#rosie rosenthal x oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bloodynereid · 1 month

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Those Sunlit Kisses

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least he was finally here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Rosie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A fighter pilot?”

“Oh dear God no. I pilot B-17s.”

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

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

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

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

“That would be wonderful.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

“Rosie?”

“Hmm?”

“Water?”

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

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

“You have a great collection.”

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

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

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

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

“How bad?”

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

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

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

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

“I barely even know you-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is what you got from that?”

“Well it’s the truth isn’t it?”

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

“One day you will.”

“Will not.”

“Will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not at all.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s not that cold, Lucy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Major Rosenthal, ma’am.”

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

“Renata…”

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

“That sounds great.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You can bet on it, Lucy.”

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be waiting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I had some things at the B&B.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Flirt.”

“You love it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m an American, what can I say?”

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

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

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

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

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

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

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

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

“Did you sleep well?”

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

“Do you have any plans for today?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Good, because I have no plans.”

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

“Hello there?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Do I?”

“Hmmm.”

“Rosie, I need to wash the dishes.”

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

“What are we doing, Rosie?”

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

“Yes. And I get to call you mine.”

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

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

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

“Whatever you would like.”

“Does a picnic sound nice?”

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

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

“Do you really?”

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

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

“Rosie… you don’t have to.”

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

“You wouldn’t do that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thought we might need this.”

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

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

“You need to stop that.”

“What? Saying the truth?”

“Rosie…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know almost everything about me, darling.”

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

“No, no. Nothing of the sort.”

“Alright fine, Saint Rosie.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Any dirty secrets.”

“Hmm, a few, but my lips are sealed.”

“Now that’s unfair.”

“It is not!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It gets too much…”

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

“Birds of a feather.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Rosie.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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

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

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

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

“Why don’t you start it?”

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

“Do you think we should head back?”

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

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

“I hope we will, Rosie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It can’t be that good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are quite a man, Robert Rosenthal.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmmm, good morning.”

“It is indeed.”

“You stayed.”

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

“What was that for?”

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

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

“Rosie…”

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

“What are you feeling like?”

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

“Fine, come on.”

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

“Lucy… I-”

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

“You- you? You love me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to get changed, Rosie.”

“Yeah?”

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

“I wouldn’t be complaining.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to, now come.”

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

Dear Rosie,

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

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

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

All my love,

Lucy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rosie, I- I don’t know what to say.”

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

“But you’re leaving, Rosie.”

“I’ll come back.”

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

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

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

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

“Promise me you’ll write.”

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

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

The train whistle got louder and louder, making the urgency of the kiss increase. It felt like a goodbye kiss. Lucy hoped she would get to experience it again but she also knew this might be the last time, so she memorized the pressure and love that seemed to be behind Rosie’s actions. They finally pulled apart, reluctantly, when the train slowed into the station.

“Goodbye, Lucy Everett. Don’t cry, my darling. I’ll always be here. In our memories and in the love you know I hold for you.” Rosie muttered, Lucy stared deep into his eyes and nodded.

“Goodbye, Rosie. I love you so so much, now go.” Rosie smiled sadly and then pulled away from her. Lucy watched as her dear Major stepped onto the train and turned to wave at her and blow her a kiss one last time. She smiled as tears ran down her cheeks and waved back, making her remember that first wave he had sent her all those days ago.

Rosie was back on the train, except this time it wasn’t boiling hot and he was feeling the deep pangs of an aching heart. He missed her so much already and it had only been two hours. He would be arriving in London soon where he would have to change trains to get back to base, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except stare at the piece of paper in his hands. He hadn’t opened it yet but he kept stroking the paper as if it would magically make Lucy appear in front of him.

He wanted desperately to ask the train to go back around, to abandon his life so he could run off into the sunset with his sweetheart but he had a job to do. A job which would keep her safe. So he spent the entire time on the train and then the jeep back to base thinking about Lucy’s silky curls and her ringing laughter.

Even Crosby seemed to notice something was up when he was quieter than usual at dinner. He tried to press him about it, but Rosie just brushed him off. Until he realized that Cros was now genuinely looking worried about him.

“Crosby, I’m fine.”

“What the hell happened during your leave that has suddenly turned you into a grouch?”

“I met someone.”

“You met someone?” Crosby tentatively asked.

“A girl.”

“You met a girl?!”

“Crosby, goddammit, quiet down.”

“Jesus, sorry. So you met a girl?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And what? I met a girl, fell in love and now I’m dealing with the fact I might never get to see her again.”

“Did you give her your address? Wait- fell in love? Rosie, you scoundrel!”

“It isn’t like that, Cros.”

“Sure. But did you?”

“Yes, I gave her my address. I’m sure she’ll write-”

“There! You see, she loves you too right?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly, you need to stop overthinking this and just allow it to happen.”

“Crosby… I just- I promised I’d come back to her.”

“Then you better do it. You’re one of the best god damned pilots I know, Rosie. If anyone could do it, you can. You’ll make it back and you’ll make gorgeous babies with this girl of yours. What’s her name anyways?”

“Lucy Everett.”

part 2 part 3 part 4

so... thoughts? queries?

also here are the moodboards i've made so far: meet the oc lucy's outfits

there will probably be an epilogue of sorts and some little drabbles/fics scattered around the timeline so let me know if you want to be added to the taglist !!

taglist: @justheretoreadthhx @callumsgirl <33

#rosie rosenthal #robert rosenthal #robert rosie rosenthal #masters of the air #mota #mota spoilers #mota fanfic #mota oc #masters of the air oc #masters of the air x oc #rosie rosenthal x oc #rosie x oc #robert rosenthal x oc #my ocs <3 #harry crosby #nate mann #maria writes

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wexhappyxfew · 16 days

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you, me, and the stars

(a/n): judy x rosie girlies, this is for you!! this is for all the ones who have never been in love, who are trying to protect the last parts of themselves in the face of others, and for the ones deserving of love!! these two represent all those awkward, newly-found emotions and feelings, that surprise even themselves, so please enjoy! :)

Judy had dwindled into down to just this; home was more of a feeling, not entirely a place.

The flak house was beautiful, an escape, somewhere to get one's mind off of the mental torment that was the God-forsaken war they all seemed stuck in.

But, it wasn't Thorpe Abbotts; with its metallic scent of air, voices and grinding machine parts echoing at all hours of the day, the marching, the footsteps, the way the air danced through the tree leaves. The flak house was quiet, save for the occasional flight path overtop. Thorpe Abbotts was loud and enough to make you feel like your brain was being knocked about inside, but it was home in a way the flak house wasn't.

The thing that made Thorpe Abbotts feel like home was especially the people. All the men in the 100th, their leaders both lost and MIA, and the women of Silver Bullets.

It was just like her home, in North Carolina. With Ma and Pa, that large house on the river, big meals to feed all six kids, making sure the lambs, chickens and cows were kept up with, that laundry was hung, crops harvested, plates and bowls washed in the river.

They didn't have much, but they had each other.

And even across the ocean they still did - in more ways than one.

Now, Judy felt them even in the women beside her. Strong and courageous, putting on their brave faces against the waging war of the world. Something her family had done ever since they'd come to America.

"The stars are so bright out here," Bessie said from Judy, their arms interlinked, sat side by side on the steps in front of the flak house, the light dripping out from the main door where cool, night air rushed in,

"I almost wish Tommy could see it." Judy looked towards her with a small smile.

"He does," Judy whispered quietly, reaching a hand forward to gently brush her hand over Bessie's calloused palm, "where ever he is right now. He sees it. Maybe not this instance, but he does." She watched Bessie smile, the corners of her lips turning upward, before she glanced over at Judy, a big grin on her face, her eyes glowing, the softest they'd been in days, the least stressed Judy had seen the navigator.

"You know, when we were kids," Bessie started, "we sat in his parents' apartment, right by one of the windows and watched the stars one night, all night practically, side by side. Not only was it my first kiss, but…he also told me he'd name a star after me. I think he named it 'Bee'….something or other." Judy giggled into Bessie's side and clasped a hand over her mouth with a gleeful smile.

"You two were meant to be," Judy whispered quietly, "everything you say, about him, about you, about the two of you together. God, you'll make the cutest babies, Bessie, I'll tell ya." Now, it was Bessie's turn to laugh and shook her head.

"You know he told me one time that if he had a daughter, he'd name her Charlotte," Bessie said, "he thought the nickname, Charlie, would be cute."

"Taste." Judy said with a laugh, nudging Bessie's side, "Charlotte McKenzie has a ring to it."

"And so does Bessie McKenzie." Bessie said back, sending the two of them into a fit of chuckles under the moving dusk. They fell quiet for a beat and then Bessie sighed and wrapped an arm around Judy's side, giving her a tight squeeze and rubbing her shoulder.

"Well, I'm heading up, going to get some rest and enjoy waking up and drinking coffee without having to hear a bunch of bullshit from Blakely," Bessie said with a chuckle, "you good out here? Staying up a bit?" Judy smiled and wrapped her arms around her sides and nodded.

"Yeah, just a bit more," Judy said, "you go though, I'll be up in a bit. And…Bessie?" Bessie watched her as she stood and sent her a smile.

"Just...give Lieutenant Bradshaw an extra hug for me," Judy said sadly, "her eyes looked like she'd been crying all night. About Captain Brady, so….incase I get in late, just do that for me, please?" Bessie smiled at her and nodded.

"You think she loves him?" Bessie asked Judy. Judy stilled.

"I don't know a whole lot about love, but I know he looks at her like she's the only woman in the room," Judy said softly, "and she gets all blushy around him, all soft and sweet. I like to think the universe doesn't just do things for the hell of it." Ripping them from each other, Judy thought to herself. Bessie grinned and then looked at her sadly.

"Try and get some rest," Bessie said, "don't stay up too late, okay? You need to keep yourself well-rested. Goodnight, honey."

"Night, Bes." Judy called after her, watching Bessie offer her a smile and then disappear inside. Judy smiled softly, looking forward again towards the oncoming darkness and comfort of nightfall, the singing birds and bugs all around and sighed.

Lieutenant Bradshaw's eyes looked sadder more often than not, but she was trying and that's all the credit a person like Annie Bradshaw needed - that she was being seen.

To be seen, was to be loved.

"Hey," Judy looked over her shoulder and was almost surprised to see Rosie Rosenthal there, coming towards her from the doorway, hands in his pant pockets, his A-2 jacket over his shoulders and a soft smile on his face, "mind if I join you?" Judy watched him for a moment - he looked so….different, a nice different. A different that made her think they weren't in war for a second.

"Of course, sir," Judy said, watching as he came forward and settled down on the step beside her where Bessie had been, "come to watch the stars?" Rosie let out a chuckle and then glanced towards her, his face bathed in blues and purples from the night, his eyes like a doe's as he watched her.

"You could say that." he said, then he grinned, nodding at her,

"How've you been?" Judy watched him, unable to contain the grin wanting to grow on her face and then chuckled lightly.

"Good," she said, and then smiled nervously, "sir, uh, good, being away from base, it's been….a breath of fresh air, I'll admit. Just, not having to get those planes going in the morning, get in the ball turret and shoot, over and over. It's nice to just….." she watched as he watched her, "be."

"Good," Rosie said, his voice light, "good, good, I'm glad. Really. You've all been putting out the last few months. I know that - Pappy's been talking Kennedy's ear off and well…."

"Collateral damage." Judy supplied and Rosie nodded with a small chuckle, looking down at his hands in his lap.

"Exactly, exactly," Rosie said and then glanced up at her, "I'm just glad the Silver Bullets crew is getting some deserved rest. All of you."

"Thank you, sir." Judy said, her voice tender, watching him in a moment of seriousness that was different than a few seconds previous.

He watched her for a moment, just taking in the feeling it seemed, the same she was allowing herself to feel in her heart. They both seemed to come to at the same time and smiled, laughs leaving both their lips as Judy shyly looked away and crossed her arms.

