a long ride; he first had to find the stock in the miles and miles of land, and then bring them back to the ranch in one piece. It wasn’t easy work, but Don was no stranger to this operation. In fact he looked forward to it. A whole day just him, the dogs and his horse. No one could ask for a better day. 

“Scout, Tiller! Let’s go!” Don called the collie and cattle dogs. They raised their heads from their slumber, slowly making their way out to Don. 

“Don’t look so sleepy you two, big day today.” He spoke to the dogs who stretched their long bodies. 

With the two dogs in tow, Don made his way to the barn.

“Hey, Lady!” Don spoke to the horse who nickered gently back at him. He pressed his hand into the bridge of her nose and she nuzzled against him. Him and Lady went way back. He had brought her up as a foal, when her mother died. Don had hand reared the newborn all by himself. Now they were as thick as thieves, Skip and Alex often said they were somehow so alike. 

Don prepped Lady for the ride. Since it was going to be a long day, he had ensured to bring water and snacks for the dogs and him. Don had also packed for an emergency stay as well, sometimes things went wrong up in the mountains, livestock could get lost or injured as he led them back down, or it could take longer for him to find them. So he ensured he packed warm gear, a tent, his sleeping bag and everything else he could need for if he was stuck for a couple nights up in the mountain. Lady could eat the greenery and drink from the river if she needed. 

Don checked all of her hooves, but he knew her shoes would be fine since he was the one who had fitted them. Along with being the musterer, he also was the ranch farrier. The men often said that Don enjoyed the company of the animals more than people. They weren’t wrong, Donald often preferred to speak to the animals quietly as he worked. He would tell them all his secrets and worries, even though they couldn’t speak back he knew they understood him. But there were some people he often preferred the company of better than the animals. His Easy men. The men who worked tirelessly alongside him on the ranch. Though they weren’t related by blood, they were his chosen family. They had come from all over the country to move into the ranch and start the business. It had been shaky at the start since they didn’t have much money but after a while it all came together. The men couldn’t be happier off in their own little paradise with their friends, doing the jobs they loved. They all had their roles and took them very seriously. 

Don loaded his rifle, ensuring the safety was on before slinging it over his back. Lady was all ready for the hike and so were the dogs, restlessly playing with each other in the hay. 

Don led Lady out into the field with Scout and Tiller on their heels. He glanced back at the ranch, seeing all the rooms still dark with curtains pulled. He mounted up into the worn saddle, nudging Lady in her side with a click of his tongue, she was off walking. 

The walk up the mountains was peaceful. The sounds of nature were calming as Don just quietly existed. These mountains were mostly untouched by human hands, only the men from Easy venturing out into the thick woods. The trees seemed to know the men. Don had been lucky, at how all the previous musterings had gone. He believed the mountains and nature knew he meant no harm and let him pass freely. Scout and Tiller didn’t go far from him, there were predators far greater and stronger than them in these woods. The dogs knew their limits of how far they would stray before it becomes too dangerous. Hence why Don carried a gun. Mountain lions, Wolves, Coyotes, and Bears were to name a few of the predators that called the forest home. Most of the livestock survived, they were smart and knew when to move. But with the mating season coming up, the birth of new animals would cause unwanted attention. That is why the mustering would be important, getting the stock down to the fields closer to the ranch for the men to keep a watchful eye on. It would cost the men a lot of stock if they weren’t to move them. 

Don breathed in letting the crisp air fill his lungs. Lady began to walk slower, stopping more frequently to try and eat. Malarkey knew the ques of his horse, she was getting tired. He dismounted with ease, putting the reigns behind her head so that she could walk around and graze in the meadow he had stopped in. He gathered the supplies he needed from Lady’s saddle bags. Sitting under the shade of the big oak tree that stood alone in the field. Scout and Tiller came to rest under the tree as well, tongues lolling from their mouths as they panted. Don poured water he had carried for them into a bowl, they lapped frantically at the water getting their fill. Don also put out the food he had brought them, Scout and Tiller almost finishing their food instantly. Don chuckled watching them scoff down the food as quickly as possible. 

“Gosh you act like we don’t feed you.” He teased, patting the dogs as they ate. Don soon got to his own meal once everyone else had been looked after. Pouring himself a hot drink from the flask he had brought, and chomping into the sandwich that Lipton had made him the previous night from him to take. After eating his fill, Don leaned back against the thick trunk of the tree. Resting his hat over his eyes to shield from the warm sun that filtered through the leaves. In his head he thought about where he saw the stock last. As they had walked he kept an eye out for tracks and scat to figure out how long ago the stock had moved through there. From his findings they hadn’t been at the edge of the woods where they had moved through in a while. Most likely finding shelter up in the higher mountain ranges. As most of the predators didn’t venture up that far, due to the cold and treacherous terrain. Don knew he would have to hike further up into the mountain out of the trees and into the rocky landscape if he wanted to find the stock. He sighed removing the hat from his face, they had rested long enough, it was time to move on again. 

It wasn’t long before they found the edge of the woods, the trees dispersed slowly, leaving them exposed to the cold wind. Donald zipped up the front of his thick wool lined jacket, it was worn but it did the job keeping out frigid gale. The signs of the stock were getting closer as well, Don knew he was on the right track. He had spotted fresh scat and tracks from the animals, they had been here recently. He followed his intuition, but the beasts were also predictable. Don knew all of their favorite spots up in the mountain. There were certain clearings that held fresh grass for them to graze and a couple of groups of trees for shelter. They would go where they felt most safe, Don knew exactly where that was. Scout and Tiller’s ears perked, whining lowly, they had heard the stock, so they were close. 

The dogs led the way, using their strong noses and keen senses to track the animals down. Don followed behind them, Lady working hard up the hill. She was an Australian stock horse, she could run fast but only for short bursts. Lady was known for her hardy breed, endurance, sure footedness, agility, and good temperament. She was the loveliest horse they had on the ranch. Well that’s what Don said but he was biased since he raised her. The men all had their own horse, they all had stories of how they came into possession of the horse that they owned. But the men all loved their animals fiercely, they were part of the family. 

The dogs Scout and Tiller were also Don’s. Scout’s mother, Winters’ dog, Poppy had given birth to the litter after Lew’s dog, Whiskey, had gotten her pregnant. They had a big litter of 10, Don had chosen the runt, which was Scout. She was a good dog, one of the best herders in the packs of mutts they had on the ranch. Don trained her tirelessly, but Collies were smart and keen herders, it was easy for her to pick up. Tiller, the cattle dog, was found on the side of the street. Some low life had dumped him on the side of the highway, left for dead. Don had made Skip turn all the way back around in a loop so he could pick him up. He had cared for all his animals with so much love, the men often teased that he had chosen all of the outcasts, the unlucky ones. Don didn't see them as that though, they were strong and resilient, fighting against all odds to survive.         

Don could now hear the stock, their low moo’s echoed around the mountain. They arrived just out of sight from the herd. 

“Tiller cast.” Don called to the dog, who immediately sprinited off to round up the herd. He ran around the stray cows from the group nipping at their heels to get them to move in the direction he wanted. 

“Scout hold!” Don told Scout, she stood her ground at the front of the herd stopping them from moving as Tiller rounded them into a neat group. Scout darted from side to side at the front, staring down the cows that tried to move without her permission. 

“Come bye, Tiller!” Don instructed the dog to go clockwise around the stock, to ensure all of the cows were in the group. 

With Tiller at the back and Scout at the front, they could usher the herd down the hill. The cows knew to follow, so the dogs didn’t have to work too hard. But they were there in case one of the cows tried to stray from the group. 

“Scout stand. Tiller speak up!” Don commanded the dogs. Scout eased up on her position, letting the stock move forward, as Tiller barked at the herd to get them moving. They were all experienced with this drill, even the cows knew it well. It wasn’t long before they were off down the mountains again. 

The dogs ensured the herd stayed together and Don followed up the rear. It was getting later in the evening, the sun was setting quickly. It wouldn’t be safe to move in the dark, as it was easy to get lost in the thick woods. Also the low visibility increased the risk of injury from all parties, and Don wasn’t going to risk the health of his animals to get back to the ranch in one day. 

There was an overflow field only about 10 minutes away from here, Don could get them all there in time in the fenced field so they could all rest safely for the night. 

Scout in the front of the herd started barking, Don looked to see what was going on. It wasn’t normal for her to bark since she was a silent herding dog. Don clicked his tongue getting Lady to move a bit faster as he made his way to the front of the group. Scout growled into the thick woods with her hackles raised. There was something out there. Don was quick pulling the gun from his back and flicking off the safety. He raised it, eyes scanning the dense trees, looking for a sign of movement. Scout still stood growling and snapping at the trees, she was disturbed by whatever was out there. It wasn’t often Don encountered the predators that lurked in the forest, but he knew what he had to do to keep himself and the rest of the group safe. 

Don’s ear perked as a twig snapped close by, a lot closer than he assumed the creature was. He cocked the gun, readying himself to fire.

“Please! Don’t shoot!”       

[3milesup]

My BoB ships ranking

(as encouraged by @sleepy-hyperfixations - thanks!)

i have thought about this from all sides to find a criteria and then i decided it probably comes down to which ships make me feel a particular way about them or spark thoughts, curiosity, creativity, and i found a compromise between the two things^^

so, here's what i come up with:

1. winnix - aka the pinnacle of ships, the Relationship Goals™ that i can't even bring myself to read much for because it stirs some deep deep nostalgia for what i've never had... but they've been for me the stamp of true love ever since i saw the show...

1. webgott - a ship that to me is almost too emotional to think about because either way you turn it around, it is always so painful (but so meant to be as well). but also: sizzling, fiery dynamics, so much depth to dive into, ahh they're everything...

3. now, here i am, shamelessly putting on the pedestal what i believe is a figment of my imagination, as i have never seen it anywhere (if anyone has, pretty please let me know^^) but it owns a chunk of my heart, and it is smokey gordon/alton more (what would that make them? smore? idek anymore... what even is my life…) i could write an essay but i'll keep it lowkey and say (affectionately): how have you people not seen it? they sooo had a thing, and a tad complicated, repressed, emotionally constipated but passionate one for that matter…

on shared 3th, because *shielding my eyes from the first two places* i will however die on rarepair hill, is speirsroe - it makes so much sense if you stop to look for a while and i love to do so. many feelings abt those two.

4. luztoye  - i wanted to put them higher, actually, bcs i am biased, bcs they are my flagship (that currently is like, adrift and half sunken but i'll pull it back afloat just like i will do myself) but alas, they're here. yes, i acknowledge that it is a ship standing on pillars of quite dry sand of two (2) interactions in the whole show lol, but the possibilities it offers to explore the personalities are vast and interesting...

5. speirton, bull/martin - are here in the ranking because i totally get the appeal and the dynamic and they are sort of "comfort ships" to me? like, an... angst-proofish certainty but just... never say never, but for the moment not quite on top of my list^^

6. quite the same for baberoe, placed here because it's an integral part of the fandom and i have all the respect but i'm sorry, i just can't see it, no matter how hard i squint...

ALSO, there is speirs/nix out there somewhere, but i can't for the life of me rank it, it just exists in my subconscious, intriguing and sadly underdeveloped, and i just wanted the world to know, because i think they are a gem full of potential^^

...'aight, i can't seem to think of other ships, so... i guess this is it^^ if you have any thoughts or your own rankings i'd love to know <3

[deputy-buck]

@sleepy-maya you know what this isn't too bad for my usual BoB writing (even though I've never posted any bc it always felt so lacking lol) and I hope you like it!! Thanks for the patience and prompt!

-

"Docile Alpha"

All the downtime in Austria has lulled Speirs' body into a sense of safety, the routine of paperwork and strongly advising soldiers “not to drink too much” allowed his body to push for its neglected needs… in arguably the worst way. His rut is a surprise, waking up at the usual 05:15, only this morning drenched in sweat and a hard-on that was beginning to hurt. Speirs let out an exhausted sigh, knowing the following four days would be hell in a handbasket if he didn’t get something to treat it soon.

Getting dressed felt like crash landing from a short jump: not enough height to deploy his shoot properly, and too much hard ground coming up too fast, it’s nearly identical. Speirs tries to muscle through it without making too much noise, legs aching, boner not willing to leave (he knows jacking off is near-futile), and fuck why does his jaw hurt so bad. Where the fuck is a medic when you can’t yell for one? Ron thinks about forgoing his jacket and leaving his hair a wreck, but his appearance means more to his men than his own comfort so he buttons his jacket and wets his hair down, runs some pomade through it and combs it all back, letting gravity do the rest. 

Now to find Doc.

-

“Supply sent all the suppressants an Omega could ask for but none for Alpha’s, sorry, Captain.” Roe sounds slightly sympathetic for Speirs and very frustrated with whoever sent so many OSPs (Omega Suppressant Pack) and not a single ASP (Alpha Suppressant Pack) to a Company made up of 97% Alphas. Still rooting through crates and boxes in hopes of finding at least one sleeve of pills for his commanding officer, Roe suddenly feels hot breath on the back of his neck. Eugene’s hackles rise for a brief moment before he thinks of how Ron must feel at the moment, hormones running rampant through his body. 

“You smell good,” Speirs says accusatively, struggling to keep his hands to himself even though every thought in his head is screaming at him to never get close to an enlisted man. Instead, he places his hands on the wood crate in front of Doc, leaving them relaxed on the rough-milled boards so as not to make the younger man feel caged in. You can always say no. Speirs hopes Eugene understands

“What?” Roe deadpans with tensed hands full of useless OSPs and neatly spooled IV tubing. He feels a wash of possessiveness roll down his body, already knowing what Speirs is about to say.

“You smell good,” Ron repeats, taking an audible deep breath of Eugene’s scent. “Nobody smells good to me in rut.” His exhale trembles as he lets Eugene’s scent go.

Through all Speirs' ruts, he never had the scent-induced lust craze, never had the overwhelming need to KnotFuckBreed the way his peers always described. Ron wanted to be alone. He took suppressants and exercised extensively to relieve the pent-up energy, running for miles into densely wooded areas to find some privacy in order to relieve himself in a different way. That’s really all Alpha suppressants do: allow Alphas to get themselves off without having to be tied to someone. 

This is different. Ron can’t pinpoint any particular notes, Eugene just smells like sweat and skin, maybe a little antiseptic but it’s purely Eugene that he smells. The young medic’s scent is thick and heady to him nonetheless, clouding his senses and making Ron’s head swim with thoughts no officer should ever have about a subordinate.

“Think you should get back to your room, Sir. Ain’t the best idea to be around other Alphas while you're in rut.” Roe says firmly, not allowing any traces of want slip into his voice, he doesn’t need to launch Speirs into a spiral out here for everyone to see. “I’ll come check on you later, maybe have something to help you too.”

-

Fuck, this shouldn’t feel so good. Shouldn’t be so close already. Where did Doc learn to do this?

Speirs lays supine on the plush mattress, stripped down to only his undershirt -which is rucked up to his armpits- chest heaving with every labored breath, back arching up off the sweat soaked sheets. 

Eugene keeps his right hand tightly gripped around Speirs’ aching, half-popped knot, slowly twisting side to side and rubbing the pad of his thumb up the shaft as far as he can reach. Pulling sickly sweet whimpers and moans from the man feared by every Easy Company trooper sends a surge of power through the Omega’s core, rendering the most dangerous man breathless would intoxicate anyone. Tempted to lean down to lick the beads of precum oozing from Speirs’ cock, Roe tempers it by gently cupping his left hand over the tip, drawing a nearly pained whine from the older man’s throat as Roe slides his palm across and around the over-sensitive head.

“Fucking Christ, Doc,” Speirs mewled through gritted teeth. With pleasure clouding his mind, Ron lifts his hand out of the twisted sheets, reaching to touch the medic in some way, eager to know what Doc’s skin feels like aside from the single firm handshake they’ve shared. He stops himself short, thinking of how this is already bad enough and would only worsen if he were to make contact. Speirs should have never stepped into Doc’s personal space back in the med bay, should have never lingered long enough to take another deep breath of his addictive scent, and definitely never should have allowed the Omega into this room. But he did, and now the least he can do to preserve his innocence is to keep this clinical.

All those thoughts of professionalism fly out the window when Doc speaks.

“Don’t think I ever seen an Alpha act like such an Omega before.” Roe grins, eyes sweeping down the Alpha’s trembling body, a low purr building in his chest at the sight. “Surprised you’re not leakin' slick.”

With that, the floodgates open from Speirs’ brain to mouth. 

“Let me cum, ‘Gene, please let me cum. Swear I’ll be good if you let me cum. Do anything you want, I’ll let you fuck me if you want, ‘Gene just please let me cum.” It would sound so pathetic coming from any other Alpha’s mouth, but Speirs sounds genuine, like this is who he really is deep down. He sounds so desperate it’s cute.

“You know it ain’t smart to fuck an alpha when he’s in rut, ya might rip my throat out, cher.” Doc chuckles and twists his hand around Speir’s knot a little fast, tightening his pinky beneath the swell of it emulating a hole clenching down. Roe decides he’s tortured the poor man enough, pulling his left hand away from polishing the head of Speirs’ cock to slide down and back up the shaft. “Let go, knot my hand ‘n make a mess. You’ll clean it up like a good boy for me, won’t you?”

“Yes, ‘Gene.” Ron gasps as his orgasm washes through his body, cock pulsing in Eugene’s firm hold, pearly white strings coating his own heaving belly and chest. Speirs’ legs hitch up to get away from the gentle strokes of Doc’s other hand but Roe persists, milking every last drop of cum from his docile Alpha. The final dribbles of cum leak over Doc’s pale knuckles, making his hand even more slight around Speirs’ now fully inflated knot. Swiping some of the slick fluid up with his left thumb, Eugene finally allows himself a taste of Speirs, outright laughing at the breathless whimper the Alpha lets out at the sight.

“You’re real pretty when you cum, you know that?” Eugene murmurs softly, eyes soft and full of a newfound love for his Captain. Eugene lets his hand go slack on Ron’s softening cock but keeps it there for his own possessive reasons.

It takes a few moments for Speirs to respond, head fuzzy with a new surge of arousal and safety, his voice slightly slurred as he says, “Thank you, ‘Gene.”

-

(WC: 1,348)

I don't know how it got so long... :)

[lieutenant-speirs]

Just Hold Him (Lipton x Speirs)

Title: Just Hold Him (Part 1 of 2) - (Part 2 here) Ship: Lipton x Speirs Summary: When snow reminds Lipton of what he's lost, what he's witnessed... Grief pierced him through the heart with an icicle shard. Themes: Grief, Hurt-Comfort Author Note: Since when has there been a character limit on tumblr? I gotta post this in two parts now. What the sobel crap is this!?

Since being back from the war, Lipton kept himself busy. Helping his Mom out with the Boarding House, getting his own apartment closer to the college that he had been accepted into to finish his education, school work… and when he had free time, he always found something to do. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. If he stopped…he started thinking…and he just couldn’t sit around and mope. Had to keep himself busy and distracted. Perhaps the Sergeant – or Lieutenant, rather – in him, also made him feel like he should be doing something useful. People tend to bring the war home…and Lipton certainly did that. Perhaps not in the means of trauma and PTSD… but things that were drilled into him either during Bootcamp, Training, being a soldier in general... Things such as how he makes the bed…and it gets done every morning. No excuses. How he folds his socks. Even waking up 10 minutes before 6am. Granted he didn’t have to haul his ass out of bed, but he still wakes up like his body clock is still in Toccoa. These wintry months were slightly different… Ron was on leave for a few weeks, therefore he was home. Which meant those early mornings weren’t spent alone, in bed. It was almost humorous the first morning… Lipton was excited to wake up and be the first to look over at Ron, sleeping. Only for his hazel eyes to meet another set of hazel eyes. “Oh. Hi.” Speirs couldn’t help the little sleepy laugh that crept out at Lipton’s disappointed response. Lipton’s eyes quickly danced over Ron’s softly laughing features, drinking in that beautiful sight. If it’s one thing he loves about Ron…it’s when he smiles. “You sound disappointed to see me, Carwood.” “No..Not at all.” Lipton turned the rest of his body around so he was fully facing Ron. He pressed his semi-hardened erection against Ron, causing the brunette’s brows to shoot up, smile turning into a small smirk, hazel eyes softening into a mixed gaze of lustful mischievousness and just general love for Lipton. “Definitely not at all.” Lipton muttered as his neck craned up to press a kiss on the corner of Ron’s lips, only for Ron to catch his lips and pull him into a deeper kiss…. This is what Lipton should be thinking about when he stopped moving, stopped finding ways to distract himself… But no… He had just finished putting a few products away that he was using to fix some squeaking hinges, when he walked out into the open living area and just stared out the window. The bright light of…white… caught his attention. And he found himself staring at the snow-fall. It’s been, what? Almost two years? But the snow has a tendency to pull him right back. The snow will never match the coldness of what they felt in Bastogne, but the same white residue can bring back a flood of memories. The sound of shells going off, shells dropping and exploding the trees, grounds, foxholes… The sound of Luz’s voice in his ear screaming to be heard that Muck and Penkala got hit. Ron had just turned the corner to make a start on dinner when he stopped and watched the man he loves just stare off. Something Lipton doesn’t do. Immediately, the odd behavior was something Ron picked up on. He followed Lipton’s gaze and could only see nothing but snow and – snow. Ron was smart. Observant. Particularly with Lipton. “Carwood?” He gently called out, not making any movement to avoid startling the man. But he got no response. Dark hazel eyes looked around quickly for an answer on how to deal with this situation… this was more Lipton’s department than it was Rons… but Lipton was the one needing the softer approach… “Carwood…?” Speirs started again…this time carefully stepping closer. A mistake, perhaps, in keeping his footfalls on the quieter side as he cautiously walked up to the man who was staring off. The haunted look of war physically evident over his features.

[brassknucklespeirs]

Sʟᴇᴇᴘ Hᴀᴘᴘʏ [Rᴏɴᴀʟᴅ Sᴘᴇɪʀs x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Genre: Flufffffff

Warning: Depiction of sleeping issues derived from PTSD, mention of clearly crappy mental health, mentions of warfare

Prompt: Request by @softguarnere​ “ If your requests are still open, I was wondering if I could request some sleepy speirs content? 💕 Thank you!!”

There had been three strikes before she was out. Three seperate instances that led to her demise. The first one, in her defence, was a complete and utter accident, an unforeseeable motion she couldn’t control. The second one, well, that one was not so much. And don’t even get me started on how purposeful the third one was. And the two things every strike had in common, one of which needs a ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ sign to be hung from it so she’d restrain herself?

Ronald-freaking-Speirs and sleeping.

The scene leading up to the first time was reasonably simple. She had been given all she could have dreamed for that night; a roof over her head and four solid walls keeping the frigid wind from tickling her flushed cheeks, a warm fire chasing the cold air away and a little bit of peace and quiet. Before then she’d even had a delicate chorus of a nuns’ choir lulling her muscles to rest a little. It was unfortunate, however, that the relaxation of the woman’s body did little to help the calming of her fast-paced mind from the storm that blew within. The constant need to glance over her shoulders or to jolt awake whenever she nodded off for a second was driving Y/N’s exhaustion to an all time high. She’d be lucky if she’d been getting a couple of hours sleep a day at that rate during and after the battle with the unforgiving terrain of the forests of Bastogne. So with the taking of Foy, the company had found themselves in a church in Rachamp, complete with hot food and a warm place to sleep for the night. With this in mind, Y/N had assumed she’d be given the chance to just that, sleep for the night. At first, this didn’t seem to be the case.

Most of the men had settled down for the night along the floor of the church with the bedding given to them by the nuns as well as their own slipped tightly around their bodies. The only ones that hadn’t had been the one’s who were tucked away at the CP, keeping an eye out for their pals while they slept somewhat soundly. Not Y/N either. Even given the chance to sleep for at least a planned six hours, Y/n’s mind had been running double time to stop that from happening. It was the slight pull in her chest mixed with the occasional prickling of her skin that she felt as she sat leaning against the back of the church pew she’d claimed as her own. The constant need to check her surroundings left her with tired eyes roving slowly around the room every 10 or so minutes as she chased the feeling of safety like a distant dream that was fading quickly into reality. 

Previously frozen fingers gripped lightly at the fraying edges of the blanket that had been place gently over her shoulders by one of the nuns, her body soaking up the extra comfort of warmth, even if it didn’t completely stop the anxiety from resting in her veins. The snores and deep breathing of the men she called brothers also set a flame of comfort in her heart to warm her cold bones but even then, it wasn’t quite enough to let her settle. 

Dim candlelight flicked within the church, setting a cast of light across her face as she turned her head slowly to the opening door. A chill licked up her spine as the wind managed a quick sprint to her before it had been promptly shut back out again. She became aware of a presence that had placed itself down beside her a little slower than she would have liked but she prided herself in identifying the man as soon as she’d clicked to his sudden appearance.