"I'm sorry, Judy, are you, uh, cold?" Rosie asked leaning forward a bit, and placing a hand on her shoulder, "October's never been a great month for short sleeves." Judy watched him, looking between his face, his hand and him. Short sleeves, right, she was in that right now. And freezing; he was right. How'd he know? She glanced down at her short sleeves, her right side hidden beneath his hand and then looked to him, his face full of worry and seriousness. And then she let out a shy laugh and blushed quickly and then nodded.

"A bit, but," she shook her head, "I was planning to go upstairs in a bit anyway, so, it's okay."

"Here," Rosie said quickly, shrugging himself out of his A-2 and then leaning to his side to lay it over her shoulders, "just to warm up." And warm up she did in fact do; to the point, she was blushing all over and inhaling the scent from his jacket and him beside her and suddenly very overwhelmed with his presence. Alright, so it was a stupid feeling she had been trying to hide, but it was a feeling she had never felt all too well. And in a war, she wasn't sure what to even feel. But right now, with this jacket and him beside her, she wasn't as eager to head up to bed anymore.

"Thank you," she said softly, grasping the edges and then looking at him, "I appreciate it really." Rosie watched her with that tender gaze of his again before leaning back a bit and looking up.

"You can really see the stars from here," he said, his voice a small bit of astonishment and adornment for the world above them, glowing with the life of the night, shining little orbs so far away they'd never be able to actually grasp them, "they're beautiful."

"Yeah," Judy said, her eyes traveling back up to the night sky above them, "sitting in the darkness, on the ground, staring at the stars? It's almost like home." She could feel Rosie staring now, and glanced his way. Something so harrowing, yet nostalgic in a way. A mixture of feelings lingering between them at her simple statement - thoughts of home, seemingly so far away now, a place that'd be changed in a thousand different ways by the time they did actually got home - if they got home.

"Where is home?" he asked quietly, leaning to his side to bump her shoulder. She laughed quietly.

"North Carolina." she said, glancing at him in the quiet - she could practically hear him breathing. It was so … comforting.

"A tiny town," she admitted, "nothing big, a river, a general market, a wood mill, friends here and there down the road. But it was home." Judy looked over slowly towards Rosie beside her and quirked out a smile as she saw him sitting there, grinning.

"What?" she said grinning, "Where you from?"

"Brooklyn." he said, looking at her. Judy's face hurt from smiling, but it was okay because it was Rosie.

"Brooklyn," Judy said with a soft smile, "never really been in one of those big cities."

"You'd like it," Rosie said, looking out towards the darkness, "you'd fit right in. Bright lights, the people, the music. All of it." He looked at her. Judy smiled and pulled her knees to her chest, and glanced towards him again.

"Music, huh?" she asked him and he looked at her with a smile.

"Yeah, can't sing real well, but my mom, my sisters, they're pretty good. Far better than me," he said with a nod, and then grinned, "still love music though. You can never go wrong with Artie Shaw." Judy smiled, her thoughts consumed with the idea of what a younger version of this Rosie could've been, home with his family, dancing and attempting to sing. Far away from war and fear and grief. She liked the thought of that at some point, they were all like that. Young, youthful and free.

"Did you do a lot of music and dancing before the war then?" Judy asked him quietly, with a hopeful smile, watching as he comprehended her sentence and then let out a small smile. He shook his head and then leaned forward on his bent knees.

"I was a lawyer before the war actually," Rosie said and Judy's eye widened in near amazement, "yeah, was doing that and then the war broke out. Couldn't just sit back and do nothing." His face grew serious at that last statement and then melted as he looked at her.

"What about you? What was the thing Judy Rybinski was doing before this whole thing started?" he asked, leaning forward, with genuine curiosity and she watched him before letting out a laugh and shaking her head.

"I'm afraid nothing as cool as being a lawyer," she admitted and she watched Rosie's face soften as he tilted his head towards her, "but I was 3 years removed from high school, didn't have money for college so….I worked in the local mechanics, fixing cars, boats, anything and everything. Learning what I could. Made some good money, too." Judy watched him and sighed.

"But….I always dreamed of getting to go to college, continue to learn, allow myself to grow," she said, her thoughts swimming back to that time her parents told her they didn't have enough to help get her through schooling and Judy had cried herself to sleep and then gathered herself together and gone to the mechanic to start learning some trade, "maybe get a job teaching. Maybe geography or something of that sort….I don't know. One day, that's the goal." Rosie stayed watching her, his eyes holding her gaze as she looked at him.

"You should go for it," Rosie told her, "when the war is over, I mean. You'd be a great teacher, great with kids, getting to teach, you just…." Rosie cut himself off for a moment and then smiled at her, suddenly looking more shy and unsure of himself than in recent minutes. Judy watched him, her cheeks warming slightly at his encouragement and genuine thought. It made her stomach twist pleasingly. Rosie let out a nervous laugh and then looked at her, crossing his arms and leaning against his upbent knees.

"You're just someone I like being around," Rosie admitted quickly, running a hand behind his neck and then glancing at her, "and I think you'd be someone good at teaching kids. And being a teacher so….I think you should go for it." Judy was watching him, her cheeks all crimson and her heart racing and for a moment, she caught his gaze and she saw things that made her heart race faster.

Rosie Rosenthal was equally someone she liked being around, but the thought of telling him that made her sweaty and panicky and she figured she'd embarrass herself, so instead, she blushed further and smiled.

"Thank you, sir," she said quietly, and then let out a small laugh, "sorry, it's just….I haven't really told many people that, so…it just means a lot - the support I mean." Rosie smiled at her and nodded.

"You deserve good things after this war, Judy," Rosie said and then swallowed, "all of us do." Judy watched him, this urge to reach out and brush her palm against his cheek inviting her closer, a wish to curl up beside him and let the stars stare down at them, the need for human touch, to be looked at and loved.

By Rosie.

"You too, sir," she said quietly, her smile soft, "only the best." This staring, these lingering glances, they seemed to be whatever they couldn't say and just that look in his eyes made her blush further. Judy tried to control her racing heart, and her breath, and then cleared her throat.

"I think I'll be heading up now," Judy said, and pressed her palms against her cheeks and then sighed and looked to him, "Bessie said she'd braid my hair and I don't want to keep her up."

"Of course," Rosie said, standing to his feet and then offering his own hand towards her, which she took rather quickly, and then stood there, staring up at him like a goof, "try and get some rest tonight, alright?"

"You too," she said, and then chuckled, "sorry, Lieutenant Bradshaw said she couldn't sleep last night and it ended up being the two of you down here, with Doc, unable to fall asleep, just talking and stuff. So….yeah, just, you too, sir." Rosie laughed at her words and then schooled his facial expressions again.

"Thanks, Judy."

Staring at him, she couldn't constrain what she felt and stood on her tiptoes, before placing a small kiss to his cheek, and then turned and walked away, as fast as her feet could carry her and up the stairs, towards the room she was sharing with Bessie. Her mind raced, her thoughts knocking at the edges of her brain as she hurried in, shut the door, and let out a sigh, before turning to the two beds, where Bessie was sat up in one, reading a book and staring at her, confused.

"Since when did you get a jacket….like that?" Bessie said, raising a brow, "And that, large?" Judy blushed and then tried to speak and choked on her air a bit before clearing herself up.

"It's just Lieutenant Rosenthal's," she said, stepping forward and settling on the side of her bed to take her shoes off, "he saw me outside, gave it to me because he said I looked cold."

"Judith Rybinski," Bessie, sitting up and then practically launching out of the bed to sit beside her, "you're blushing like a loon! What happened?" Judy looked at Bessie, her heart pounding, her thoughts racing, emotions running high in far too many wacky ways. Bessie watched her excitedly, but then slowly let her face fall and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"I think he's just being nice," Judy whispered quietly and then shook her head, "and then I gave him a kiss on the cheek because I wasn't thinking-"

"-a kiss? On the cheek?"

"Yes, yes, a kiss on the cheek, it was stupid, he was just trying to be nice-"

"Giving you his jacket in this cold is never just him being nice, Judy-"

"It's a part of it-"

"But not all of it!" Bessie said and looked at her, and smirked, "He probably wants to you know….get to know you more." Judy stared at her and then let her shoulders fall and shook her head.

"No….I don't think so," Judy said and then crossed her arms and bit back her lip, "and plus, did you know he was a lawyer before the war? Bes, he's probably, I don't know, someone from some sort of money to do that sort of thing, ya know? My family comes from people who've lived on the streets, we showered once a week as kids. What am I thinking?" Judy ran her hands over her face and sighed, before squeezing her eyes shut.

"It's stupid," Judy said quietly, "it's just a stupid crush, it'll go away. He's just being nice, and I latched onto that because a nice guy, is a nice guy. But that's it. And….it's fine. I'll be fine." She grew quiet and watched as Bessie stared at her, eyes full of that lingering worry.

"It's not a stupid crush, alright?" Bessie told her, "You're allowed to feel that and if someone's ever told you otherwise, they're the stupid ones. He clearly is someone who is interested, too, Judy. Don't discredit that about yourself. You're one of the sweetest peaches I've ever met. And someone like that? You deserve that." Judy looked over at Bessie and then offered a small smile.

"Thank you, Bessie," Judy said, leaning to her side to pull Bessie into a hug, "you're too nice to me." Bessie chuckled into the hug and patted her back.

"You deserve it, Judy." Bessie said, "A whole lot of things, but sweetness is one of the many."

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softspeirs · 2 months

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The Major and the Nurse (1): Rosie Rosenthal x OC

A/N: Rosie/OC… literally couldn’t resist. I was torn between this OC and a Red Cross OC from the flak house, but I think I wanted someone who would see him during all the hard parts, not just for a week when he’s Suffering. Spoilers for eps 5 and 6 of MoTA.

one - adjustment period.

Grace watches warily as the crew approaches on the jeep - she’s not sure what she expected… for them to be jubilant and laughing, looking refreshed and ready for action? Nervous, scared, resigned… some combination of the two?

Her eyes land on Rosie, as they’re prone to do. He seems calm. That’s not a surprise, but the glimpse of something — fear? hesitation? — in his eyes is.

Helen, standing on her left, shifts her weight, her posture the picture of worry and sadness.

“Try to pull yourself upright,” Grace says quietly.

"I'm trying--" Helen says, her voice dull. To her credit, she flashes a smile as the guys get closer, her frown softening.

"Ladies," Rosie says, fingers on the brim of his hat. "What's the welcome wagon for?"

"Coffee." Helen says, "Just brewed."

He smiles thankfully at her, but his eyes go back to Grace's. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, Lieutenant Fleming--"

"Bearer of semi-bad news, I'm afraid." Grace says, ignoring the way her heart picks up a little at his half smile. She rushes to finish before she can see his face transform - he can't afford any more bad news. "Doc wants to see everyone, just a quick chat. After that there's food in the mess."

He nods. "What's one more doctor?" He mutters. She suspects she wasn't supposed to hear that. Then, louder, "You heard her, gents. Doctor's orders."

They grumble a little, but head into the infirmary behind Grace and Helen, taking a cup of coffee each as they go. Helen follows behind, empty tray tucked under her arm. She looks back at Grace, but Rosie is lingering behind, twisting the brim of his cap in his hands, and Grace can't bring herself to leave him out here alone.

She waves Helen on, telling her she'll catch up in a minute.

“Captain?”

He starts, like he forgot she was there. He also looks like he’s forgotten about his promotion. And that’s the thing with flying — a promotion isn’t always wanted. Deserved, certainly. But it often comes at the expense of other pilots, and it’s always a tough pill to swallow. “How’s it been? How’s— everyone?” He asks her. His face is so earnest. It makes her throat tight.