“I’m surprised you’re still awake Lieutenant L/N. But while I have you here, I’d like to go over a few thoughts with you.” He said in such a firm, authoritative voice that the tired woman could only react with a nod of confirmation as he pulled out several maps to talk over. She tried to pay attention as he pointed out specific plans and how they’d work well but her focus on the maps was slipping by the minute, which embarrassingly had not been the first time it had happened while receiving a talk from Ronald Speirs. Her eyes had trailed over the hand that stayed pointed at the map before following the sleeve of his shirt, over the curve of his shoulder to look at his face. While he talked, she’d watched the muscles contract under his jaw and traced the dark shadow of exhaustion that also lay under his eyes. With the low whisper of his voice, Y/N’s brain started to fog, her vision following not far behind. She could feel as her mind gave in to her body level of relaxation, though this time she did not jolt with the prickling of her skin or clench of her chest. The woman gave in to the safety blanket of comfort that the man beside her had brought with his presence slowly but surely as she was lulled to sleep by his trailing voice. 

It took Captain Speirs a minute or two to realise the state of exhaustion his companion had let herself slip into, until he felt a sensation of pressure on his shoulder that caused him to look down at her. Y/N had managed to fall asleep under the comfort of the man that was her commanding officer as she curled into his side, with her head tucked gently onto his shoulder. And for reasons no one would know of or witness but him, he let her, even letting a small smile of amusement slip onto his lips as he moved himself to offer her a more comfortable position to sleep in. It wasn’t long before he too felt himself succumbing to sleep, his eyelids drooping down over his dark eyes several times until they closed completely while his head had unintentionally come to rest lightly upon hers. The two officers had welcomed the calming touch of another beside them as they slept, even if it had only been for four or so hours before they both awoke to prepare before their men rose.

As I said before; reasonably simple.

The second time had been only a distant dream in her mind, just a silly little idea that had fluttered its way into her wandering thoughts a little to many time since the incident in the church.

It was late when the two had stumbled up the stairs, the sun resting while the moon illuminated the snow covered streets, much like it had the night before. Y/N huffed a mock sigh of frustration as the grown man beside her had leant some of his unsteady weight on her, grabbing one of his arms to throw over her shoulder. Ron chuckled tiredly while applying a little more weight jokingly, causing her to stumble which had been followed quickly by a threatening glare. 

“You’re being a pain in the ass, Sir. I’m just trying to help drag your sorry-ass to bed before you work yourself to death.”

“I didn’t ask for your help Lieutenant, you did that all by yourself. And how many times do I gotta tell you, it’s Ron to you.” The woman rolled her eyes as he spoke in his usual firm voice though she could see the glint of humour in his tired eyes. She admired the way they shone even in his state of exhaustion, a trait she hoped she could mirror though she wasn’t so sure that was indeed how she looked at all. She’d also envied the way his hair had fallen so perfectly over his forehead and she could imagine the amount of times he’d sat running his fingers through his hair in frustration after last night’s prisoner snatch patrol across the river. She had imagined that the appearance of a mirror would be cruel to her as she stood beside him with her helmet messy hair falling from its braids, and clouded eyes. What she imagined and what the tired man beside her thought were two very different things, however. He had not been able to stop glancing at her, his worn out state causing his focus to go at even the slightly distraction. But to him, she’d always been a distraction even when not tired; a big distraction. Through hazy, slightly squinted eyes, he took in the way she seemed to glow in the natural moonlight that shone through the windows, the way her hair, though messy, had framed her face just right to express the hard working and strong woman he’d felt himself pulled towards.

“If that’s so then it’s only right to say it’s Y/N to you.” She’d replied as they made their way into his room, her hands moving to give him a gentle shove to the bed. “Now you better go to sleep or so help me I’ll be talking to Winters about it and we both know you don’t want to upset our mother hen.” She’d teased before swiftly turning to leave the room. Ron watched her with those squinted eyes before calling out to her and raising his boot sloppily off the side of the bed.

“I’m asking for help now Y/N.” He’d mocked before giving his foot a shake, his head flopping back onto the bed tiredly. The woman huffed at the dark haired man before she stomped back over and begun to undo the man’s laces. She’d taken a minute to slip both boots off his feet, throwing the blanket over them as she finished. She pretended to tuck him in with amusement painted across her features.

“You’d better be happy with the service. I recon it’s 5 sta-“ Y/N stopped suddenly when she’d glanced up at the man’s resting face and noticed the gentle rise and fall of his chest. The great Ronald Speirs had fallen asleep with one of his platoon leaders pulling the boots off his feet. What would the men think about this? The thought wasn’t processed more than just the throw away comment made under her breath as she moved to sit herself on the bed so she could remove the tightened belt of webbing that held his canteens to his waist off. After placing it quietly on the ground as to not startle the man awake, she had glanced back at him again. She admired him as she had while helping him up the stairs, however, this time she was seeing an even softer version of him. The admirable man she’d led up the stairs seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, the strain being seen across his brow as it creased. The sleeping man before her was different, his shoulders relaxed and his face youthful as his eyelashes fluttered slightly with every breath he took.

She had felt it coming this time, much more than she had last time. One could say she had warning, and one could definitely say she completely ignored that. Her choice being that she would not make the trek to her own bedroom just downstairs and instead found herself slipping into sleep splayed out beside one Ronald Speirs. That one choice led to the best nights sleep that either of them had had in a long time, a idea which they had sheepishly shared to each other the next morning as she had woken up with his arm draped over her waist. Guess it was a day dream brought to life after all.

Now, the third time you ask? Oh god, the third time. 

The war was almost at its end, they could both feel it even if they were still told to standby for the Pacific. But the war had been long and Y/N was tired.

The dynamic between Y/N and Ron had shifted slightly since that night in Hagenau, if the softened eyes and closer proximity had been enough to speak for themselves. It was clear to them that they’d both been trying to make it happen again, with the constant question of ‘when will you be finished’ was passed between them almost every day. It was unfortunate that the circumstances had kept them from each other as one was often asleep while the other worked, or how she was often needed within her platoon’s housing to stay to coordinate her boys.

Tonight, however, had worked in their favour. Ron had left only an hour or so prior to the woman as she finished up with a debrief had between her and her sergeant, Johnny Martin. When asked by said man whether she was coming to bed soon, she had shaken her head ‘no’ and made up some silly excuse to having more work to do for the night. Martin shook his head at the woman yet a small smile on his lips told her it was an action of affection and not distaste.

“Well you make sure you look after yourself ma’am. Don’t work too hard, you need your sleep too.” The man gave Y/N a gentle pat on her shoulder as he passed her to head out the door. She continued to stand there for a few seconds more after she’d heard it close gently before she let a dragged breath leave her mouth.

“I do need my sleep.” She muttered to herself, her feet immediately moving to take her towards the housing she knew Ron was staying in. It didn’t take her long to reach his door, her feet dragging behind her with every step she took. She didn’t even bother knocking as she opened the door and stepping into the room before firmly closing it once more. The presence of the moon was once again seen as it shone directly onto the resting figure from the window across from the bed. His skin almost glowed from the white light that illuminated his skin and Y/N could feel her stomach clench at the sight of him. He lay on his stomach, with both arms tucked under the pillow his head rested on and his face turned towards her. His hair fell the same way it did the second time, so messy yet so beautiful.

His fingers twitched suddenly, the arm closest to her coming to stretch across the blanket. She glanced at his face once more only to realise she’d been caught admiring the man as she saw his eyes barely squinted open enough to see. With not a single uttering of a word, his outstretched fingers grasped at blanket before lifting it in her direction. She had understood the simple action, taking several steps forward while removing her dress uniform to expose her PT kit beneath, then jumping several step to pull her boots of quickly. By the time she had gotten herself ready for bed she was directly in front of him and had all but launched herself into Ron’s outstretched arms. He was as warm and comforting as she remembered and the woman couldn’t stop the sign of contentment that left her lips as she snuggled her face into the crook of his neck. He smiled down at her before pressing his nose into her hair and gently inhaling the calming scent of the woman he’d grown so fond of.

“Thank god you’re here.” He’d whispered groggily into her hair. “I couldn’t fucking sleep.” The comment made her smile.

“Well Ron, now you can sleep happy.” She’d replied, her warm breath travelling over the exposed skin of his neck and jaw. They had curled into each other so naturally, neither feeling more at ease in recent years than they had right then and there. He’d smiled with closed eyes and let a quiet chuckle out, his fingers rubbing gentle circles into the skin covering her hipbones in an absentminded action of adoration.

“Yeah, I can sleep happy indeed.”

So as I said, there had been three strikes before she was out. Three seperate instances that led to her demise. The first one, in her defence, was a complete and utter accident, an unforeseeable motion she couldn’t control. The second one, well, that one was not so much. And don’t even get me started on how purposeful that third one was. Her demise, of course, was love, but for the opportunity to sleep soundly in Ronald Speirs’ arms just one more time, she’d let love wreck her.

[equalseleventhirds]

said i was gonna make the post, i'm gonna make the post. sure i have only like 3 followers who listen to skyjacks, that is not relevant, this post is for ME bcos i love to overanalyze worldbullding implications on a wider cultural level particularly in regards to religion,

also important to note that while i am caught up on skyjacks main and have started courier's call, i have not listened to everything on patreon, or read the zine(s?), or backread all the official twitter posts or w/e, so if i am mistaken and this HAS been relevant in the worldbuilding then oh yes PLEASE link me i would dearly love to see!!! i am very much good faith abt this bcos skyjacks aims to be anti-colonialist and does deliver in so so many ways.

anyway. so. skyjacks, speir, the sovereign (+the luminaries a bit), and the unintentional implications when your fantasy catholicism stand-in is like, provably correct about some aspects of their god??? (subtitled: and why it's not as bad as it could be, really, and the world does leave plenty of room for this to be easily fixed and here's how)

thanks for joining me nice to have u here etc etc i write long essays deep-diving into media for funsies are u ready for a ride

so firstly, the catholic church in the real world is.... historically tied to a lot of colonialism. so much. SO much. like, i'm filipino, ok? so much. often in the supposed name of, y'know, god and missionary work or w/e.

and to his credit, james d'amato put a lot of thought into making the church of the slain god, his fantasy analogy for the catholic church, a Bad Institution and tied into colonialism (and other stuff) and a bad bad thing which the players go up against. also some cool stuff done in nordia wrt the church as an institution vs individuals in the church living their lives, etc, altho that is less of the point here.

additionally, prior to the beginning of the campaign itself, in one of the tales from speir, it is set up as just one of many churches, one which happened to gain notoriety and power. the concept of a single god is mentioned pointedly, as though other churches had more gods. it's even explained to the listener, as though it is not ubiquitous among speir's citizens, as though one might hear a priest preaching about the slain god but not really know about it at all. furthermore, the narrator notes that even if he was religious, he wouldn't worship that god; the slain god is presented as an option, a belief, but not a fact.

of course, over the course of the campaign, things develop as they do. currently in canon, we know that the sovereign was real; that he really was pretty close to all-powerful; that he did die; that his death did cause the calamity that befell speir and made it what it is now; that his angels (those that did not fall) do direct the current church, in some way or another.

this is actually provable bcos of the way canon and our knowledge of things has developed. (vitally to my respect towards & enjoyment of skyjacks, the details show that the worship of the slain god, as practiced by the church as a whole, is incorrect in its methodology and morality; and, furthermore, although the sovereign existed, we are led to believe that he was not necessarily a just god. not necessarily a good god. and that there are options besides following a god just because he exists. killing him, for instance.)

further, we know that even amongst people who are not part of the church, knowledge of the sovereign and of the whole 'the sovereign's death caused the apocalypse' thing is common. common enough that when people (hildred, the crew of the uhuru) who are demonstrably not part of the church learn that gable killed god, there is. a bit of a Reaction there. it is widely known.

now, the only other gods really mentioned or worshiped so far (in all the places we have been!) are the luminaries (ok yes fine i believe they are defined as 'not quite gods', but, semantics; they function as a pantheon of deities, albeit not in the style of the sovereign), so let's talk about the luminaries.

it is, perhaps, plausible that the luminaries might be the other gods of (one or more of) the other churches which the narrator of tales from speir obliquely refers to. but let's take a moment and examine how they function and interact with both the common people of speir and the church of the slain god.