“As well as we can be, Captain. Most of the replacements are here.” She hesitates before continuing. She’s been here right along, with the Red Cross girls and the doctor and the other nurses. But just because she’s been here as long as everyone else doesn’t mean she understands what the flight crews have gone through. “How was your week off?”

“Too long.” He says, no hesitation. His smile is small, wry, a barely-there upturn of his lips. “I wanted to get back.”

“And you’re alright?” The question comes out almost without her permission. They don’t even know each other that well - she’s patched up a few of his scrapes and bruises and they’ve made idle conversation as he checked on some of his crew that ended up in the infirmary, but this is bordering on too casual.

But she’d argued with him, the day before he went on leave. She’d been too casual then, too, and so had he, both of them lost in the emotions of the Munster mission.

It feels a little awkward now, but she does her best to press on.

She can’t help but worry about him. She admires him, at the heart of it. The way he kept his men together through it all, the way he always has a kind word and a joke for anyone who needs it.

She just hopes he’d say so if he’s the one who needs it, this time.

“I’m as good as I can be, Lieutenant.” He replies.

“Grace.” She reminds him softly. “It’s— you don’t have to call me Lieutenant.”

“Grace, then.” He echos. “I’m okay. Have to be. For them.”

“I hope—“ she pauses, looking down at her shoes. “Forgive me sir, but I hope you know that we’re all here for you. What you went through—“

“I know.” He interrupts her, not unkindly. “You think we haven’t seen the way you’ve been there for us? Even when you thought we didn’t notice?” He shakes his head. “You write our letters when our hands shake, and get us extra blankets, and tell us it’s going to be okay when it’s—“ He stops himself, shaking his head.

When his eyes meet hers, they’re so soft she can barely stand it. This is dangerous, what this conversation is turning into, but she’s also relieved to hear that what she’s been doing besides being a nurse and keeping them alive has made a difference.

“I appreciate it more than I can put into words, Grace.” His voice is rough.

There’s a long moment of prolonged eye contact. Her senses are screaming, danger, danger! But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t look away.

“You just keep yourself and those boys alive, Captain.” She says, her voice thick. “For the rest of us.”

He salutes, a jaunty thing that lightens the mood. “Yes ma’am.”

She laughs, and he grins at her in response. “Go on, you have to meet with the Doctor too. Just standard procedure.”

He hums. “Heard a lot of that the last week.” He takes a few steps away and then stops, “Grace?” His face is suddenly boyish, shy. “You’d better call me Rosie. Or at least by my first name.”

It feels right — she’s given up calling anyone else by their rank anymore. They’ve been through too much for that. The new guys will be an adjustment - she’s not sure she can manage getting attached to any of them. Because it’s inevitable, what happens after.

But the line has already been crossed with this man, looking at her in the fading sunlight.

“You got it, Rosie.”

His answering smile stays with her until the next day, long after the roar of B-17s fades into the distance.

#rosie rosenthal x oc #masters of the air fic #mota fanfiction #i am…. going crazy???!#he’s got a hold on me guys it can’t be ignored anymore #please welcome grace fleming #softspeirs mota fanfiction #oc: grace fleming

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liebgottsjumpwings · 1 month

Text

AUGUST AFTERNOON | FAYE FISCHER | MASTERS OF THE AIR

Summary: Faye Fischer and her newly acquired friend Ken Lemmons spend a sunny afternoon at Thorpe Abbotts, Faye thinks about the past few years and is then (not so) rudely interrupted by a certain curly haired pilot. Who had managed to make her blush several times some days ago.

Warnings: general war violence, implied minor (and not canon) character death.

Word count: a bit over 2500

Note: this was meant to be a little less than 1k word blurb, turned into way more. I hope it isn't too boring as most of it delves into Faye's experiences before the mota canon. That is also because I use my ocs to study certain historical events, so this really is just self indulgence. Please pretty please let me know what you think of it! (This fic is also posted on AO3)

AUGUST 21, 1943, 16:32

“What kind of name is ‘Just-a-Snappin’ even?” Faye Fischer wondered out loud, only half expecting an answer from the man in front of her as she came to sit up from her lying position in the grass. She squinted, just about able to make out the text on the B-17 Ken Lemmons was working on. Her squint disappeared as he came into her sight, blocking the warm ray of sunshine she had been enjoying moments prior, her eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “You’re gonna have to ask Blakely that one,” answered the curly haired man standing in her sun. Looking at him, she wondered why he would hide those curls under that beanie. Probably so all that working grease wouldn’t get into it.

Faye shrugged, letting herself fall back into the grass. “Whenever I ask Blakely a question, the man answers with a goddamn riddle,” she let the end of her sentence continue into a sigh. Ken just laughed, his hands firm on his hips. The sun made the edge of his curls shine, almost like an aureole. Visually, him standing in her sun wasn’t so bad, it looked quite pretty. Her skin was starting to miss the warmth of the sun rays, though. Faye’s fingertips tapped on the cap of her camera lens, the Contax II had been laying on her stomach, under one of Ken’s work rags, to shield it from the sun. “Keep standing like that,” Faye ordered him as she removed the cap from the lens, turning on her camera.

“Aren’t you only supposed to use that for… you know… work purposes?” she heard him ask as she fiddled with the exposure settings. A scoff escaped past her lips as she lined up the viewfinder with her left eye. “Shut up, they made me pay for my own film rolls when I arrived in England, so they’re mine technically anyway” Faye deadpanned in response, snapping a photo of Ken. “Besides,” she continued, putting her camera back under the rag again, letting her head fall back into the grass, “don’t you think the photo I just took wouldn’t go over well with all those war bond leaflets?” She held up her hands, reading an imaginary leaflet “Purchase a war bond so our curly haired cuties can maintain our bomber planes!” she sarcastically called out. It earned a belly-laugh from Ken, who then turned around, readying himself to get back to his maintenance work as he continued laughing, “I hope to God not.” Faye smiled in response, “Yeah, well, I’ve taken more leisure photos on this camera than the OSS would be comfortable knowing. It is only fair because nearly all film rolls were mine anyway,” she trailed off, closing her eyes again as the warm August sun blanketed her.

The warmth took her back to August, nearly three years back, 1940. To the emerging hills behind Mulhouse, in the occupied region of the Alsace in France. Back then, she too had snapped a photo that the OSS would turn their noses up at. She couldn’t help it, though, the sleepy little cottage the, back then, above ground resistance she was attached to used as their base of operations was too pretty against the sunny hills. Plus, the whole rule against taking photos that do not directly aid the war effort was bullshit anyway. They increased her morale, no? Surely a heightened sense of morale would aid the war effort. Just like her friend, and resistance member Isidore was aiding the war effort by developing the photos Faye had taken recently. His girlfriend, Julienne, a distant cousin of Faye’s neighbors back in Louisiana, the Klotz family, laid next to her in the grass, yelling at her sweetheart to stop working so hard and join them in the warm sum. She still remembered the minty smell of the Ground Ivy that tickled against her cheeks in the field near the cottage as she watched Isidore exit the cottage, some of the successfully developed photos under his arm, he dropped them above the two women. The photographs whirled softly down onto them, like those propaganda leaflets that had recently been dropping from planes over the region. The association made her chuckle. She much preferred these photographs over those leaflets.

Oh, how she longed back to be in that sleepy little field just behind Mulhouse. Unknowing and indifferent to what was about to wash over her. Over her dear friends. Over her distant relatives, up north in Sélestat. How she wished to gain that sense of unknowing and indifference once more. The fleeting feeling of walking back home from the shul on those warm August evenings, taking the train from Mulhouse towards Sélestat, being greeted by her grandmother’s second brother, the one who stayed behind in Alsace. Being taken in to his family, learning about their extensive history and connection to this land. It made her feel proud, like her family here. All of that despite the impending feeling of calamity. That feeling grew more and more with each news item about the Germans inching closer. Forcing themselves back into the territory they’ve claimed as theirs for eras. This time, it came paired with a terrifying venom against a group of people so deeply rooted in this region.

After the annexation of the Alsace into Nazi-Germany, the resistance group Faye had been attached to by the OSS was forced to go underground. Her work, instead of reporting back to the OSS on current events in the border region between France and Germany, became a high-risk operation that aided the Alsatian resistance in its activities against the Nazi occupier. When it happened, the OSS had forbidden her to associate publicly with her family and the community she had built up. They deemed it ‘too riskful’. And because Faye had no choice, she listened to those orders. And just like that, her growing connection with her ancestral home region, her family, the core of her very identity was snapped away. Just as quick as it had flourished. She watched the treatment of her people become more and more dire every day. She watched and she could do nothing but watch. Nothing outward anyway. In secret, she was doing more than she ever had done. Risking everything to make it harder for the Nazis to spread their hatred and evil. In return, she got the gnarly gift of having to distance herself from the recently cultivating bond with her family that lived halfway across the world from her.

Yes, she still had Isidore, Julienne and the rest of their group. Though, as they were forced to become underground, a painful strain started to form on their friendship. Understandably so, tensions were high, risks were always there and the imminent feeling of doom never stopped looming over the group.

Which ended up being for good reason. Come the early February days of 1943, Faye found herself with her left cheek pressed into the cold ground where the minty Ground Ivy once grew. The barrel of a Karabiner 98A straight against her right cheek. She still wasn’t sure who gave up their activities to the SS. She wasn’t sure if she cared enough by then either way. Or now, for that matter. In the two and a half years that spanned from that first summer in Alsace to February of 1943, Faye had grown disillusioned to the point that she wasn’t even sure if she cared about living, or dying. Maybe it was for the better that death seemed so close. That it came to her in the form of a German rifle.

That was until she remembered why her family decided to migrate to the United States. Back in the late 19th century, the Jews of the Alsace were already facing hardships. And it was those hardships that made her grandparents decide that from there on out, their family line would not suffer under those hardships anymore. So they set sail to Louisiana, because their children, and their children, and their children (and so on), deserved a life of flourishing. So it was there, February 1943, with the cold barrel of a Karabiner 98A pressed to her face, that Faye decided that she would honor that wish. She would not die at the hands of those who wished her dead.

She wasn’t sure how, but she ran, she ran until her feet gave out and Isidore made them duck into a dense shrub. His face stained with dirt, much like hers. And through the dirt on his face, tears traced their paths. Then it dawned on her that Julienne hadn’t made it out with them. Faye hoped with everything she had in her dear friend wasn’t left out, alone in that cold field. But there wasn’t much time for hoping. They had to make it to safety. To a place where they couldn’t be reached by those who were looking for them.

Switzerland. Within a few days of frantic fleeing, both of them somehow made it to Basel, just over the border. Isidore’s previously tear-filled eyes had turned empty by then. And Faye feared for him. She feared for everyone they had to leave behind. The fear didn’t leave her when she walked away from the hospital she had helped Isidore to, so his wounds could be looked at. Not caring much for her own, and after the OSS had been made aware of her whereabouts, they had arranged a route to England for her. To ‘escape’ the risk she found herself in, according to the OSS. She still scoffs at the mention of ‘risk’, the OSS would never fully know. And so, after a goodbye ‘for now’ and a promise to keep in touch, she departed for the train station of Basel, on towards Bern, and from there, hopefully England. She watched the fields roll by, they were barren, empty of life. She tried to not let it remind her of Julienne too much. Hoping that her friend had somehow made it to safety, like her sweetheart and Faye.

Her memories were disturbed by the warm sun once again being taken away from her. This time, it wasn’t because a certain crew chief by the name of Ken Lemmons was standing in between her and her blanket of warmth, it was because Faye hadn’t noticed the time pass by and the sun having moved behind the officer’s buildings on the air base. She let out a groan at the feeling of her back cracking as she sat up, her camera falling into her lap. Slowly opening her eyes, to her surprise, ‘Just-a-Snappin’ had been exchanged for a different airplane. Though, her eyes were too blurry from the sun shining onto them, to make out the name. These damn pilots and their airplane names.