first the common people: altho the luminaries may demand sacrifices, altho there are shrines around to them, there doesn't seem to be any sort of organized worship of them? folk-magic invoking them, certainly; widespread belief in them, certainly. other churches dedicated to the luminaries and excluding the sovereign? ehhhhhhh.

as for the church: no one in the church seems to regard the luminaries as competition, as heresy, or as belonging to another organization at all. people who believe in the sovereign seem totes cool with invoking the luminaries as well. perhaps to them they function as lesser spirits who serve(d) the sovereign in some way; it's not really addressed at all.

additionally, the sovereign himself is mentioned as interacting with the luminaries (altho, uh, obvs not currently). notably, the moon belongs to the forest queen (who refers to humans as 'children of the sovereign' i think?) but the stars belong to the sovereign. there is sharing there! bargaining even perhaps?? definite mutual acknowledgement; regardless of levels of power, it would appear that the sovereign and the luminaries (at least the forest queen) are part of the same large pantheon.

the luminaries are also, once again, gods (or 'gods') that are provable. they and their power definitely exist. they are also ubiquitious; universally, at least among the various locations and cultures we have experienced so far, the luminaries are both known and invoked (if not worshiped in quite the same way as the sovereign).

if, as i posited, the luminaries and the sovereign are part of the same pantheon, this means that there is one universal (apparently) pantheon in speir. (occasionally we'll have bits of folk magic where ppl are sorta kinda almost worshiping an element, like fire or wind or trees; this is cool, but not made clear as a religion separate from the sovereign/luminaries at all. also still no other gods. tales from speir narrator tell us abt the other churches with other gods PLEASE.)

taking a step away from skyjacks in particular, it's important to note that this is a common enough occurrence in a lot of high fantasy. you make some gods; those gods have actual impact on the world and the story; of course they are the only gods around. if there were other gods around, they'd just be. y'know. part of the same pantheon.

this is fine for simpler fantasy worlds, where a universal, provable religion is not even the biggest issue of cultural same-y-ness in the worldbuilding. not ideal, but also not a big deal, comparatively.

however! speir is intentionally built to be a wide variety of cultures, with inspiration drawn from many real-world cultures (and many of those locations worldbuilt by incredibly cool freelancers often pulling on their own lived experiences). and part of cultural variety is religious variety.

yes, the sovereign and the luminaries provably exist in speir. but if worship/knowledge of them is universal across speir; if they are the only gods ever encountered in all these various cultures; if they are the only gods that do exist and hold power; then like. oof. bcos you've got, on the one hand, fantasy catholicism; and on the other hand, folk-magic-gods which, let's face it, are based around songs made by the decemberists, who altho they do cool music are also... p much white americans drawing mostly (altho not entirely, shoutout to the crane wife) from western history/stories (and lbr does tell even the crane wife through a white western lens, but also i am not here to analyze the decemberists)

and the implications of that being our canonical true real only universal pantheon sure are implications!! like god yeah i love that gable killed god, i love the luminaries (hit me with capricious deities!!), but also i am metaphorically throwing rocks at james d'amato's window to point out stuff abt history and religious variety and cultural stuff. u kno.

but algie, i hear some of you saying (especially those of you who have followed me for a bit and Seen Some Stuff), why would you do this to yourself? why would you willingly deep-dive into this particular flavor of analysis when it has burned you so badly before with other media that you love? have you not learned from tma and fear soup and robert fucking smirke? why would you once more do the thing where you point out that a white man has accidentally incurred some weird colonial implications in an unthinking moment of fairly standard worldbuilding??

well, imaginary audience member standing in for the bit of me braced for horrible disappointment, listen. yes it's similar, but the situation is different. firstly bcos skyjacks, unlike certain other media, bills itself as anti-colonialist, and so this is important to the actual goals of the show. and secondly, bcos given other elements of the worldbuilding and the overarching narrative, it is both difficult and unlikely for the show to ever say no, actually, the sovereign and the luminaries are the sole and only deities (or deity-adjacent-beings) in the entire world of speir.

the world they've built for skyjacks is vast! and lost!! so vast and lost that it is entirely plausible that there are other religions and deities in other cultures, just as powerful and real and true, that the party just hasn't run into. maybe they are hidden from the rediscovered world; maybe they are part of the rediscovered world and just haven't made it into the characters' paths. it is so so easy to imagine that entire other pantheons exist, and are worshiped, and are real functioning gods... elsewhere in speir. and the story does not at all seem to be heading in the direction to blatantly and completely contradict this.

so that's why it's not as bad as it could have been. shall we discuss how it can be even better?

first, the thing i would not like to see: i am so utterly and entirely disinterested in some kinda 'oh other cultures worship the same pantheon but with different names/faces/whatever'. that's not religious variety of the type the real world has (and the type that colonialism tried to stamp out). none of this with fantasy catholicism still having the True God but y'know, other ppl might have a different name for him. that rubs me wrong in so so many ways. that is not cultural religious diversity at all.

(note: it's been mentioned that the luminaries, at least, may have different... relationships? vibes?? with different cultures. that's neat! i do like to see capricious gods showing different sides of themselves to different people!! as long as that's not all we get. i am cool & chill with the bandari people having a bargain with the forest queen or w/e it was that was brought up in that one worldbuilding ep abt the luminaries; i am even chill with the grand fire giving ppl stones that appear to correspond to the luminaries. clearly the bandari were part of the broad group of cultures falling under this pantheon. that's fine, as long as we aren't told that EVERY culture, without exception, aligns with this pantheon and no other.)

now for a thing i WOULD like to see: would love the players to actually encounter a culture where worship of (and perhaps even common knowledge of) the luminaries and the sovereign is in the minority. a culture with their own gods, gods that are worshiped in different ways to the sovereign and luminaries, but which demonstrably have power. (magic is in the story, this is canon; enough stories about other gods mean the other gods do exist. or vice versa.) maybe they have their own explanation of why the stars fell. maybe they don't have an explanation, but their gods have been doing their best in the meantime. (maybe they wave their hands dismissively; 'oh yes, our gods know about your sovereign. they foolishly did not intervene before things got bad, but they're making up for it now.' there are lots of ways people interact with their gods.)

if we are digging deep into colonialism and implications and drawing on history wrt the catholic church and colonialism: i would kind of like to see a place where religion developed under colonial rule in, say, the style of the philippines (yes yes yes i'm biased shhh). a place where the red feathers and the church came and took over (not by war, since that's not a thing in speir as it is now, but y'know... they've got ways), and the people there with their own gods already said, well, okay. sure, we follow and believe your religion; we just also have our own spirits and even minor gods and so on that don't quite follow your rules, because they are ours. and those spirits and minor gods have adjusted and changed to accommodate the ways the colonizers are making us live, because we must adapt; but still they are here and they are ours.

(in the latter, ofc, they would need a rly rly good freelance worldbuilder and probably another cultural consultant. these ties to real history and cultures and pain need to be treated with respect; eg i would hate for this to be a place that the main cast come in and free from the church, bcos outside saviors are not the needed thing. but y'know, it'd be an interesting culture to see represented and explored.)

ofc the big meta problem with introducing other pantheons with real power is: does this break the fucking game?? if there are other gods on par with the luminaries, can the players call on them for help? and the easiest answer (and lbr the culturally sensitive one) is: no, these are not their gods. they may witness their power. but they cannot use it. play continues the same for them.

but they know stuff now. it maybe won't drastically change their lives and how they live them. but no longer are the people who worship this pantheon the only right ones.

[panevanbuckley]

[himbowelsh]

The Great Speirs's struggle not to fall asleep and The Great Lipton struggle not to hug him.

ya know i had to do it to em

The longer this goes on, the more Lipton wonders how long he can bear it.

They’ve been doing paperwork for hours now, which is enough to weigh anybody down… but Lipton didn’t volunteer to help for his own enjoyment. There are a dozen things he could be doing with his Saturday night that don’t involve sitting with Captain Speirs around a table cluttered with company reviews. This isn’t part of his duties as First Lieutenant. He’s earned a night off, same as everybody else, and Speirs even said he ought to take it.

If helping out some of the burden off their CO’s shoulders, though... there’s nowhere else Lipton would rather be.

Honestly, he isn’t fed up with the tedium. The paperwork isn’t the problem.

It’s… well, it’s Speirs.

Somewhere past midnight, the problem starts to become apparent. The man’s been up since dawn — Lipton knows, because he found Speirs at his desk, apparently there for hours already, when he woke up at a rational hour. On the rare occasions Lt. Dike could be found in Bastogne, they’d sometimes find him dozing in some random foxhole… but Speirs doesn’t nap. He never takes time of his own to rest. Chasing after a company like Easy can drain a man’s energy — Lipton knows from experience — but up until tonight, he’d never even seen their captain yawn.

Speirs leans his head against his palm, elbow crumpling a letter from the colonel, and hides a massive yawn behind his free hand.

Lipton doesn’t comment.

It wouldn’t be right. Speirs wouldn’t appreciate it. He wouldn’t appreciate it, in Speirs’s shoes… though, to be fair, if Lipton were working himself to the bone, he’d trust every last Toccoa man to say something. With an imposing figure like Captain Speirs… well, no one would dare. Not even Luz, who’s never kept a thought to himself in his life.

Who looks after Captain Speirs, then, if he’s too busy to look after himself?

The thought plagues Lipton through the next round of paperwork. He keeps one eye on Speirs, just observing. The way the man’s head lolls against his open palm speaks for itself… but exhaustion pulls at his eyes, too, dragging them shut no matter how determined he is to force them open. Speirs blinks rapidly down at the stack of papers in front of him, not really appearing to see any of it. After a long moment, he sighs through his nose, turning his face into his open hand. Lipton watches in silence as Speirs massages his brow, determined to chase sleep away by bullheadedness alone.

Typical paratrooper, he thinks, warmth filling him like hot chocolate on a winter afternoon. Stubborn to the end of the line.

The longer this goes on, the more unbearable it gets. Speirs’s exhaustion is palpable. It weighs him down, turning his movements sluggish and his signing hand clumsy. Not only is he slowing down their work — every time he yawns, Lipton feels the urge to do the same. It’s downright inconvenient.

Maybe it’s interesting, too, to see a side of Speirs he’s never shown off before, but Lipton won’t admit that out loud.

Something has to be done, he decides — before Speirs falls asleep at the desk.

“It’s getting a bit late, sir,” he finally suggests, keeping his tone mild. When Speirs looks up, he finds his companion’s gaze trained on the paperwork between them. Lipton allows a casual moment of silence to elapse before looking up, perfectly unassuming as he meets Speirs’s gaze. His brow is furrowed, lips pursed in a questioning frown. Lipton offers him a small smile in return. “Nearly one in the morning.”

“Is it?” Speirs sounds surprised. “Huh.”

“We could… pick this up tomorrow, if there’s nothing urgent.”

“All of this is urgent, in the eyes of whichever major or colonel’s expecting to find it on their desk. It’d be urgent if we were filling out their dry cleaning receipts.” Speirs huffs, running a hand through his dark hair; effortlessly, it goes from messy to downright disheveled, Lipton can’t help the way his gaze lingers. 

When Speirs looks up, his tired eyes catch Lipton’s own. “We’ve come this far,” he remarks, offering a twitch of his lips.

“We have,” agrees Lipton. “And miles to go before we sleep.”

Speirs’s eyebrows quirk. “Frost?”

“Afraid so.”

He breaks into a real smile, then — soft around the edges, cracking with exhaustion, but so genuine and unguarded that it feels like the air’s been punched out of Lipton’s chest. “Lieutenant, if you’re tired —“ he starts, but Lipton quickly shakes his head.

“Not at all, sir. I’m here to help as long as you need me to.”

“I need my best men in peak condition. Well-rested.”

We could say the same thing about our captain, Lipton thinks… but holds his tongue. Instead, he only meets Speirs’ gaze, and picks up another sheet of paperwork.

Speirs sighs, and returns to his own work once more.

Lipton keeps a close eye on him after that. Before, he was at least putting in the effort to be subtle... but at this point, he doubts Speirs would notice if Doc Roe walked into the room in clown makeup leading along a dancing circus bear. Speirs concentrates on his papers fiercely, as though glowering them into submission. His brows are knit close together. He holds himself up as though an iron rod has been set in his shoulders — but even Speirs cannot deny the gravity weighing his eyes down, forcing him to blink more rapidly as his breathing levels out.

Lipton waits until the rhythm of Speirs’ exhales have become steady. A few moments are spent on the work, forcing himself to focus when he’d so rather be paying attention to something else. When he looks up again, he’s unsurprised to find Speirs in the exact same position… with his eyes shut.