What she did make out was Ken and what seemed to be a pilot, standing by the plane as Ken pointed out several things on the wing. The pilot nodding, seemingly intently listening to Ken. Faye, after rubbing her eyes intensely, was able to make out more of the scene in front of her. Her sight darted towards the plane again, reading. ‘Rosie's Riveters,’ she mouthed the words. Way better name for a plane than whatever Blakely was thinking with his one, Faye thought. Her gaze moved over to Ken and the still unknown pilot again. Squinting, she could make out the brown curls, kept small and neatly arranged on top of his head. The 100th and their tendency to hide their gorgeous curls irrationally annoyed Faye to no end. She eternally cursed Ken for hiding them behind his beanie, too. She looked back to the nose of the plane, ‘Rosie’s Riveters.’ Oh. Robert Rosenthal. The man that had made her blush the other night without even knowing he had. Robert Rosenthal had arrived at Thorpe Abbotts some two weeks after Faye herself did. She had been sitting with Helen and the other women as she watched him come into the officers’ club, his feet carrying him, dancing towards his crewmates. It was his little twist and the way his jacket moved in the air flow created by it; itt had been the first time she smiled that day. And Helen noticed. Sending Faye a teasing look as she dug the nose of her shoe into Faye’s shin. The action made Faye’s cheeks turn bright red, sinking deeper into her seat, disappearing into the shadow of the curved wall as she let out a soft, intoxicated giggle.

It wasn’t much later, after Nash had successfully achieved a dance from Helen, that Rosenthal’s eyes locked with Faye’s. The same red from before creeping up from her throat to her cheeks as she gave him a shy smile. His returning smile was beaming, like a direct ray of sunlight across the room. She would receive a few more of such smiles from him throughout the night.

Now, with his pilot’s hat snug under his arm, Faye could see him smile at Ken, a thankful smile. And who wouldn’t be thankful for Ken Lemmons. The man worked tirelessly to send them up safely into the air. But, oh she was sure it was Robert Rosenthal standing there, alright. Yeah, that smile, of which she had been on the receiving end several times now, she recognized it. The familiar, uneasy yet welcomed feeling creeped up in her stomach again. She could feel the flush in her throat. Combined with the hours of direct sunlight she had received over the afternoon, remembering their shared looks made her slightly lightheaded as she rose to her feet. Hoping to quietly leave, as to not gain the perception of both men standing some feet away from her.

Mission unsuccessful, though, damn it. “Fish!” she heard Ken call her. Her arms dropped beside her body as she turned around, her camera swinging with a little delay. She caught it, so it wouldn’t hit her on her stomach. For some stupid reason, her breathing increased in frequency as she watched the two men walk over to her. She had to consciously try to not take a step backward everytime they took one forward. She tried to keep her eyes strictly on Ken.“You think that is a better name for a plane?” he asked, pointing towards the B-17. Her eyes followed his pointing, reading the text on the nose of the plane for a third time. Before she realized, she already voiced her opinion. “I think naming anything but a pet or a human is a weird thing anyway,” she retorted, eyes dead set on Ken. Next to him, she heard a chuckle. “I’m actually quite proud of ‘Rosie’s Riveters’” she heard the curly haired brunette next to Ken say. There was no fighting it anymore, she had to actually look at him now. And she was sure you could compare the color of her cheeks to the apples they served in the breakfast hall, bright red. Still, like she always did, she came up with a retort; “Well, it’s better than Blakely’s, I guess,” she said, a sly, yet slightly shy smile appearing on her lips. The brunette in front of her let out a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling. It tugged at Faye’s heartstrings, “Yeah, I’ll take that.” he said. And there it was again, that goddamned smile.

#masters of the air #robert rosenthal #ken lemmons #hbo war #oc: faye #masters of the air x oc #rosie rosenthal x oc #robert rosenthal x oc #rosie rosenthal #mota #my writing

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rosiegirlie · 21 days

Text

Before You Go Performing

summary: When Billie ran away from the circus to serve as a nurse in the WAC she thought that was the end of her entertaining days. She never thought she’d be using her skills to help cheer up a flak happy John Egan, nor did she think that they’d be partly responsible for her life changing for good. // a vague 5+1 sort of deal where some intense eye contact changes everything word count: 23k a/n: I'm a woman obsessed with Rosie and this is the result ! I have more things in the works for this little universe but this is where it all starts for Rosie & Billie. It's not as historically accurate as it could be, so apologies in advance. AO3

Like most nights out with the girls Billie stuck to the walls, electing to keep to herself while the party around her raged on. She preferred the pub in town but she had to admit the officer’s club had it’s perks including more space for her to stick to herself. This was a party unlike any they’d had here on base and rightly so; it was rare a pilot got to the required twenty five missions before going home and Dye’s achievement was worth celebrating. It seemed like every possible person on base and even a couple of their neighbors showed up to join in on the affair. Even though she wasn’t feeling it herself, Billie appreciated the energy filling the air. It was a night of letting loose and living in the moment, for celebrating still being alive. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she looked onto the dance floor from her chair in the corner.

Her best friend Barbara and their fellow nurse June were on the dance floor with men Billie didn’t recognize. Replacements. Billie hadn’t been aware a new group of them had rolled in but she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. They’d been due for a while now. She scanned the room trying to pick out more men she didn’t recognize. Her eyes came back to June and her man who was all elbows and knees. It didn’t seem like he had a dancing bone in his body but June’s face was brighter, her smile wider than Billie had ever seen. At least someone was having a good night.

Billie took a deep swig of her drink. There was a time in her life where it would have been her out on the floor having the good night, trying to wrangle a dance partner. Billie was never the life of the party but at least she used to live a little. For some reason it was like her entire personality shifted when she joined up.

Lieutenant Harry Crosby walked in front of her, a drink in each hand. Seeing him brought an immediate damper to her mood and she tipped her glass back to finish the last of her beer. Crosby had been one of her victims earlier that day and she wondered how bad his arm was bruising. They had been taking blood donations from the men not on mission and Billie made a fool of herself. Again. No matter how hard she tried or practiced Billie just couldn’t get the hang finding the vein in the first go. There were probably plenty on base who wanted to change their mind on donating blood when they saw she was the one working. She didn’t hold it against anyone. Billie knew she wasn’t a good nurse. She scraped by in her training and she’d been keeping her head afloat somehow but for how much longer she didn’t know. Billie’s saving grace was her CO who did her best to schedule Billie in the mornings before and during missions, any shift so she’d be done and out of the way when it was time for the real work to start. If she was lucky she’d get to help out with setting up the coffee and donuts for the Clubmobile, but more often than not it was inventory, stocking, and keeping watch over current patients. The simple things. Maybe that was part of why she didn’t feel like herself anymore. She used to hold her own but now she was the runt of the pack. It wasn’t a fun feeling. Her work was important, she understood that. She knew that there were no small parts and that things could go wrong if she didn’t take her work seriously. It was just that Billie missed having fun. There was nothing fun about the world of blood and trauma.

Billie looked back at the dance floor. June was still in the arms of her fella, but Barbara was missing. Billie looked around and after a moment found Barbara by the edge of the dance floor practically directly across from her. It looked like she was convincing Lieutenant James Douglass to dance with her. It was an argument the two had almost every time they went out. Routine said Douglass would give in and dance with Barbara but not after she promised a kiss. Billie wondered when they pair would finally commit to something real, this game they’d been playing for months was getting old. Still, a pang of jealousy shot through Billie’s core. She wasn’t looking for anything, wasn’t looking for anyone. But maybe if she was more like other girls it would be easier to distract herself on nights like this. Luckily for Billie it was rare anyone gave her second glance.

The couple to her right had started curling in on each other and Billie figured they were about five minutes away from full on going at it there in public. To give them some privacy Billie decided to get another drink. She knew she shouldn’t but what else was she supposed to do with herself? Besides, it was time to switch back from beer to something harder. If she was going to wallow she might as well be properly smashed to set the mood. She abandoned her seat and wormed her way through the crowd to the bar.

The only empty spot it seemed was over next to Major John Egan and Billie’s stomach flipped with nerves. Major Egan, or Bucky as she knew he preferred to be called, was a commanding presence. He reminded her of one of her old friends, Charles. Both were charismatic ladies men with a long string of scorned lovers. Both loud and rambunctious, loving to be in the center of attention. Total showoffs. But both also had the skills to match their bravado so Billie was never too bothered by the inevitable antics that followed them around. Her need for a drink pushed her forward to slide into the empty space, pushing through her nerves of embarrassing herself in front of Bucky. Luckily as soon as the thought popped into her head she dismissed it. Even if she did something silly chances were he wasn’t going to remember. And if she kept up her drinking pace she wouldn’t remember either. A win win scenario.

“What’ll you have, ma’am?” The bartender asked.

“Two whiskeys, please. Thanks” She drummed her fingers along the counter while she waited for her drinks. As soon as the bartender set the drinks down in front of her Billie grabbed one and slammed the it back in one go.

Billie reveled in the way it burned down through her throat. It was nice to feel something. Her brother had been the one to introduce her to whiskey, way back when they were kids. He’d busted into their uncle’s stash and they managed to finish the bottle by the time they’d been caught back behind the horse stalls. Eddie swore they wouldn’t have gotten caught had Billie not gotten sick, startling one of the horses and waking up the lot of them. Their mother had been furious and took no mercy out on them by still making them go to practice bright and early the next morning. The painful practice was worth the memory now that Billie was swallowing her whiskey. The burn hadn’t gotten better over all these years which was something she was grateful for now. She needed it to still feel the same. Billie let out a cough and sucked back a hiss. It’d be a good idea go take it a bit slower with the second glass, just to be safe. She coughed again.

“You going to be okay there, little lady?” Bucky had turned to look at her.

“I’m fine.” she smiled reassuringly up at him. “Went down the wrong pipe is all.”

“Happens to the best of us.” Bucky nodded and turned back to face the back of the bar.

Billie leaned her elbows against the counter and pulled her glass closer to her. She took a sip and set it back down on the counter, taking the napkin from underneath with her free hand. Her fingers needed something to mess with. She was starting to feel a bit too much of everything. All around her people were living it up. They were dancing, laughing, smoking and drinking and whatever other vice they needed to stay sane. She wished she could be one of them.

Now that she started thinking about her brother she couldn’t stop. So much for the party being a distraction from the letter she’d gotten that afternoon. Barbara and June had sworn the festivities would take her mind off of it but here she was. Realistically she wasn’t all that surprised that Eddie had signed up. What did hurt was that he waited this long to tell her. He was already in training to be a paratrooper, there was nothing she could do to talk him out of it. Billie couldn’t help but laugh to herself thinking about how he really was always copying her. It had been hard to leave him when she practically ran away from home, one of the hardest things she had ever done. There were some moments when she couldn’t believe she’d actually done it. She should have known that he would want to follow in her footsteps. A mix of emotions filled her when she thought about her brother. She was so proud of him she felt like she could combust and yet she didn’t think she had ever been as scared as she was thinking about him in the thick of it. Billie grimaced to herself and looked down at where she’d been ripping the napkin into little strips. Dye making it to twenty five missions was an incredible thing, Billie really was happy for him. It was just awful that they were there making such a big deal of the one success out of the hundreds they’ve lost. She thought of her brother’s odds and her stomach turned, bile rising up her throat. She coughed again and took another sip of her whiskey to chase the bile down.

Billie’s little spiral was interrupted by Bucky saying out of nowhere, “I’d kill for something to happen.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Billie looked around to see if Bucky was really talking to her. She couldn’t remember who she saw on his other side, so maybe the comment was directed at them. Either that or talking to himself she assumed and turned her attention on her whiskey. She decided if the bartender was quick to come back around she’d order another one. Just one more and then she’d switch to water. After all she did have her normal shift first thing tomorrow morning.