“Sir?” Lipton says softly. No response — not even a sigh.

Speirs is slumped forward, head bowed low, mouth open. Every soft exhale ruffles the papers in front of him; his hair hangs in his face, unruly, but beneath the curtain he wears an expression of utter tranquility.

Something clenches in Lipton’s chest like a fist. It’s the same feeling he used to get visiting his neighbor’s newborn chicks, or playing with his schoolfriend’s litter of puppies. Slowly, he pushes the paperwork aside and rises to his feet. In a matter of moments, he’s cleared the table, arranging the finished and unfinished work into separate piles and setting them aside. He lowers the lights, makes sure the windows of their occupied house are shut, and finally turns back to his lone companion.

“Captain Speirs,” he says, placing a hand on his shoulder. To his surprise, Speirs doesn’t stir. Lipton knows Speirs to be a light sleeper — they’ve shared rooms before, even a bed in Haguenau, when Lipton’s desperate coughing kept Speirs up half the night without complaint — so for him to be this far gone, he must be truly exhausted.

Lipton ought to have noticed sooner. Brows creasing, he makes a silent note to keep a close eye on their captain, to make sure he’s getting the rest he needs. Leaning a bit further, he places his free hand on Speirs’s other shoulder, jarring him softly.

“Capt—“ The word dies on his tongue. Like an echo through a tunnel, he recalls Speirs’s voice from earlier in the evening — how, as Lipton sat down across from him, Speirs smiled his close-lipped predator’s smile, and said, “I appreciate it, Carwood,” — while holding his gaze, as though the informality meant something implicit.

“Ron,” he says softly, shaking him. “Wake up, now.”

Speirs shifts, and then raises his head. For a moment, he appears lost; bleary eyes, their usual sharpness dulled by sleep, blink up at Lipton until he gets his bearings. Speirs sits back in his chair with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as Lipton steps away.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean to nod off.”

“The rest of the work can be saved for another day,” Lipton replies, biting back a smile. He is professional as ever as he steps back, nodding his head towards the stairs. “It’s late enough… and I think you’ve earned your rest.”

Speirs’s gaze lingers on him as he rises. Lipton catches the briefest flicker of… something, Speirs’s expressions always border on enigma, but in the flash he’s sure he recognizes gratitude.

“Same goes for you,” says Speirs. “Get some rest, Lipton. That’s an order.”

Finally, Lipton allows himself to crack a smile. It feels natural on his face. “Yes, sir.”

Speirs makes his way up the stairs towards their requisitioned rooms, movements languid and unhurried. Lipton lingers for a patient moment before following in his stead.

[wwhatev3r]

If you're still looking for reaction ideas: how do you think the Easy Boys would react to/help a s/o that has insomnia?

Easy Company helping S/O with Insomnia

Notes: I tried my best to be accurate and to make every single on of them ‘different’. || If you struggle with insomnia please seek medical attention and I wish you the best of lucks and good nights of sleep. <3 ly all sm.

– Dick Winters - He would do a big deal out of it, to begin with. He would notice how tired you have been and then caught you awake at 3AM, and that was the moment where he realized. He wrapped you up in his arms, brushing your hair, and said that he was going to talk to a medic to find you some medication to help you sleep and told you to go easy on yourself. He knew the biggest cause of it was stress from work. “If it happens again, which it probably will unfortunately, I want you to wake me up and tell me. Is that okay?” He told you with a sleepy voice, for being awake all night waiting for you to fall asleep first.

– Lewis Nixon - He noticed how much you move in bed every night and after a few nights he asked you what was happening. When you told him you suffered from insomnia he didn’t know what to answer. He was feeling so bad that he didn’t notice or even ask earlier.  After all, he didn't have problems sleeping at all, on the contrary. You don’t even know how he noticed, because he sleeps like a rock. He pulled you to him and he kissed your forehead and cuddled with you all night. 

“Honey, tell me what can I do to help you, please. I really don’t know, I just- I’m sorry I didn’t notice before.” He told you that night. The next night he had everything prepared for you, milk, blankets, cuddles and forbade you to drink alcohol with him. 

– Carwood Lipton - (This gentleman… I-) He woke up with you sitting on the bed crying, and he immediately asked what happened and held you from behind. You were crying out frustration, stress and fatigue. You told him what was going on and he immediately got up and knelt in front of you to clean your tears and give you a kiss. 

“Sweetheart, It’s okay. Come with me, let’s go pick something to eat really quick.” He gave you some warm food and didn't let go of you for a second. When you got more relaxed he brought you to bed and stayed with you until you fell asleep. 

– Ronald Speirs - After one or two nights of him coming back from a long night of work and you were still awake he questioned you. You continued saying that it was simply because you wanted to wait for him, but he noticed how bad your concentration was, the dark circles under your eyes and didn’t buy it. When you told him of your insomnia he didn’t say a word. He actually prepared you a warm bath and asked you what has been worrying you in the last few days, and stayed by the bath tub hearing you talk.

“I understand, I really do, but I don’t want to see you like this. Do you understand? You will kill yourself with this thoughts, you have to let them go. I’m here.” He did understand, he does have sleepless nights too.

– George Luz - He caught you during the day struggling to stay awake but when you fell asleep on his shoulder in the middle of the pub he got worried. That night he forced himself to stay awake and wait for you to fall asleep first; he tried but he fell asleep before you, but then awoke in the middle of the night with you sitting by the window. You told him about your insomnia problems, so he held your hand and proposed to go watch a movie or maybe play a game. 

“Should I annoy you more during the day to get you more tired? I'm kidding honey, I don't want to see you stressed that’s all. We’re going to fix this, I promise.” 

– Joe Liebgott - Takes a little more for Joe to fall asleep as well, but when he noticed you turning on the bed from one side to another he put his arm around you. Just by feeling his body against yours you got more relaxed but you still didn’t fall asleep. He heard you free a sight after some minutes and raised his head to check on you. You told him you had been having some trouble falling asleep, so he got up and told you to come with him. He put on a coat and helped you put on yours. 

“Come on, come with me. We’re going on a walk.” He put his arm around your waist and you both walked outside for some minutes. You open up with him and then he spoke with you a little to distract you. When you got back to bed you felt your shoulders lighter, the fresh hair helped you clean your thoughts and got you a little tired. Now you do that every night. 

– William “Bill” Guarnere - You were laying down on Bill’s chest while both were sleeping on the couch. As minutes passed you felt your eyes heavier but still you had not been able to fall asleep, once again. So you awoke Bill and told him what was going on; he sat by your side on the couch and told you to wait there. 

“My ma’ used to give me and my brothers milk with honey when we couldn't fall asleep.” he said, giving you the mug as he sat by your side and tucked your hair behind your ear. It did help, and Bill started telling some pretty funny stories about his family while you snuggled on the couch and eventually fell asleep. 

– Joe Toye - When he found out he called you out for working too much, and for your terrible sleeping schedule, but he took care of you like you’re a baby. He actually did some research and found out that exercise helps insomnia so after dinner you both go for a walk, and when it is time to go to sleep he gives you a massage to help you relax. 

“Alright, now I want to go to sleep earlier.” he told you with his husky voice as he wrapped you in his arms, “Please, do it for me. I want you to rest.” 

– Donald Malarkey - Don woke up with the noise you’re making in the kitchen in the middle of the night, so he got up and asked you if everything was okay. You explained to him what was happening and his facial expression looked like a sad kid after losing his candy. He pulled you for a hug and wrapped you in some blankets, laid you down on the bed and prepared you something to eat. Btw, a part of him was kinda worried that it was his fault, but for no reason. 

“It's going to be fine, you’re going to rest and tomorrow morning we will see what we can do to make you fall asleep.” After you finished eating he snuggled with you and you both stayed talking while he played with your hair. 

– Warren “Skip'' Muck - This cutie pie would be a little confused on what to do. But then he had an idea. He told you to wait for him in bed, and when he returned he brought a wooden box. He laid down with you, wrapped you with blankets and put his arm around you. 

“You know, when I can’t sleep I look at photos and read some of our letters.” He told you. It did indeed help you relax reading those letters, reviving memories and laughing and some of the photos and words. In the morning you both woke up with papers and photos all over the bed. Now you do it every time one of you can’t sleep. 

– Darrel “Shifty” Powers - Oh no, that simply could not happen. He believed it was his duty as your partner to make sure you were well rested. When he discovered your insomnia problems, he did not rest knowing you struggled falling asleep. His best idea was to sit outside a little bit, wrap you in blankets while looking at the moon. You just stay there chatting all night. Eventually he found some natural medicine to help you fall asleep, even though you tried to ease him by saying that it wasn't a big deal but still, he searched for everything.

“Oh, no honey, it is a big deal. You have to rest to have a healthy mind ” 

 – Eugene Roe - (He’s an Angel.) He immediately found out about your insomnia. The headaches, how unfocused you had been and the dark circles under your eyes were just the tip of the iceberg. He snuggled a bit, and then left you in bed to go prepare you a tea with rosemary, chamomile, cinnamon and honey. A recipe from his grandma. 

"Here," he gave you the mug, "Drink it, you will feel better. Now, no more coffee, drinking and staying awake at night to work yourself to death." After the tea he grabbed your hands and did some breathing exercises to relax you and eventually you fell asleep in his arms.

– Edward “Babe” Heffron - Babe would be that person who really didn’t have any idea what to do, his best idea was to stay awake and talk. But eventually the conversation grows to be a fun night and you guys start eating junk food and playing games. Of course, in the morning you guys looked for some medical help and you started taking pills to help you sleep.

“Even if the medication works, it would be awesome if we stayed awake like last night once in a while. Was so much fun.” 

– David Webster - He usually stays awake a little bit more to read a book but when he notices he is falling asleep before you some nights in a row he gets worried. When you told him about the insomnia he tried to give you a lesson on why it was happening, while cuddling with you as a way to relax you. He put on some soft music to help you fall asleep.

“It’s okay, just listen to the music and focus on my voice.” He stayed reading a book to you as he hugged you. (That 's some ASMR haha.) 

– Frank Perconte - Zero idea of what was happening, was the dark circles under your eyes that made him realize that you haven’t had a night of sleep for a long time. He asked you if you had talked to a medic already, and you said no. So he sat by your side and said:

“Sweetheart, you have to talk to one, or at least you should've told me. We’re going to find you something, I promise.” Before finding the right medication what he would do was distract you a little at night and talk a lot about what's was going on. 

– Denver “Bull” Randleman - He immediately noticed. He didn’t even ask you, at night he came with some medication that the doctor gave him. He believed that the main problem was definitely stress and that you really needed to talk to him about what was going on in your head.

“Honey, I know it is your overthinking that has taken your nights of sleep, just let every thought come out. I’m here to listen, and if you don’t feel like telling me, we can find another way as long as you’re comfortable.” His main way to help you was by talking and a lot of cuddles and warm tea.

– Johnny Martin - When you told him about the insomnia in the middle of the night he was a little caught off guard, but then got a little mad that you haven’t talked to him or a doctor about it. Until you don't have any medication his main way to make you fall asleep is by staying awake with you, watching a movie or going on a walk. He also liked to cuddle with you depending on the night.

“I don’t want you to be tired, okay? You’re going to rest, even if I have to spend the whole week awake finding a way to make you sleep.” 

– Floyd Talbert - He would notice how tired you have been in the past few days and ask you about it and when you told him he just said: “I know a pretty good way to relax you in an instant.” I think we all know his way to make you fall asleep. I don’t want this to be NSFW so I’m not going to give many details. But after that, he likes to cuddle with you, prepare a hot bath and talk to you.

I hope you liked it! <3

[web-gott]

easy company

detailed headcanons of being the only female in easy company

(i got carried away im sorry its a bit everywhere and oddly detailed. this is split into two parts for easier reading < 3 im sorry if you guys dont like it aH)

how you sign up and join the paratroopers is up to you but is also very down to the fact colonel sink is your uncle and that meant he could let things slide.

he puts you in easy company, knowing full well winters would look after you very well, not that you really want special treatment you just want to be treated like the others.

sobel. sobel gives me the energy that he believes women are very very inferior to men and that means he does treat you differently, yells worse things at you and sometimes he’s a little creepy towards you. it literally takes everything in the other guys not to start a fight or something with him.

sobel definitely makes you run up hills more than others and makes you go on longer walks just to make you weak but you always end up proving him wrong.

when sobel is gone and you guys get deployed to the actual war its like a big weight lifts off of your shoulders. it's like a breath of fresh air.

you get along with all the boys; you take care of them when they get wounded (you aren’t really medically trained, you just try) or hurt or just need a hug, sometimes even a little cry you’re there. you never ever judge them.

it's not often but having one of them in your arms crying, hiding away from everyone hurts your heart more than you ever believed it would.

you’re very close to winters and nix.

that one time in that pub were you and nix were off your faces and one thing kinda led to another, you know where i'm going with this.

the two of you don't ever really speak of that again. it happened and we move on. well nix doesn't but ssh.

most of easy company gets shot in the ass right? well you got shot in the boob once. gene was trying so hard to be polite but you just told him if he needs to touch it just do it

when you’re in bastogne, you get really sick for a couple days. you get really pale, you can't breathe properly, you're shaking even more than usual, you’re always sleepy, won't eat etc (you have the flu). so you get ordered to stay by gene’s side most of the time so he can always keep an eye on you but when he’s busy or not there the boys take it in turns to sit with you in a foxhole and make sure you’re safe and getting better.

turns out luz is actually the comfiest shoulder to sleep on.

you’re like the only easy company member that doesn't have a slight hatred to web, you actually like him but maybe cause he’s not as pretentious to you also because web has a crush on you

of course a lot of the guys do, you’re literally perfect. (u are ssh)  

not all of them but this means that the boys are overprotective of you a lot. like sometimes if you’re at a pub or something and one of the boys from another division gets a little too touchy or mouthy, normally like guarnere or toye or lieb will literally scare them off or if that doesn’t work, square up to them.

that time were you walked past some boys from another division sat on a truck in haguenau with speirs and they started wolf whistling and commenting on your body and you honestly don't think speirs has ever scared as many people as that before.

speirs also has a massive crush on you.

dick always tries to check up on you at the end of each day to make sure you’re feeling okay, which you admire. once you complimented him on his hair colour and honest to god, you’ve never seen a guy blush so hard.

(part two coming soon!)

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 3

The Wildest Times of the World

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.9k

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies @how-are-those-nuts-sarge​ @iilovemusic12us @hesbuckcompton-baby @tvserie-s-world @whovian45810 If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Sorry this update took so long! But I hope y’all enjoy it :)

Warning(s): none :)

Chapter 1  Chapter 2

AO3 link

Chapter 3 let’s go!

Three chilly October days after Ron’s abrupt departure from London - which Juliet was still seething about - she arrived home from the store to a different person she expected to never hear from again. Lottie stood at the front door, muttering to herself about whether or not to knock. Juliet was especially surprised because it was raining, which would have normally kept the editor indoors if she could help it. Juliet watched a moment, not wanting to give away her presence immediately. It satisfied her to watch Lottie fret like this. After a few moments, Juliet caved and cleared her throat. 

Lottie gasped as she whipped around, clutching at her chest. “Heaven's sake, Juliet! How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long,” Juliet said, intentionally vague. “Can I help you, Lottie?” 

“Well…” Lottie hesitated, shifting her weight and toying with the fingertips of her gloves. “Shall we go in? I really need to speak to you.” 

Juliet decided not to comment on Lottie’s self-invite into the house. She figured with no other job openings popping up, this could be her opportunity to try and gain back some favor at the London Pursuit. She couldn’t imagine that Lottie was here for a personal reason. That was not the sort of manager she was. 

Once inside, Lottie followed Juliet to the kitchen - again, kindly not saying anything about the state of the house. Juliet set her grocery bags on the table before taking her coat off. Lottie shrugged hers off as well, removed her hat and gloves, and took a seat. 

“Cuppa?” Juliet offered. 

“Sure,” Lottie replied. 

Juliet put the kettle on. Then she started unloading the bags. 

“So, what did you want to speak to me about?” she asked, trying to sound as casual as she could. 

“It’s the Albourne story,” Lottie said, voice tight, almost like she was spitting the words out. “All the other reporters are too busy to cover it. And if I have to go through the process of hiring someone new, we won’t get it in time.” 

“I’ve already told you, I think it’s -”

“You needn’t remind me of your insolent remarks,” she snapped. 

Juliet sighed, picked up a can of beans and placed it slowly in the cupboard, forming as polite a response as she could muster. But Lottie beat her to the next word. 

“If you agree to cover this story, I’ll let you cover the war down there,” she said. 

Juliet almost slammed the cupboard door shut in surprise. “What?” 

“You can cover the war news from there,” Lottie repeated. 

“Do you know something the rest of us don’t?” Juliet returned. “Because if you know the Germans are in Aldbourne and you haven’t said anything until now, you might be in trouble, Lottie.”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean, Juliet. The Americans are there, you could write about them.” 

Juliet bit back the snappy retort she had about that, and dialed it down. “Fascinating as the Yanks are, I reckon they’re not doing much actual fighting in Aldbourne. Unless you mean brawling in pubs.”

The English had almost adjusted to the American presence by now. However, Juliet had slipped out of more than one pub after a fight broke out between some bright-eyed, blue-blooded American who spoke too boldly about their importance in the war effort and an Englishman who naturally took offense to the effort of “our own lads” being minimized. It escalated. Drinks were thrown, followed shortly by fists. Others jumped in to either assist or attempt to separate the combatting parties, only to get swept up in the action either way. It was entertaining, sure, but Juliet thought it made rather a mockery of the term “Allies.” 

“They’re doing something there,” Lottie insisted. “And I give you full permission to try and find out what. As long as you cover the story about the girl as well.” 

“Observing Americans isn’t really covering the war, and you know it, Lottie,” Juliet said. 

“I’m not sending a woman to the front line, there would be a mob at the office door,” Lottie said. “I personally don’t care if you want to go and get yourself shot, but your blood cannot be on my hands.”

Juliet had to concede that point. Other papers had already suffered the ramifications of sending women reporters even within the vicinity of the front. There were boycotts led by counter-feminist groups and concerned mothers about the message it sent about women’s roles. It was one thing for women to work while men fought the war, but to put them in the line of fire? That was just indecent. 

“Well, good to know my life isn’t as much of your concern as public opinion,” Juliet joked.

Lottie frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Relax, Lottie, I’m taking the piss,” Juliet returned with a wave of her hand. 

She paused, mulling over the offer Lottie was bringing. She wasn’t in much of a position to refuse work, but the idea of covering that gruesome story was almost too much to bear. Even if she was a bit interested in what the Americans were doing. Then, something else crossed her mind. 

“Why do you want this covered so badly?” she asked. 

Lottie’s face flushed and her mouth drew tight, which Juliet understood to mean the reason would not be to her liking. She braced herself. 

“A family friend is with the Wiltshire police,” Lottie admitted. “He thinks it would look good for the department to solve a case like this and put the murderer away. And to have the press cover it, especially a London paper with circulation throughout the country.”

Juliet couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “You’re killing me, Lottie.” 

“This is the deal I’m offering,” Lottie sighed. “I know you’re opposed to it, but this is the compromise I’m willing to make.”

 Juliet considered her options. She did need the money. But the subject matter and the reasoning were so against her ideals and ethics as a journalist. How could she live with herself if she broke them for money? But there was her mother to consider as well. Which brought up another objection. 

“Even if I wanted to,” she said. “I can’t. It leaves no one here to look after Mum.” 

“I thought you had a brother,” Lottie returned. 

“He lives on Guernsey,” Juliet reminded her, minding her tone so she wouldn’t sound too bitter. “Otherwise, I’m certain he’d be here.”

Lottie shifted uncomfortably. “I apologize. I forgot.”

“S’fine,” Juliet replied.  

“Can’t you hire someone to look after your mother?” Lottie asked. 

Juliet only raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her - as if to say, “you’ve seen the house, you think we can afford help?” Lottie understood the implication. 

“What if…” Lottie trailed off, considering. “What if I hired someone to look after her?”

Juliet blinked. “That’s...generous of you, Lottie, but I’d never be able to pay you back or -”

“Don’t worry about that,” Lottie said. “I want this story and - believe it or not - I want it done well. I know you’ll handle it as tastefully as possible and you could really show that -” 

She was cut off by the kettle screeching its completion to boil, so Juliet went to take it off the burner and fetch some tea cups. She poured the tea and served it, and Lottie thanked her quietly, almost abashed by her admission to decency. But there was something more. 

“Really show what?” Juliet pressed.

Lottie heaved a defeated sigh. Like admitting this was something that exasperated her. “That women can handle tough topics. It’s not covering the war, but it’s a step in that direction.” 

Juliet couldn’t help but agree. If women could handle murder and the investigation surrounding it, surely women could be seen as sensible enough to tackle tragedy on a larger scale. They weren’t going to faint at the sight of blood or burst into tears over sentimentality. She couldn’t help herself. Juliet wanted to be part of that narrative. 

“Lottie, I’m surprised at you,” she teased. “I didn’t take you for such a feminist.” 

Lottie’s jaw dropped and she gaped at Juliet, totally affronted at the suggestion. “I am no such thing!” 

Juliet shrugged, unfazed. “Yeah, I probably wouldn’t be either if I had your tits.” 

Lottie could only sputter in response and Juliet snickered before sipping her tea.

“Juliet!” Lottie scolded. 

“I’ll do it,” Juliet said suddenly. 

Lottie closed her mouth, stunned. “You’ll - you’ll do the story?” 

“Yes,” Juliet assured her, smiling. “You’ve given me a real reason to. And if there’s someone here to look after Mum and I can get a bit of war news as well, then what choice do I have but to say yes? You drive a hard bargain, Lottie.”

Lottie’s relief was palpable. “Thank you, Juliet. Really.” 

“When do I go?” Juliet asked. 

“There’s a train to Aldbourne tomorrow morning at nine,” Lottie said. 

“I’ll be on it.” 

***

Aldbourne was probably a village that once called itself sleepy. But now it was overrun by Americans - mostly paratroopers - which created an upheaval the likes of which many residents had never seen before. There was life in the town. The Women’s Land Army, or “land girls” as they were called, were taking full advantage of the flirting opportunities that arose with these American men, who lacked British decorum and were therefore prime targets for a fling. As Juliet walked from the station to her lodgings, with all the people mulling through the heart of the village, she found it almost hard to believe she was there to report on a murder. 

Lodgings were difficult to come by with the Americans billeted in just about any space they could fit. Even horses were having to share their stables. But Lottie pulled some strings and got Juliet a room above the Blue Boar, a pub. She wasn’t sure how much sleep she’d really be able to get with the noise of a pub below her, but she didn’t dare complain. Not when she was one step closer to getting what she wanted. 

The owner was a portly, older gentleman by the name of Jacob Powell. His kind, round face welcomed Juliet warmly, and she was grateful for the reception. She didn’t want to infringe too much on his hospitality, so she refused a cup of tea for the moment, insisting she needed to get unpacked and to the police station as soon as possible. 

“Oh, yeah, that's a gruesome business about the little girl,” Jacob said. “Are you really going to write a story about it?” 

“I’m no Agatha Christie or anything, but I’m going to do my best,” she returned, keeping her tone light. She wasn’t in the habit of discussing a story with just anyone. 

He shook his head. “It’s just a right shame.”

“Concisely put, Mr. Powell,” she replied. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

“Right, sorry,” he said bashfully, and he reminded her that the offer for tea still stood if she changed her mind before closing the door behind him. 

First, Juliet set down her suitcase with her clothes. Second, she heaved her typewriter onto the desk in the corner of the room. It was beside the one window that looked out onto the street. Juliet approved of the set up since she liked natural light while she wrote. She got her things exactly where she wanted them, but hadn’t bothered to remove her hat and coat since she was going right back out. Securing her notebook, pen, and room key, she left. 

The police station was one of the dullest she’d ever seen. Given the nature of the town, it didn’t surprise her. Lottie’s contact was Otis Allen, a lieutenant in the Wiltshire Police, who was still in Aldbourne to lead the investigation. He was a tall, thin man, with kind blue eyes and straw-like blonde hair. Rather unimposing for being in law enforcement. But Juliet observed right away the misshapen mound where his right ear should have been. He mentioned it before she had the opportunity to ask. 

“Sorry about the grisly ear,” he said. “My gift from the Germans last time they had a go at us.”

“A bit rude,” she teased. “Flowers would have suited just fine, I think.” 

He chuckled at that as he gestured for her to take a seat across from him at his desk. With that, she noticed a gnarled hand - the few fingers he had left were permanently curled under themselves. He disguised it fairly well with a glove, but she saw anyway. 

“Those Jerries really overdid it on the gifts,” she remarked. “I bet it wasn’t even your birthday.”