“When was the last time something happened, hmm? When was the last time you could feel something?” Bucky was looking at Billie when she lifted her head and she couldn’t help but blush a little when they made eye contact. But Bucky’s face looked off somehow and Billie felt herself sober up a little.

“Major? Do you…” she looked around, nervous for some reason. She really didn’t know what to make of his questions. Her training hadn’t covered this sort of thing. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy, just peachy.” Bucky turned to fully look at her now and his eyes steadied on her face. He was probably just about as drunk as Billie was. He was probably chasing off some of the same demons Billie was running from.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He shot her a look and she let out a laugh, “Silly question. Got it.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Billie. Billie James, Sir. I’m a nurse.”

Bucky nodded, “I thought I’d seen you somewhere.” She highly doubted he had ever looked at her before. No one ever really looked at her anymore. Still, she appreciated the politeness. He took a drink and sighed. He turned slightly towards the bar.

Something about how Bucky was looking unsettled Billie. She wanted to cheer him up, maybe helping him get out of himself would help her forget about her brother. What would she do if it was Charles here with her instead of Bucky? “Do you want me to go see if the band can play Blue Skies again?”

“Mighty fine of you to ask, but no need for any special requests.” Bucky took a deep drink.

She hummed in acceptance even though his answer worried her. It got quiet between them and Billie felt so uncomfortable she swore she was going to burn with it. It was her turn to take a deep drink.

“I’ve always wanted to juggle.” Bucky suddenly said.

“Excuse me?” Billie was drunk, but not drunk enough to follow along with Bucky’s train of thought. He pointed at the counter in front of her. Billie had been rolling the ripped up scraps of her drink’s napkin into little balls. She picked one up and threw it at Bucky. He swatted it away.

“I know I’m saying nonsense, can’t help it right now. I’ve seemed to have lost all filter.” Bucky gave a weak version of his normal charming smile.

“I don’t think that’s quite true, Major. Somehow I think you’re one to never really let go of control.” She found herself rolling her eyes at him as if he really was her friend Charles. She leaned forward and craned her neck to see where the bartender was. Another drink wasn’t the smartest idea but Billie was in the mood for self destruction.

Thinking about Charles and juggling had her remembering the night Charles tried to teach her a new trick while they had been on the tail end of a bender. What a pair of drunk messes the two of them had been, the night had ended with a broken window and running away from the police. “You know, Major, I can juggle.” She blurted out.

“You can juggle?” The disbelief was palpable in Bucky’s voice. He sounded just like so many of the boys she knew back home. All men seemed the same when they were doubting her, probably sounded the same to any woman. Oh, she was going to love proving him wrong.

“Of course I can juggle. I wouldn’t just lie to you when you’re looking like that.” Billie snapped, taking a tone she knew in the back of her head she shouldn’t have with someone of his status. Maybe she shouldn’t be acting like he was Charles. But Billie was too far in it to stop now.

“Looking like what?” he challenged. Already he seemed livelier.

“Like some sad little kid who needs cheering up.” Billie said simply with a smile.

“And what would you suggest? Are you offering to try to juggle for me?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow.

“I won’t have to try, I can do it if I want to.” confidence filled Billie’s voice.

Bucky laughed and tilted his head to look at Billie. “You really think you can juggle?”

“I don’t think, I know.” She wagged a finger in his face. “And I don’t like the attitude you’re taking, Major.” She really shouldn’t be talking to him like this but they were talking about juggling and she couldn’t help but get caught up in it. She had to defend her honor. “This is just one of the countless things you men think women can’t handle.”

“I didn’t say anything of the sort!”

“Sure,” Billie rolled her eyes, “but you were thinking it, weren’t you?” She nudged his arm with hers. “Just teasing. Now, I’ll need a lot of something if I’m going to do it. I mean, if its worth doing it’s worth doing right.”

“Is that so? And doing it right means juggling more balls?” Bucky waggled his eyebrows at her.

Billie smacked his arm, rolling her eyes with a groan. “Christ, Major, grow up.” she shook her head. Billie then straightened her shoulders and said, “It doesn’t have to be balls, I can juggle anything.”

“Anything is a strong claim.” There was even more doubt now in Bucky’s eyes.

“And guess what? It’s true.” Billie countered.

“Well now you have to prove it, because I just can’t seem to wrap my head around this. Pretty thing like you doing something like that.” Bucky shook his head in disbelief.

“What do my looks have to do with being able to juggle?” Billie cocked her head to the side. Then she realized that Bucky had paid her a compliment and she couldn’t help but blush. Luckily at this point of being drunk Billie’s face was normally red enough to cover her blush. This was the first time she was thankful for her drunk tell. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be on the receiving end of any advance from Bucky, but it was nice to hear someone thought she was pretty. Even if they were insulting and complimenting her at the same time.

“You just don’t seem like the type of gal who’d be able to is all.” Bucky explained simply while Billie rolled her eyes again.

“I feel insulted but I’m going to move past it.” She finished off her drink and couldn’t help but wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. Maybe it made her look more like someone who knew how to juggle. “Let’s settle on what I’m juggling first off.” Billie looked around the room.

There were so many things happening around her that Billie couldn’t help but feel comforted. She’d grown up somewhere like this, always loud and full of people letting loose. She was at home in the chaos, especially now that there’d been a challenge. She had her pride to protect, her honor to uphold.

She was eyeing the group playing darts when Bucky said, “Glasses, easy.”

Billie turned her head to look at Bucky holding up her empty rocks glass. Better that than his empty pint glass. He gestured his head at the other empty glasses bunched up in front of them on the bar. Glasses, now that was an idea. Billie picked up her glass back up and gave it a light toss. Not as bottom heavy as she thought.

She smiled up at Bucky. “Glasses are perfect. I need some sort of rag, though.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want your backwash to make me lose my grip is why.” Billie scrunched her nose in disgust.

Bucky let out a bright laugh. “Fair enough. How about clean glasses?”

“Either works.” Billie shrugged nonplussed.

“How many?”

Billie studied the glass in her hand.”How about four. Do you think I can handle four?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, lips pursed in a smirk.

“That feels like a trick question.” Billie flashed a wicked grin in response and Bucky laughed. “Okay, you’re going to juggle four glasses. Now how about we settle some stakes and make a real bet out of this whole thing. Personally, I wouldn’t mind a kiss.” He leaned in closer to Billie.

Billie had been expecting that and rolled her eyes with a smile. “When do you not want a kiss from someone? And I don’t want anything from you. Just to prove you wrong.”

“You wound me!” he playfully slapped his hand to his chest. “Come on, there must be something a pretty gal like you would want from someone like me.” He leaned an arm out to rest on the bar countertop. Billie felt herself grow hot under his stare. She suddenly understood the long line of heartbroken girls she’d watched over the last couple of months. Something about Bucky was mesmerizing. She couldn’t help but think about how easy he’d be to love.

“A pack of smokes.” She blurted out and the look of confusion that crossed Bucky’s face made her smirk. He hadn’t been expecting his subtle advance to be turned down.

“That’s a hefty ask.”

“Then you shouldn’t make silly bets.”

“Alright I’ll bite. You’re on, Billie. And now it’s too late to back out of a kiss when I win.” He winked at Billie then stood up from the bar counter. “Gather round now boys, our very own nurse Billie is going to put on a little show.” Bucky called out over the music.

“Major!” Billie snapped and lightly smacked Bucky’s arm.

She hadn’t wanted to draw that much attention to herself but after thinking about it for a moment she shrugged it off. She’d handled worse tricks in worse states. Had she really expected Bucky to keep it a quiet ordeal? There was nothing that man could do quiet. Already eyes were on her, wondering what on earth she could do to entertain them. She started to feel hot, the skin on the back of her neck itching where it rubbed against her jacket. She needed to cool down and get out of her jacket even if just for a minute. She straightened herself up from leaning against the bar.

“I’m going to get myself sorted then I’ll be over to prove you wrong, okay?” she gestured her head to the bathroom.

“We’ll see about that.” Bucky grinned at her as he gave her a nod.

By some miracle the bathroom was empty when Billie entered. Immediately she took off her jacket and began to fan herself. She needed to cool down. Billie looked at herself in the mirror and was suddenly struck by trying to picture herself from an outsider’s perspective. Small, red faced, long mousy brown hair that was starting to escape the sculpted curls the girls had worked so hard on. Barbara was going to be so sad her work was for naught. Billie itched to tie it all back but she didn’t have anything with her. But really all she could focus on was her arms. She raised her arms and flexed. There was no denying it: she was losing her muscles and she didn’t know how to feel about that.

After a lifetime of hard work she’d gone soft. Her father’s voice came into her head lamenting about how long it would take her to bounce back once she returned from the war. If she bounced back at all. It had been so long since she properly worked out. Maybe she could talk to Mae about helping her do any heavy lifting on one of her shift next time one lined up with Billie’s off time. The mechanic was always grateful for the help especially if it meant they could trade stories about growing up in the entertainment industry while they worked. Billie sobered up a bit thinking about the last time she’d fallen asleep body aching after helping Mae. She didn’t think it was possible to miss that horrible feeling of muscle exhaustion. She rotated her wrists a couple of times trying to stretch them out. She flexed her fingers. Next were her arms, first across then over her shoulder. She jumped in place a couple of times wishing she wasn’t in uniform. All she needed to do was focus.

Billie washed her hands and then briefly pressed her wet hands to her face, trying to cool herself down. It worked, or at least she told herself it did, and then her hands went to her hair. There was nothing she could do to bring order back to her hair but at least now she could tell herself she tried. Billie grabbed her jacket to put back on while staring herself down in the mirror. She could do this. It’d been a long time since she’d juggled but she knew the muscle memory would kick in. It had to after all the time she’d spent practicing as a kid. If she made a fool of herself and her dad found out he was sure to take a swing at her. He trained her better than to fail at something so simple. She shook her head to clear the thought and stretched her shoulders back while taking in a deep breath. She exhaled and made eye contact with her reflection again. Billie knew she could do this, she could prove Bucky wrong.

The door to the bathroom burst open and Barbara came barreling through. Billie was surprised it had taken this long for her best friend to find her. “What’s this I hear about Bucky challenging you to juggle? Do you really know how to juggle?”

“Of course I can juggle,” Billie popped her hip to the side and put her hands on her waist. Striking a pose she said dramatically, “it’s in my blood.”

Barbara had come over to stand next to Billie and began touching herself up, pulling a tube of lipstick out from her pocket. “Of course it’s in your blood, you carny. I forget all of the silly things you know how to do because you’re so normal.”

The comment stung but Billie knew better than to make anything of it. She knew Barbara meant well.

“Well I don’t think it’ll be that hard.” Billie flicked her hair back over her shoulder and squared her shoulders. “It’s only four glasses.”

“Four? The major is telling people five.”

Billie thought about it for a moment, “I guess at a point it just becomes a number.” She marched to the door but paused before pulling it open, her hand on the handle. “Am I about to make a fool of myself?”

Barbara shrugged. “Possibly. But not until after you impress people a little, which I know you’re going to do.” She met Billie’s eyes in the mirror. “You always do this.” Barbara finished touching up her hair and stepped back to take in more of her reflection.

“Do what?” Billie dropped her hand from the door handle.

“Pull out these ridiculous things to be good at that make everyone ooh and aww. Its unfair honestly, the fact that you’re not a miserable bitch. It would make dealing with you so much easier.” Barbara said.

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take that.” Billie couldn’t help but grimace.

Barbara laughed. “It was supposed to be a compliment. I was trying to say you’re nice and good at things not a lot of people are good at which is fun. I like being your friend.”

Billie swooned and pulled Barbara in for a hug. “I like being your friend too. You’re the only one who doesn’t give me grief about being a miserable nurse.”

“Oh I give you grief too, only difference is you realize I’m joking around. Besides you can’t be good at everything so who cares if you’re not the best nurse on base. Now lets go show up Major Egan with your circus skills”

When the pair came out of the bathroom Billie realized that Bucky had drawn a small crowd in the back corner of the room. A wave of nausea rolled through her and she let out a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes. And just like that she felt more at home than she had in months. She never would have guessed this would do the trick.

“Are you okay?” Barbara was at her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She had no choice but to be fine. Her personal and family pride was on the line.

A feeling started making itself known deep in Billie, something she hadn’t felt for a long while. It was serious now that the pre-show jitters were kicking in. A laugh threatened to bubble up out of Billie and she had to clench her jaw to keep the sound in. All of these thousands of miles away from home and here she was pulling the same tricks. Billie never thought she’d be doing this here, that any of her circus skills could come in handy in the real world. The whiskey was softening the worst of her nerves so Billie didn’t waver as she marched forward and pushed her way through the crowd.

“There she is!” Bucky was sitting at a table with five empty rocks glasses next to him.

“Do we need to revise the stakes, Major? You’re not trying to change the bet on me are you?” She grabbed a glass off the table and tried her best to ignore the feeling of everyone’s eyes on her. It would go away, the prickling feeling as they stared her down. It always went away she just had to push through the tension. At least here she was fully clothed and her feet were steady on solid ground. Far steadier than all of the drinks she had would suggest.

“A number is a number, really.” Bucky reasoned. “What’s one extra? Plus five has a better ring to it wouldn’t you say?”

Billie laughed at that, “I suppose you’re right, Major.”

“Are you going to turn around so we can watch?” A voice called out from behind her. Lieutenant Douglass if she was to guess, it sounded like his sort of snark. It also sounded like someone had elbowed him in the side. She smiled thinking it was probably Barbara.

Billie turned on her heels and dipped into a deep curtsy towards the people gathered around her. Already she was back into performing. “Give us just a moment, gentlemen. We’re settling up accounts here. The show’ll begin in just a tick.” She turned back around to face Bucky. “So here’s how this is going to work. I can’t do this by myself so you’re going to have to help me. You’re going to need to throw me the last two glasses.”

“You want me to throw you a glass while juggling? Twice? You trust me to do that?”

“You started this whole thing, might as well get involved.” Billie said. “Besides, there’s a better chance at avoiding disaster this way than if I started with all five on my own. I’m not doing that with things I’ve never juggled before.”

Bucky’s face was twisted in concentration. Billie wondered if he was going to call the whole thing off. If he tried she was going to suggest she juggle just three glasses instead. She wasn’t leaving until she at least somewhat proved her talents. Billie wanted to see if she could make Bucky smile.

She tossed the glass in her hand again, higher this time. “I suppose there is a danger aspect, I will give you that. But remember, I’m a nurse if anything goes wrong.”

Bucky chuckled. “Rumor is—”

“Fine.” Billie raised her hand to cut him off. “I’m not the only nurse here tonight. Come on, you’re not flying tomorrow so you’ll have some time to heal before you have to go up again. We can push the table out of the way and I’ll stand in the corner so you won’t be throwing in the direction of everyone.”

“You could still get hurt.”

Billie hadn’t been expecting this change of heart. The was definitely something up with Bucky, normally he was all about encouraging the reckless behavior. The one leading the charge. He wasn’t usually the one giving the waring speeches. Something had to be wrong.

Billie waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve dealt with worse, trust me. Plus, I know how to handle myself when something goes wrong. This isn’t my first rodeo, Major.” She knew she shouldn’t push but she couldn’t help but add, “Come on, don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet. That’s not like you. Scared I’m going to prove you wrong? Why not live a little?” She couldn’t help but think about how she used to tease her brother and she poked Bucky in the shoulder as if he was Eddie.

Bucky shook his head but then stood up. He didn’t respond to Billie instead calling, “Hey, Buck! Come help me move this table.”

Billie grabbed a second glass from the table and then stepped out of the way while the two moved the table. She heard Buck grumbling something about how this was a bad idea but Billie decided to ignore him. Her drunk logic and seeing Bucky’s clearly fake smile had her coming around to thinking this was an excellent idea. So Billie turned to face the crowd smiling wide.

“Now is everyone ready for a show? Has anyone else placed any bets on me tonight?” She held the three glasses in one hand and lifted the other to her ear, waiting for someone’s answer.

“It’d be rude to say, ma’am” called out Captain Everett Blakely.

“It’d be rude to not split the winnings!” Billie countered with a wink.

“You’re really going to do it?” Douglass asked.

“We’ll see. Depends on if Major Egan can handle the pass.”

“Oh I’ll make it just fine just you watch.” Bucky said. “Now where do you want me.”

Billie glanced around at the space. She gestured to most of it, “I’m probably going to end up traveling a bit, so just stay on the edge of the circle somewhere. I’ll tell you when I’m ready. I can handle most passes just try not to go too high or too low.”

“Will it be obvious what’s too high or low?” He looked nervous again. It unsettled her.

“Don’t worry about it, forget I said anything. It’ll all be fine and you’ll be down a pack of smokes in just a couple of minutes.” that made him laugh and Billie smiled. Success. But she could do better.

Billie made her way to the center of the space Buck and Bucky had cleared. She let herself picture dropping a glass in the first round, in the second. Before she even needed Bucky to throw her one. What was really the worst that could happen? What happened here didn’t need to come home with her, she reasoned with herself. Realistically she could just not tell anyone about what happened. Her dad didn’t have to know. She could suffer through the embarrassment during the war, there were beyond worse crosses to bear. It was going to be fine. Billie took a deep breath then smiled. Showtime.

Just like Billie thought and hoped, her muscle memory took over as soon as she threw the first glass into the air. She heard gasps around her as she started getting into the feel of it and she smiled wider in response. Bucky wasn’t the only one who had doubted Billie could juggle. It always felt good to take people by surprise so maybe it was good she barely told anyone about her circus life. They didn’t have enough good surprises there on base. She kept her eyes trained on the glasses but it was hard to bite back the laugh at the men’s reaction. This was nothing. If only she had her balls with her, then she’d really be able to put on a show for them.

It felt so nice to slip back into the rhythm of juggling that Billie didn’t even mind her arms were starting to burn. She couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. The adrenaline coursing through her was like she was back under the big top. Christ, she has missed this. She had no idea she would have missed this that much. After a minute or so Billie felt comfortable enough for the next glass.

“Alright, Major. You ready?” Billie called out, eyes not leaving the glasses going round and round.

“When you are.” Bucky answered.

Billie moved so that she was facing Bucky. “Hit me.”

“Now I don’t think—”

“You know what I mean. Stop being a smartass.” Laughter came from the crowd.

“Here you go.” Bucky tossed the glass perfectly and Billie added it to her rotation with ease.

Her arms were really burning but she didn’t mind, not with how they were clapping for her. This was one of her favorite feelings in the world, or as close as she could get without being near a trapeze swing. The reactions from an audience tended to be food for a performer’s soul and Billie had long been starving. Out of her whole circus family Billie was the only one not motivated by those reactions. Still, she could get hungry. There was something inherent in her, something deep that made her come alive when she performed. Barbara was right, it didn’t matter if she wasn’t the best nurse at Thorpe Abbotts because there were other things she could do. Wasn’t job supposed to be helping the airmen? She spared a glance at Bucky and was thrilled to see a genuine smile stretched across his face. It seemed he’d done a complete 180 degree turn from earlier in the evening. It was such a gift to be able to affect someone’s mood like that. This was why she loved what she could do.

“I would like to state for the record that I did win the original bet.” Billie called out.

“Does that mean you want to quit?” Bucky challenged.

“Not a chance, Major. Not a chance.” Billie quipped.

“Eyes up then.” Bucky said.

It was only her years of training that saved Billie from disaster when Bucky threw tossed the final glass at her. She nearly stumbled but quickly got her footing steady. “I didn’t tell you I was ready for that!” she called out, beyond annoyed. That could have gone seriously wrong and she didn’t want to be the one to ruin the mood of the party.

“Seems like you handled it just fine.” Bucky dismissed Billie’s frustration and gave a clap as he watched her successfully juggle the five glasses. He really was back to his normal self.

Billie gave into another laugh but then suddenly sobered. She hadn’t been thinking this through at all. She’d never juggled glasses like this before, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to catch them all without breaking anything.

“Now this is the part I didn’t think all the way through.” Billie sheepishly admitted.

“How you’re going to stop? I’ve been wondering that since the beginning.” Bucky was standing with his arms crossed. He had a smug look on his face that annoyed Billie but she’d rather this than his pathetic state from earlier.

“We might have some casualties I’m afraid.” She mused and went quiet for a few moments. She was staring at the glasses as she threw them around. Maybe if she utilized some bad form she’d be able to toss the glasses forward. With her mind made up she said, “Okay, we’re going to do a reverse of what we just did. You’ll have to get closer but I’ll toss them back to you.”

“So I’m involved again?” Bucky groaned in an over the top way that was more in line with his usual behavior.

“You’re the one who started it.” Billie teased back.

Someone pushed through the crowd, Billie couldn’t tell, and stepped through into the clearing. It was Crosby holding a cushion from one of the chairs in the back corner. “Would this help?” He asked.

“Excellent foresight, Croz.” Bucky clapped Crosby on the back and took the cushion from him and dropped it on the ground in front of him. “Now if I drop it it’ll still have a hope for survival.”

Billie’s arms were on fire. She really needed to speed things along. “We ready over there, gentlemen?”

“When you are.” Bucky answered.

“First one coming through.” Billie called and as one of the glasses came into her right hand she twisted her wrist in a way she was trained to never do. The glass went out instead of up and Bucky caught it with ease.

Billie was elated, she couldn’t believe this was going so well. She tossed a second, and then third glass to Bucky that he beautifully caught. Billie didn’t know why he’d been worried. She was left with a glass in each hand blushing as she faced the crowd. She had been on base with these men for months but this was the first time it felt like any of them were realizing she was a real person. It was electrifying. She gave a dramatic deep curtsy and once she was back standing straight she had people around her. It seemed no one had expected her to pull off such a trick, that no one thought much of her before this. They meant well, Billie knew that. But for some reason the comments stung a little.

After Billie was done working her way through a small group of admirers Barbara slid up to Billie’s side. “I can only imagine what they’d be saying if they saw your flying costume. Probably have to fight your way through a lot more them.”

Billie elbowed Barbara. “Leave the costume out of it. I can’t believe I showed you that picture.”

“Why would you bring it with you if you didn’t want someone to see it?”

“Look, who cares about the picture of me and my friend. Tell me honestly,” She set the glasses down on the table and then grabbed Barbara’s hands. She was embarrassed but had to ask, “How did I look up there?”

“You’re an absolute ace and you know it, don’t go begging for compliments.” Barbara squeezed Billie’s hands and smiled. “But you looked lovely. More alive than I’ve seen in a while. You looked like you were having a lot of fun. Were you?”

“I did, yeah.” Billie answered. She looked at the glasses on the table, smiling to herself. She reached out and picked them back up. “It was fun to get back into it. More than I thought it would be.”

“I still can’t believe you can juggle.” Barbara shook her head with a smile. She brought her pint glass up and sipped bit of the beer head. “You’re the darnedest thing.”

“You make it seem like I did this crazy thing when all I did was throw some stuff around.” Billie admonished.

“Well it’s certainly not something that a lot of people can do, especially with how much you’ve had to drink. And I think that’s worth celebrating!” Barbara lifted her glass in the air then brought it down and took a big gulp. She let out a content sigh and asked, “Did you see what happened between June and her new replacement? When we got here?”

“I saw them dancing for a while, but that’s it.” Billie answered.

Barbara started in on her story and Billie tried her best to pay attention to the latest updates on her friend’s love life. But the glasses were warm now in her hands and she kept turning them over and over. It had always been soothing to Billie to have something in her hands to play with. Part of the reason why she took to juggling so well. Her arms weren’t burning anymore. Instead there was an ache, the kind Billie couldn’t help but love. She thought her arms could handle going again now that she was warmed up. Still listening to Barbara she took a couple steps away from her friend and started tossing the two glasses around. Two didn’t require as much focus so Billie was able to pay attention to Barbara’s gossip while keeping her eyes on the glasses she was juggling.