He fully laughed at that and she noticed his expression softened. When they’d met, he’d been a bit rigid, but his muscles relaxed now, put at ease by her gentle humor. 

“Thanks for that,” he said. 

She cocked her head to the side. “For what?”

“For the jokes,” he answered. “Ever since that war, all I get are pitying looks or fear. Thanks for treating it like it’s...normal.” 

“I’ll leave pity to the nurses,” she said with a smile. “Now, what have you got so far on the case?”  

He went over the basics with her. In September, a six-year-old girl, Peggy Lee, was drowned in the tub, allegedly by her host, Meredith Fisher. Peggy had been with the Fisher’s since January with no reported issues. When Peggy did not arrive for school the next day, her teacher phoned the Fisher’s home with no answer. They chalked it up to Peggy being ill or some other explainable matter, and moved on. When she was absent the following day as well, they called again, and Meredith told them that yes, Peggy was ill, and could not come to school for a few days. Ashley Fisher, Meredith’s husband, was in London on business at the time, and when he returned at the end of the week, found Peggy’s body and called the police. Meredith claimed initially there was an accident, but evidence from Peggy’s autopsy proved foul play was involved. Juliet took fervent notes as Otis explained it all, trying not to get disgusted by the whole thing. 

“Where is Mrs. Fisher being held now?” Juliet asked. “Surely not here in Aldbourne.” 

“‘Course not, she’s in Trowbridge,” Otis assured her. “Mr. Fisher is here though, if you’d like to speak to him.” 

She blinked. “Is he an expert on the case or something?”

“Well, no -”

“Then what insight could he possibly give me?” 

“He’s a witness,” he reminded her. 

“Investigators and lawyers question witnesses,” she said. “I need facts from experts to put the story into context. His testimony would only sway readers' emotions, and that’s not what I’m after.” 

He smiled. “Well. You’re not like any reporter I’ve ever met.” 

“I should hope not,” she returned. “I’m not covering this for the sensation. Why do you think I haven’t asked you where the Lee family is?”

His eyebrows went up a ways on his forehead. “You’re not going to interview them at all?”

She shook her head. “Nope. An interview with them is even less useful than an interview with Mr. Fisher. They weren’t even witnesses.” 

His eyes sparkled as he looked at her. “Right. Emotional appeal instead of factual.”

“Exactly,” she said. “And besides, I’m sure the last thing they need right now is some reporter sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.” 

“I like you, Miss Fletcher,” he said simply. “You’ve got...surprising respect for this. And a good head on your shoulders.” 

Juliet forced a smile to swallow her question if he’d be surprised by her if she were a man. She didn’t know where her control came from during interviews, but she was grateful for it. 

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said. “Lottie told me the goal was to get this story widely circulated, and I truly believe that’s possible with the facts alone. I don’t believe in patronizing the audience to get their attention.” 

“You’ve got more faith in people than I do,” he scoffed. “But I like your style. I look forward to working with you.” 

“The feeling is mutual,” she returned. She did like Otis, even if he had briefly underestimated her. “Tomorrow I’ll be able to meet with the doctor who conducted the autopsy, yes?” 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “The prosecution is having a psychiatrist evaluate Mrs. Fisher this week, so I’ll keep you updated on that as well.” 

“I’d love an interview with the prosecutor too, if that’s possible,” she said. 

“I’ll speak to him about it,” he told her. “Have a good evening, Miss Fletcher.” 

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” 

They shook hands before she parted. She made her way back to the Blue Boar, dodging GIs all along the way. They were winding down for the day, it seemed, going for runs, dates, or drinks, depending on their mood. She got a whistle or two, which she ignored, mentally going over her notes. She was also relieved she wasn’t going to have to fight Otis on how to do the story. She really was getting free reign on how to put this all together, and she was excited by the opportunities that meant for her. 

Her excitement was sucked away when she reached the Blue Boar and found her things had been hurled onto the street. Her mouth fell open. She had only just arrived, what on earth could she have done?

She marched toward the door, straightening up to her full height, prepared to demand an answer from Jacob. But she didn’t have to go far, he met her at the doorway, blocking her entrance with a glower on his face that could have melted snow. 

“What’s the meaning of this?!” she demanded. 

“I don’t want any of your sort staying in my establishment!” he shot back. “Did you think you could fool me?! I read the papers!”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” she returned. “What papers?!” 

He pulled a rolled up newspaper out of his back pocket and threw it at her. She caught it and opened it with a snap. She recognized it as a society gossip periodical that she usually tried to avoid. On the side of the page, she read the headline “ARTHUR BURNS’ EX-FIANCE TURNS LADY OF THE EVENING?” with a photo of her leaving the hotel she’d met Ron in, looking furious as she absolutely was that day. Her heart dropped as she read the copy beneath. 

Desperate times must truly call for desperate measures, it began. Juliet Fletcher, 31, who just earlier this year was scorned by Arthur Burns when he terminated their engagement, was spotted leaving a hotel after a rendezvous with a mysterious American. The receptionist, who wished to remain anonymous, said Fletcher returned the following day, found the Yank gone, and stormed out, seething. 

‘It was clearly a dispute over money,’ the receptionist said. ‘They left the hotel together early in the morning, and she came back in the evening after he’d checked out. She was so sneaky about what she needed, I knew it couldn’t be anything respectable. And then to be as furious as she was about his leaving, it was obviously about an unpaid sum.’

Could it be that Miss Fletcher has fallen into disgrace after Mr. Burns left her? Could it be that she needed additional income after becoming accustomed to the Burns lifestyle? What else could possibly drive her to stoop to such lows? 

The Burns family refused to comment for this story, and Miss Fletcher herself appears to be out of town at the moment. And who can blame her?

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” she cried. “It isn’t true!”

“Pictures don’t lie, missy,” Jacob practically spat. “Now clear off from my property or I’ll have the police on you!”

A small crowd had gathered to watch the confrontation unfold. Doubtless, the raised voices had drawn attention to them, but Juliet could not bring herself to care. The injustice of it made her blood boil. She squared her shoulders and planted her feet. 

“It’s not true, you idiot!” she shouted. “This paper is known for misrepresenting the people they write about!” 

“I said - CLEAR OFF, YOU!” he roared. 

She scowled at him as fiercely as she could manage, but he slammed the door in her face. Head held high, she went and snatched her things off the ground, slinging them onto her shoulders before facing him again. 

“THIS ISN’T OVER!” she hollered back. When she turned on her heel and saw the Aldbourne residents watching with avid interest, she snapped at them too. “Should we have sold tickets?! Mind your business, people!” 

Properly scolded, they scattered like roaches. Juliet heaved a sigh, wondering where to point her feet. Fuming, she considered parking herself outside the door and shouting until Jacob had no choice but to hear her out, but she couldn’t risk arrest. Not when she was relying on the police as sources for her story. 

Her thoughts were completely interrupted when a platoon of paratroopers jogged across the square from where she stood. Leading them was the man Juliet held solely responsible for all her troubles as of late - Ron Speirs. She told herself not to get distracted by the sweat on his brow or the way his backside looked in the little shorts he had on, and focus on what mattered. He was getting away with what had happened - or rather not happened - while she was publicly shamed. Abandoning her bags, she hurtled after the platoon, catching up with surprising speed in her heels. 

“HEY!” she bellowed. 

The whole platoon stuttered in their cadence, and the few in the back turned their heads at the sound of her voice. Ron either didn’t hear her, or ignored her, and she wasn’t sure which was more infuriating. She gained on them. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to get louder, absolutely refusing to be ignored. 

“RONALD SPEIRS!” she yelled. 

He called his men to a halt, stopping alongside them and turning to face her. He blinked in surprise at the sight of her - he had evidently not expected her here - but he didn’t say anything right away. She caught her breath as she marched up to him. This time, she was ready, wallet in her coat pocket. She whipped it out and brandished it like a sword. 

“No one pays me a kindness and gets away with it!” she shouted, popping the wallet open and fishing out the bills she owed him. “That,” she slapped the first few onto his chest, and he caught them before they fluttered to the ground. “Is for my half of the hotel room!” She did not acknowledge the snickers that went through the platoon, and then forced a second handful of money into his hand. “And that is for the potatoes and cab fare!” 

He looked levelly at her. “I really didn’t expect to be -” 

“I don’t care what you expected!” she continued. “You left me to look like a prize idiot!” 

He glanced at his platoon, who were murmuring to each other as speculation began about how their lieutenant knew this strange woman. 

“I’d rather have this conversation in private if it’s all the same to you,” he said. 

“It’s not all the same to me, you punk!” She accentuated this with a shove to his arm. He didn’t move, but it made her feel better. “You humiliated me in front of the stupid hotel girl, which has now resulted in me losing my lodgings, so yeah, I’m going to stand here and embarrass you in front of your little mates!” 

“Juliet -” 

“How dare you leave before I could pay you back!” she went on fiercely. “You said you’d be there! You lied right to my face! Like a - a - a liar!” 

“Eloquently said,” he returned. 

“I don’t need your wise-ass remarks!” 

“Settle down.” 

“I WILL NOT SETTLE DOWN!” 

Her face was red with how much yelling she’d been doing, so she took a deep breath to collect herself. She felt a tingle in her throat, so she tried to clear it. 

“I’m going to, though,” she said. “Not because you told me to, but because my voice is getting hoarse.” 

He stared at her for a beat. “Okay. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“The receptionist at the hotel in London spoke to a gossip columnist about seeing us together,” she said. “Now, the owner of the Blue Boar says he won’t have one of ‘my sort’ in his rooms.” 

“I see,” he said with a nod. “I’ll sort it out.”

“No, I can’t owe you another favor,” she returned. 

“So you just came over here to yell at me?” he asked, to clarify. 

“And pay you back!” she insisted. “Now that’s been accomplished, we can part ways and I’ll never speak to you again. Starting now.” 

“Juliet -” 

“Starting now!”

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed away. He watched her go for a moment, enjoying the way her skirt swished around her legs, the shape of which he enjoyed more than he cared to admit. Shaking his head to clear it, he faced his men again. He noticed the stifled laughter behind their hands and smirks on their faces.

“Something funny?” he snapped with a scowl. 

They straightened up and muttered quick “no, sir”s under his glare. 

“Good, we’ve got a run to finish,” he said. 

They continued down the road. But Ron knew just what he was going to do afterward. 

***

Night fell over Aldbourne like a frigid shadow. Juliet, with aching feet and chattering teeth, took shelter in a phone booth across from the Blue Boar, having scoured the village for anywhere else to stay to no avail. And she was not a moment too soon in closing the booth door. Just seconds after she did, a soft rain began to patter against it. 

She needed to call Lottie and see what her options were. She couldn’t stay in Aldbourne without a room, but that put everything on hold. She pushed the coins into the slot and called Lottie at home, adding guilt to her weariness. 

“Hello?” came Lottie’s voice after just two rings, which relieved Juliet a little since it meant she was not in bed already. 

“Lottie, it’s Juliet,” Juliet said. “Look, something’s happened and your friend Jacob’s given me the boot.” 

“What?” Lottie questioned. “Why?” 

“Some stupid fucking article accusing me of being a prostitute,” Juliet snapped. 

“There’s no need for that kind of language,” Lottie replied coolly. 

Juliet hesitated a beat. “Okay, given the nature of what I said, I’m not sure if you’re referring to ‘fuck’ or ‘prostitute.’”

“Both,” Lottie said, and before Juliet could protest, she went on. “Tell me what you’re talking about.”

Juliet explained everything - that her arrival went fine, but at some point during her interview with Otis, Jacob had read that article about the hotel nonsense, and had refused to let her back inside. 

“Now I’m stuck in a phone booth,” she finished. 

A beat passed and Juliet feared for a fleeting second that her time had run out. She dug in her pocket for more coins, but Lottie spoke again. 

“So...what were you doing in a hotel room with an American?” she asked. 

“That’s your takeaway from everything I just said?!” Juliet cried, incredulous. “Lottie, I’m exhausted and freezing, I need a place to stay or a ticket home!” 

“Was it something indecent?” Lottie pressed.

“No!” Juliet returned. “Look, I got drunk, I almost got hurt, and he just looked after me for the night, but nothing happened, I swear. Believe me, he’s the last man on Earth I’d ever want to shag, even if he is ridiculously good loo-”

She stopped suddenly and whipped around when she heard a knock on the door. There he stood. Ronald Speirs, looking expectantly at her. 

“Son of a BITCH!” she swore, stamping her foot. 

“I beg your pardon!” Lottie gasped. 