Barbara made a crude joke and Billie took her eyes off the glasses as she turned her head slightly, laughing and ready to say something in response. Only Barbara had stepped to the side to say something to Douglass. She’d turned her back enough so Billie got a clear look through the crowd and straight to the bar. There was a man standing facing her. Looking directly at her. Billie couldn’t help but gasp a little.

He had curls, a mustache, and looked to be about a little less than a head taller than her. Never in Billie’s life had she been so struck by someone. The eye contact had a grip around her throat. She was buzzing. He didn’t look away and neither did Billie, a challenge of sorts. She was struck with a feeling of familiarity and wanted to rush towards him, pull him close to her and never let go. Her face started heating up, her pale skin betraying her emotions as always. She felt foolish but he looked like he would give the best hug, the kind that felt like home and made you forget all that was happening around you. Billie was struck with the realization that as deeply as she was looking at him, he was looking right back at her with the same intensity. Finally someone was seeing her; they were seeing each other. He gave her a smile and she felt herself returning the gesture. He had a beautiful smile. She wanted to see what it looked like up close. Billie felt like she was flying through the air without the safety net, her stomach all out of sorts. Suddenly she was reminded of what she must look like; red faced, messy hair, with a disheveled uniform. Hardly presentable or anything worth looking at.

Her heart collapsed through her stomach and she wrenched her eyes away from the man just as Barbara reached out to touch Billie’s arm to get her attention. She knew it was going to happen before it did, but Billie lost her grip and one of the glasses slipped through her fingers. It crashed around her, causing a brief wave of silence as people turned to see what happened. Billie’s knew her face must look like a tomato so she immediately dropped to a crouch to hide her face and looked at the damage up close.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Barbara wailed from somewhere over Billie. “I distracted you, this is all my fault!” She joined Billie on the floor and reached out as if to start scooping up the glass with her bare hands. She paused and then looked up at Billie. “I’m going to go find a broom and dustpan.” she said and then ran off into the crowd.

Billie kicked at the big pieces of glass trying to move what she could. Then she did what Barbara wouldn’t and started picking at the glass with her hands.

“How is it that you can handle juggling five but two is what takes you out?” She heard Bucky behind her and she smiled to herself. Of course he saw her mess up.

“We all have our things, sir.” She said still facing the ground.

“Here, to make it easier.” Billie looked up to see him handing her a beer. “Wasn’t sure what you liked so if you hate it at least I tried.” Bucky said with a shrug.

“I appreciate the attempt.” Billie smiled. She stood up to take the beer but set it on the table instead of taking a drink.

“I’ll find you tomorrow to get you your smokes.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that.” Billie waved him off. “I was messing around. I don’t even smoke.”

“What were you going to do with them?”

“Use them as bribes to have people forgive me for inevitably doing something wrong.” The strategy hadn’t worked yet but she wasn’t going to give up her attempts now.

“Come on, you’re not that bad.” Bucky reasoned.

“Well I’ve never had to give you an IV before so maybe hold your judgement until I get you under my care.” Billie joked.

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Bucky asked.

“Maybe it is.” Billie shrugged and gave Bucky a playful light punch on the arm.

Billie heard Barbara before she saw her. “I have a broom, dustpan, and some rags. Lets get this cleaned up.”

At that Bucky have a nod to the girls and said, “I’ll leave you to it. Thanks for the show, Billie”

Billie ducked her head in a slight bow, “Always happy to play my part, Major.” She watched him walk away for a moment before she turned to help Barbara. They were making quick work of it until Billie, in the middle of telling a story, grabbed a shard of glass without thinking and sliced her hand open. She hissed as her palm throbbed.

“Now that doesn’t look too good.” Douglas had made his way over to stand above the pair on the ground.

“Really, James? She hadn’t realized.” Barbara snapped. Douglass raised his hands in the air and took a couple of steps back.

“Geez, sorry I said anything.” He turned and left the two on the ground.

Billie thought that was a bit harsh. She wondered if something had happened and maybe Douglass wasn’t going to get his normal kiss goodnight.

She reassured Barbara, “I don’t think it’s that bad.” Barbara gave her a look and Billie cut her off before she could say anything Billie continued, “But I want to get it looked at before I go to bed.” She grabbed one of the unused rags and pressed it against the cut, soaking up the blood. It stung but Billie didn’t let the discomfort show on her face. “Do you know who is on shift tonight?”

Barbara nodded in approval of Billie’s statement and answered, “I think it’s Lucy. I hope it’s Lucy. For your sake I hope it’s anyone but Rebecca.”

Billie groaned at the thought. Knowing her luck the nurse who seemed the most vexed with her would be working that night. She’d be mortified if she had to get stitches from Rebecca.

“Let’s pray it’s Lucy.” Billie said with a weak smile.

“She won’t give you any grief then, that’s for sure. Do you want to go outside and get some air while I finish cleaning this up? I’ll walk with you to the hospital.” Barbara was sweet to offer.

“Are you sure you’re okay finishing cleaning this up?”

Barbara nodded. “It was my fault anyways. Go on, I won’t be here much longer. Go catch your breath.” she used her hands to shoo Billie away from the mess of glass.

Billie hovered for a second but then turned to make her way outside. It was easy to weave her way through the crowd, a type of dance in itself. Just before she got to the door Billie turned to look over her shoulder at the bar where the man had been standing. He was still there, but his back was partially to the door. She could see him in profile and even that was striking. Billie’s breath caught. He seemed to be listening to his friend talk but Billie focused in on the man’s hands. One was holding a drink the other was down by his side snapping along with the music. Billie smiled to herself charmed by how in tune the man was with the music. She somehow knew that he was just moments away from starting to dance along instead of letting his fingers do all the work. Billie turned before he could start and walked out the door.

______________________________________________________________

The base was quiet, depressingly quiet. The air was thick with the missing presences of all the lives lost in that day’s mission to Munster. Billie hadn’t seen anything like it in her time there at Thorpe Abbotts. No one had seen such a day. Only one fort had come back, piloted by someone named Robert Rosenthal. Rosie she thought she heard the nickname was. Billie wondered how that pilot must be feeling, what all of those surviving airmen were feeling.

Billie was heading to the hospital. She needed to re-bandage her hand and figured she’d get a head start on the inventory counts so her shift would be easier tomorrow.

Lucy, one of the normal night shift nurses, greeted her when she came through the doors. “Billie! Don’t tell me you—”

“No, I didn’t rip out the stitches. I just need you to wrap it back up so I don’t waste all your hard work.”

“How’d it come undone?”

Billie shrugged. “You know, life.”

Lucy shook her head. She wasn’t all that surprised that Billie hadn’t been careful or able to stay still enough to keep the bandage on her hand. There were times when Lucy thought Billie was just as bad as some of the kids that were always running around.

Lucy was studying Billie’s hand when they heard someone come through the door. The pair looked up and Billie’s stomach dropped. The ground seemed to fall from beneath her. It was him, the man from the officer’s club. She had assumed he was one of the many that were lost. Billie didn’t think that she would ever see him again and she’d been having an embarrassingly hard time accepting that. He didn’t look in their direction, just walked over to the man in the very last bed on the right who was already speaking to him as he sat down. His back was to the nurses, something that Billie was beyond thankful for.

“That’s Rosie.” Lucy whispered.

“Who?”

“Rosie Rosenthal. He was the only one to come back.”

This was Rosie? Billie’s heart flipped and then tightened. Of course he would be a pilot. She pulled her hand away from Lucy.

“Who’s he with?” Billie asked.

“His navigator, I think. Lieutenant Bailey.”

“What happened to him?”

“A couple of nasty cuts on his face, we’re keeping him here overnight to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion.”

“Do you think he has a concussion?”

“Not at all. He hasn’t shown any of the signs but I think they’re just trying to be extra careful.”

“Makes sense.” Billie said.

Lucy made quick work of bandaging Billie’s hand and when she was finished Billie found her clipboard and started making her counts. Billie kept stealing looks at Rosie’s back. She couldn’t look away. It was almost impossible to focus when he was right there. At any point he could turn around and he’d see her, and at that thought Billie realized that she didn’t want him to see her. He turned his face slightly and Billie caught a look of his profile. Thing was, Billie was attracted to competence. She was drawn to those who were skilled, those who knew exactly what they were doing. To her there was nothing more attractive than a man who could handle himself. Billie wished she could be more like her old self. There was a version of her that would have no problem walking right up to him. It would be so easy to slip herself into his orbit. But she wasn’t that version anymore. She’d become so timid.

Billie eventually lost herself in her counts and by the time she called it quits Rosie was gone. The next morning Billie was tasked with checking on Rosie’s navigator, Lieutenant Bailey. She felt like she could throw up she was so nervous but she pushed through and plastered a smile on her face.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

“Good morning, ma’am.”

“Oh, please. Call me Billie. I can’t stand being called ma’am.”

Bailey laughed. “Alright, Billie it is then. You here to let me out?”

Billie nodded. “I just have to clean and bandage some of these face scrapes and then you’ll be good to go.”

“Hey,” Bailey was studying Billie. “Did you juggle the other night at the party for Dye?”

Billie blushed. Was this how she was going to be known now? “I did, yeah.”

“I thought that was you! How did you learn how to do that?”

“I grew up in the circus.” Billie said simply.

“Wow, a real circus girl. The only time I went to the circus was back when I was in high school. It was an incredible show.”

“Oh yeah? What was your favorite part?”

“Anything they did up in the air. I liked all of the flips.”

“An airmen who likes daring feats in the air, how predictable.” Billie teased. She didn’t say anything about how she’d been one of those doing flips in the air. Men tended to think of her only one way when they found out what she used to wear, how much skin she used to show. She loved her version of flying but it had it’s downsides. Continuing the small talk she asked, “Where are you from, Lieutenant.”

“New York City. Well, Long Island technically”

“Oh I love New York City. I haven’t been there in years.” She paused what she was doing to really think about it. “Maybe ’37 or ’38?” she thought a couple moments longer.

“I saw the circus in the summer of ’37.” Bailey commented.

“It was ’37!” Billie snapped her fingers. “Summer of 1937. Because Charles and I snuck in to go see A Day at the Races. We were there on Long Island too.”

“That’s around when I saw the circus! Maybe I saw yours.”

“Maybe.” It was surreal for Billie to think of that possibility.

“Wait, so you snuck into the movies?” Bailey asked.

Billie resumed her work, answering, “Well it wasn’t really sneaking. We exchanged circus tickets for movie tickets.”

“A fair switch. How’d you pull that off?”

“We caught some kids trying to sneak through the back the day before and instead of throwing them out my friend asked if there was anything they could do for us in exchange.”

“So this wasn’t the first time you’d pulled out the bartering.”

“Oh, not at all. Movies, plays, jazz clubs, baseball games, you name it and I’ve probably tried to exchange tickets for it.”

“You like jazz?”

“Sometimes I think it’s the only music that makes sense.” She set the excess bandages down and reached out to hold Bailey’s chin to keep his face still. She inspected her work. Thankfully she hadn’t messed up his simple patch job. “Alright, Lieutenant. I think you’re ready for discharge.”

Bailey practically jumped out of the bed and Billie laughed at his reaction.

______________________________________________________________

Billie hated to admit defeat but she had been defeated plain and simple. She had never not finished a book before but Moby Dick was where she drew the line. It was just so much, too complicated and heavy. She didn’t know what any of the words meant and even though she was managing to follow along with the plot it was possibly one of the most boring books she’d ever read. There were plenty of times Billie hated her lack of education and this was one of them. She wouldn’t be having such a hard time if she’d been able to go to school. For a couple of years her parents had put together an attempt at a homeschool for her and her brother and the rest of the circus kids but no real work had ever gotten done. She was jealous of all the girls who were still in school. Billie could only ever dream of going to college.