“Must go, Lottie, my mystery American has returned,” Juliet said through clenched teeth. “Aldbourne’s about to have another murder on its hands.” 

She hung up harshly, slamming the phone down before Lottie could protest. Then she wrenched the door and faced him, eyes blazing. She opened her mouth, preparing to dismiss him completely, but he beat her to the punch. 

“Jacob changed his mind,” he said. “You can have your room back.” 

She deflated and blinked at him in surprise. “I said I didn’t want -”

“Do you want a bed for the night or not?” he cut across her. 

Her drained muscles screamed at her to agree, but her pride was stronger. She started to refuse him again. 

“Buy me a drink, and we’ll call it even,” he said, as if reading her mind. 

“That’s not really the same,” she argued. 

“I didn’t go out of my way,” he told her. “The Blue Boar is where the officers drink. It came up, I explained, simple as that.” 

“Okay, one drink.” She held his gaze. “And then we’ll never speak again.”

He looked into her eyes, so long and so intensely, in any other context she would have thought he might kiss her. But he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t do anything. He just shrugged, turned, and walked back toward the pub. She didn’t totally blame him since the rain was beginning to come down harder. With a defeated sigh, she scrambled to collect her things and followed him. 

[bitch-butter]

(Modern!AU Webgott idea. Longish? Will eventually be called true bluish light. Tell me if this is interesting lol

Rated C for mentions of Joe's poor COVID protocol)

* * *

The blackout curtains that hung over the single window in the somewhat narrow bedroom were intensely effective, shrouding the occupants of the bed in a heavy darkness that even the daylight outside could not permeate. The still potent smell of sex lingered over the room, sweat and saliva and everything else casting a gross and homey aroma over the rumpled sheets and discarded clothing along the floor. Just around the edges of the curtain was a thin, white glow, but beyond that absent suggestion of light the room remained dark and still, as though nobody was there at all.

Pulling in a deep breath, Joe admitted he really shouldn’t have been there.

Shouldn’t have stayed the night, at least, if anything for the sake of his own reputation. He’s not typically one to go full spoons with a stranger (or, practically a stranger) no matter how good the sex had been, and he’s definitely never been one to spend the night somewhere that is not his bed. He’s spent years crafting his bed, has read actual magazine articles about how to create the best, most comfortable space, and after many years of hard work he is lucky enough to have created what many have called the Coziest Place in America. Suffice it to say, he does not like to spend a night in someone else's bed and he doesn’t think he needs to apologize for it.

This bed isn’t the worst, though.

And the guy that came with it wasn’t the worst either, he had to say. Joe had been ready to delete the app that led him to this guy and his bed, but it’s funny what a ‘ping’ on a lonely Friday night after nearly a year of no sex could do. Turns out that celibacy has made him into a fucking cuddler.

He’s not all that sorry about it. Keeping his distance from contact with other humans has handily prevented him from catching COVID thus far, and not everybody in his circle can say the same thing, as Tab had caught it first out of all of them via an ill-timed jaunt to Miami and Lip had had it twice now by virtue of his shoddy lungs and over-eagerness to lend a hand to people in his building. But a year is long, and half a bottle of cold Kim Crawford accomplished a lot at diminishing his capacity to give a shit about anything other than getting some attention on his dick. As long as the guy had sworn he tested negative, which he had, and Joe himself had tested negative, which he was, he saw no reason not to waltz into a total strangers apartment to merrily screw for as long as they both could stand to.

And it turns out this guy can stand a lot.

Joe has to admit at least half the reason he spent the night was that he actually was exhausted by the sheer voracity of their fucking. They oughta hand out medals for this shit, or something.

He finds himself smiling as he lets his mind wander over their earnestly passionate exploits of just a few hours past, and proceeds to let his eyes linger on the form of his companion. Though the room outside the warm enclosure of the blankets is a little cool the guy has one bare leg stretched out along the sheets, pressed up tightly against Joe’s own blanketed legs, with the remaining covers bundled against his chest. Resting mostly sideways on his belly, his face is turned towards Joe in sleep, mashed into the pillows and yet somehow managing to look as effortlessly gorgeous as he had looked in his photos on the app. His body moves with deep breaths, the steady inhale and exhale in combination with the sheltering warmth of the blanket nearly lulling Joe back to sleep.

Nearly.

He needed to get up, at the very least to find his phone and check the time. As carefully as he could he extracted his body from the tangle of covers, stepping lightly onto the carpet with his eyes on the other guy's face all the while, mindful not to disturb him. The night before he hadn’t even bothered to check his messages before passing out, and as such headed straight for the amorphous blob of his pants that rested just a foot away from the bed, crouching and reaching into his back pocket to grab his phone.

He hadn’t told Babe where he was going, as he’d only gathered the stones to go circa 11p.m. and he figured Babe was either asleep or performing his Getting Ready to Fuck routine and wouldn’t want to be disturbed. He almost feels sorry for Babe, who had loved the idea of dating a future doctor until this year when the sexiness of it was side-swiped by the actual danger the position entailed. As such, the Getting Ready to Fuck routine had an extra layer of manic energy to it, and Joe knew better than to try and pull Babe’s attention away from the hours preceding Gene’s rare, rare, rare visits to the apartment.

Even so, the amount of message icons he was presented with was unexpected to say the least.

He raised his eyebrows, nearly humming in interest as he noted the time. Jesus Christ, these blackout curtains are really worth their salt if it was nearly noon.

Tapping into his messages, he found a trickle of anxiety rolling down his spine.

FRI AT 11:42PM

Babe

Hey where r u?

I gotta talk to you

SAT AT 12:00AM

Babe

Are you coming back?? Srs need to talk

Feb 5 12:00AM

Missed call/Mobile

Babe

SAT AT 12:02AM

Gene Roe

Hi Joe, it’s Gene. idk if i gave you my number?

Trying to get a hold of you, call/text when you get a chance

Thanks

SAT AT 12:20AM

C h u c k

Babe is trying to find you

Feb 5 12:30AM

Missed call/Mobile

Babe

SAT AT 12:50AM

Speirs Ron

Why am i getting texts at 12:45 at night asking me to find you?

Well, something is fucking happening. And he’s at least 100% sure he wants no fucking part of it because any drama that starts after 11p.m. is the drama of the goddamn devil.

Fighting not to heave an enormous sigh, Joe reluctantly acknowledges that he should pull his clothes on and get out of here if there really is an emergency in the vicinity of his roommate. Looking back over his naked shoulder Joe tries to catch a glance at the guy in the bed, at the length of his bare leg in the semi-darkness, and the angle of his shoulder protruding from the blankets where he curled. He’d happily get back in that bed and go another round or five.

As though alerted to Joe’s presence by the cosmos, his phone begins buzzing in his hand. Huffing in annoyance, he attempts to reject the call at least until he can get out of the room, but throws himself off kilter and bangs his elbow into the bedside table, jostling a glass of water and a pile of paperbacks.

“Shit,” he curses, grasping at his elbow and shooting a glance back to the guy, whose eyes are already open and alerted to the noise.

Damn it.

The guy blinks slowly, bleary, for a moment before pulling his face from his pillows and angling up onto his side. “Hi,” he greets softly, running a hand through his mussed hair.

“Hi,” Joe nods back, grimacing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

The guy shakes his head, looking for all intents and purposes like he means it. “Not at all,” he sniffs, meeting Joe’s eyes in the darkness with a still-sleepy smile. “What time is it?”

“Oh man, it’s like noon.”

Furrowing his brow, the guy nods back before shooting Joe a wry smile. “We tired ourselves out, huh?”

Joe laughs, seeing his phone light up in his hand with a new message. “Speak for yourself.”

At the interested quirk of the other man’s brow Joe hastily gives a shake of his head and stands. “I’ll get out of your hair quick, no worries, just be a minute.”

The guy frowns, sitting up in the bed to let the blankets pool around his hips, hands coming to rest between his legs. “Oh, well, don’t feel like you have to.”

Joe pauses, pants in hand. “Oh, it’s not -”

“I mean, if you want to go then for sure, but like…” the guy waves a hand, pursing his lips before smiling and coughing out a laugh. “Are you hungry? I have eggs, I can make you something before you go.”

He hesitates, eyes pivoting from the guy, to his phone still in his hand, and back to the guy and his open, expectant face. After a moment, he clears his throat. “You know, I could eat.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I could, could you?”

The guy smiles, and even in this mostly dark room Joe can see he has dimples and has to hold himself back from practically swooning, cursing his half-drunk self of the night prior for not remembering exactly how attractive this guy was. “I could use some coffee, is what I can use,” he says, stretching his arms over his head, and Joe is treated to the sight of his bare, bitten up chest. Usually he doesn’t take much notice of his partner's body hair, but as he lets his eyes trace over the guy's chest and legs as he moves to stand he finds himself clearing his throat and getting a little warm along his neck.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he responded distractedly, pulling his eyes away from the luscious sight of the guy's ass as he bends to retrieve his underwear and instead moving to put his own on. After a second thought he pulls on his shirt as well; might do him some good if he finds himself flushing up at just a glimpse of this guy's ass.

As he slips his shirt over his head, the guy turns to him with a bit of a sheepish look on his face. “Can I admit something?” he asks, lips scrunched.

Joe pauses, still grasping the hem of his shirt. “What?”

“I…” he starts, before chuckling somewhat awkwardly. “I don’t totally remember your name...”

A fair bit of relief surges through him at that, and Joe finds himself huffing out a laugh of his own, and adds another one at the half-embarrassed and half-expectant smile the guy gives him. “Can I admit something back?”

“What?”

“I don’t remember yours either.”

The guy's eyes widen minutely, before he tips his head back and laughs, nodding gently as he rubs a hand over his face. “Is it bad manners to say that’s a relief?”

“I think it’s alright as long as neither of us care,” Joe said, pushing his hair back, before stepping up to the guy and extending a hand. “I’m Joe.”

The guy grasped his hand in a sure grip. “David,” he replied with a little shake of their hands, before leaning in and pressing a dry kiss to Joe’s cheek. “Nice to meet you.”

Joe turned his face into David’s, catching his lips in a tender, if chaste, kiss. “Nice to meet you.”

[mercurygray]

12 for Ron and Billie! Juno xx

12: things you said when you thought i was asleep

Mildly NSFW! Because, you know...it's them.

--

There are lots of words for a woman like her.

A pistol, a spitfire, a bombshell, a live grenade - a woman who is beautiful and deadly and liable to harm you, if you use her wrong, and Billie Mitchell doesn't mind owning to all of them. So what if she's got something of a short fuse and an explosive temper? That's just part of who she is - and what makes her a good medic and a good soldier.

It's what makes him a good soldier, too. Him. The man she's supposed to call her Captain now.

They are both people of action, a man and a woman who believe that when you see a thing that needs doing, you do it, without hesitation or question, and hell take the consequences later.

But despite that, there is this...this thing that has been between them since Bastogne, this wound-up watchspring that has been getting tighter and tighter since she slid into his foxhole in the Bois Jacques and asked him, without batting an eye or missing a beat, why he'd gone and done a fool thing like that.

So when Ron Speirs comes to the medic's temporary quarters in Haguenau, after dark and when no one else is there, demanding to see her reports, she takes it for what she knows it is and kisses him instead.

And he fights her for every moment of it, but his lips never leave hers, nor his hands her body.

It's been four months since Pegasus and three months since she was someplace warm enough to feel her own hand and he feels good, in all the places she wants him to be, even if they're both still half dressed and not even trying to make as little noise as possible in this deserted house.

(She realizes, mid-coitus, that she's still calling him 'sir' - and that he seems to like it.)

And after he's spent and they're lying together, she realizes the tension is gone, and where the watchspring was is...him smiling at her, and her smiling back, and she wants to stay like this for a long while, the weight of him pushing her into this mattress, maybe with his head underneath her chin. There is still something sleek and dangerous about him now, even like this - but tamed, somehow, like he'll still bite any hand but hers.

"I should go."

"Just sleep here," she says, uncaring. "Lipton's got the only bed anyway. And probably Marj in it too."

He chuckles at that, sated and sleepy. "That so?" He sounds surprised, but she knows there's not much that would surprise him. (He sees things other people don't.)

"Mmmhhhmm."

This seems to be enough for him, and he fixes to get a little more comfortable, at least for a little while, pulling the blanket up around his chin and nestling closer. And just when they are on the edge of sleep, he murmurs something. "Goodnight, Billie."

This is, she realizes, the first time he's called her by her name. It sounds like honey on his tongue, a badge of honor all its own, and in that moment, that is all she wants to be.