Rebecca had been in college before the war. Billie’s stomach turned thinking about Rebecca. The girl had it out for Billie, and now that she was thinking about it Billie’s lack of real education might have something to do with Rebecca’s attitude towards her. It was clear Rebecca didn’t think she had what it took to be a nurse and her lack of education was a contributing factor. If only their training instructor hadn’t made a comment in front of everyone then maybe Rebecca wouldn’t be so bad.

But Billie wasn’t thinking about Rebecca, not that day and not for the rest of the weekend. Rebecca had gotten approved for leave to London and Billie felt it was more a gift to her and the girls than it was to Rebecca. Now she’d be given a break from her most recent stress fantasy: a cruel dream where Rebecca and Rosie fall in love and flaunt it in Billie’s face. She knew Rebecca found Rosie attractive and that they’d danced at the officer’s club a couple nights ago. Billie knew it shouldn’t bother her. Everyone should find Rosie attractive, Billie reasoned with herself. There was no deny thing the truth. But there was this sense of possession that Billie could’t get rid of. She was ashamed of it but she felt like Rosie was hers. That eye contact had changed everything for Billie.

Her priorities had shifted. She found herself wanting to be someone that could be worthy of standing next to Rosie. He was just so good. Rosie had become a presence on the base, earning almost a mythical status after the disastrous Munster mission. Rosie was all anyone wanted to talk about which helped Billie collect scraps of information about the pilot, but it was also overwhelming. She felt silly having feelings over a man that plenty of the other women on base were praying would ask them to dance. She normally stayed away from the stars of the show, knowing that it was more fun to fool around with those in the background. A big ego wasn’t attractive to Billie, in fact it was practically an instant turn off. Luckily for her crush it didn’t seem like Rosie had an ego.

No, Rosie seemed to be the furthest thing from the typical Hollywood hotshot pilot. He was nothing like Majors Cleven and Egan had been. No one could fill the holes they had left but Rosie seemed to be standing steady on his own. He was turning out to be a popular guy in his own way making it easy for Billie to fall deeper into her feelings. She was embarrassed by how strongly she felt towards Rosie and she dreaded the inevitable day news of her crush got out. Barbara would have a fit when she found out and Billie wanted to hold that off as long as possible. It wasn’t worth letting anyone know if nothing had happened. She didn’t know what was going to happen but something in her told her that she couldn’t run away from Rosie forever.

So there Billie was going to the library in attempt to make up for the years of schooling she didn’t get. She could never compete with a college education like Rebecca’s but she could at least become as well read as the base library would allow. Billie was quietly humming to herself when she rounded the corner to walk through the propped open door to the library. Her voice died once she registered who was in the library and she stopped in her tracks.

Rosie was standing with his back to her. He was talking to the librarian about something or another, Billie was too startled to try and follow along. She glanced to her left and saw that no one else was in the room. Quickly and as quietly as she could she crossed the room while keeping her head down. Once she reached the corner she pulled down a book at random and studied the back cover.

All of Billie’s nerve endings seemed to be on fire. It was as if she was hyper aware of what was happening but it felt like it was happening to somebody not herself. She set the book down and grabbed another from a different shelf without looking. She flipped it open to a random page and pretended to read. It had been days since she’d seen Rosie but that had been from afar. This was the closest she’d been to him since the night in the hospital.

Rosie and the librarian were talking about baseball. Just as Billie was beginning to track the conversation it was ending and Rosie was saying goodbye. Rosie’s footsteps were loud as they went out the door and down the hallway. Still, Billie waited where she was and didn’t move. The tension only slipped from her body when she felt safe that Rosie was really gone.

“Billie! Sorry I didn’t say hello when you came in.” The librarian called to her from where he was looking over his records.

“Oh, it’s okay, Edward.” Billie reassured.

“How did you end up liking Moby Dick?” He asked.

“Oh it was miserable. I couldn’t finish it.” Billie let out a little laugh.

“That bad?” Edward’s eyebrows were furrowed, lips in a frown.

“Yeah, sorry to disappoint. I know you liked it.”

“No skin off my back,” He shrugged. “What are you looking for now?”

“I’m not quite sure.” She held up Frankenstein and Oliver Twist. “Have you read either of these?”

“If you didn’t like Moby Dick I’m not sure if you would like Oliver Twist. I think you’d better stick with Frankenstein.”

Billie hummed and set Oliver Twist back down. She flipped through Frankenstein, skimming a couple of passages. “Alright then. We’ll go with this.”

“You’re really going to take my recommendation even though you didn’t like my last?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance don’t you think? Well, mostly everyone. You sure do.” Billie said.

“I wish more people thought like you, Billie.”

“People do, just not military people. It’s a different world here.” Billie said.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Edward echoed his agreement.

______________________________________________________________

The sun was barely peaking through the surrounding trees when Billie finished her second lap around the airfield. She’d been on edge for a while now and running it seemed was one of the few things that settled her. For once she didn’t have the morning shift so she was able to get her run in before the base woke up. There was no mission that day so only a handful of other people around. Billie waved to them as she ran by, not stopping to talk to anyone. Her shirt was sticking to her back she was sweating so much. Her lungs were burning. But still she pushed herself to keep running. In a way she had missed this, which was why she kept at it. It felt good, felt familiar, to burn herself out.

“Hey, Billie!”

Billie slowed, looking around for the source of the voice. She vaguely recognized it but wasn’t sure who it was.

“At your 10:00” It was Mae, crouched underneath a plane. Billie jogged over and came to stop by Mae’s toolbox. She lifted her hands up and held them above her head as she tried to slow her breathing down.

“Good morning.” Billie said when she finally steadied her breath. “You’ve started early.”

“Tell me about it. Not all of us are used to your hours.” Mae slid out from under the plane and stood up. She stretched out her back and dropped her head to her chest. Mae let out a sigh. “It’s going to be such a long day.” She moaned, sounding close to tears.

“Is it?”

“It’s going to be awful. Not only am I starting before the crack of dawn but it’s not going to stop until probably—”

Billie felt bad for tuning Mae out, especially when she was trying to vent about her work which was something she really should be supporting her friend with, but she couldn’t help it. Billie had realized that Mae had been working on Rosie’s fort. The name was painted in a bright yellow script: Rosie’s Riveters. She loved it. She couldn’t focus on anything else.

Mae continued ranting while Billie circled the fort, stretching out while she did. She loved what the planes looked like up close, such terrifying mechanical beasts. They were these amazing powerful creatures that Billie couldn’t help but see as death traps. How could she not after seeing the boys when they come back? She wondered what it felt like to command such a hulking thing. She wondered not for the first time what it felt like to be a pilot, to have so much pressure on your shoulders. To have the lives of nine other men on your hands. One blessing about being the worst nurse base was that she barely had any responsibility. She had it so easy compared to the rest of them. Shame washed over her and she dropped her hand from where she’d been running it over the wing.

Billie finally tuned back into Mae’s drawl and gathered that the mechanic was going to have to look at a lot of planes that day. She decided to push things along. Plus for some reason she didn’t trust herself being around Rosie’s fort. It felt like such a personal extension of the man, she didn’t want to encroach. Besides she was already driving herself crazy thinking about Rosie she needed to give herself some distance.

Billie asked how much work she had left on Rosie’s plane and Mae answered that she had just finished up.

“I actually caught you at the perfect time. I’m going to get started on the one next door.” Mae gestured to the plane behind them. “Do you mind helping me carry some of this stuff over there?”

“You know you don’t have to ask.” Billie let out a laugh, grateful that she could be of use. “Besides you’re doing me a favor.”

“Of course I am, I’m not being lazy at all.” Mae laughed. “I guess how else are you going to stay balanced?” Mae joked. “You clearly got your legs in already so now you need to work out your arms.”

The pair made quick work of moving the equipment and Billie found herself settling down to keep talking to Mae while she began her work.

“Do you think you’ll go back to the airshows once this is all done?” Billie asked Mae.

Mae hummed, thinking it over. “I probably will, at least at first. My dad says they’re making do with the mechanic that replaced me but I think he said that so that I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“You feel bad about leaving them?” She’d told Mae all about running away from the circus, how desperate she’d been to get out of there. But Mae didn’t have the same relationship with her family business as Billie had with hers.

“Constantly. But luckily they’re always reassuring me that they’re proud of me. They know I’m doing good work.”

“You’re doing great work, Mae.”

“Thanks, Billie.”

The pair went quiet but then Mae doubled back in the conversation to say, “But I don’t think I’ll stay for long when I go back.”

“Really?”

“I think this whole thing has ruined flying for me.” Mae sat back on her heels and let out a deep exhale. Billie knew what she was feeling, that bone deep exhaustion one got when thinking about how much blood they’d seen, all the lives they’d lost.

“What do you think you’ll do instead?”

“Absolutely no idea.” Mae went back to work.

They were in the middle of talking about the first time Mae’s sister had taken Mae up with her during one of the airshows when Billie noticed the shapes of two men walking toward them. She squinted, she couldn’t tell who it was.

Something in her stomach turned and she worried she knew what that feeling meant. It didn’t take much longer for her to recognize the men as Ken Lemmons and Rosie. They looked to be in deep discussion which Billie was grateful for. She slid down in her seat so she wouldn’t stand out as much amidst the parts. Her heart was pounding and she felt like she could throw up. Here she was avoiding Rosie again.

Barbara had started to joke that Billie was turning into a hermit but there was some truth to it. She’d been turning down more and more invitations to go out. She was keeping to herself. She was doing a lot of reading and knitting. She’d started a scarf when she first got to Thorpe Abbotts that she was finally giving it the attention it deserved. Knitting was easier than risking seeing Rosie. Billie couldn’t explain it in a way that didn’t make her feel like an idiot but she just couldn’t be around him. Her crush was too big; she didn’t trust herself. Billie had no experience with serious relationships since she’d only ever had casual flings. She wasn’t used to these sort of real feelings. Rosie was the real deal and she couldn’t mess that up. But of course she would because that’s what she did.

The two men were far enough away that Billie knew she was safe to ask, “What’s he doing out here?” It was a silly question, he probably had countless reasons to want to come and look at his plane. But it was early for pilots to be out when they weren’t flying.

“Who?” Mae lifted her head and looked around. She stood up a bit to get a better look.

Billie nodded in the direction of the two in deep discussion, coming closer and closer. Mae followed Billie’s direction. “Rosie?” Billie nodded. “He’s probably here to see the patch up on the left wing. They’re doing a practice run later today and I think he’s one of those who needs to get his hands on the thing and check it over himself before wheels up. Whatever it takes to make sure they get up in the air, right?”

“You think he doesn’t trust you?”

“I think he’s a pilot.” Mae said simply, getting back to work. “They’ve all got their superstitions. Seems like he knows what he’s talking about. More than some of these other jokesters can say.”

“Is that right?” Billie hummed. How was he real? He wore his competence well and Billie was so attracted to him it hurt. She felt weird feeling so strongly towards a stranger but she was almost at the point of full accepting her obsession.

Rosie hadn’t looked over in their direction yet, but Billie knew it was only a matter of time. She brought her knees up to her chin and she sat with her arms curled around her legs. Talk about the worst time to be in her PT gear, she was showing so much skin. There was no way Rosie wouldn’t see her. Well, it was possible he wouldn’t but highly unlikely. At least she had legs that looked good in her PT gear. Or she used to have good legs.

“Do I have nice legs?” Billie needed confirmation from Mae.

“You have a nice everything.” Mae said diplomatically not looking up to look at Billie.

“I’m being serious.” Billie pouted.

“So am I!” Mae finally turned to look at Billie. She stuck her hand on her hip and pointed a wrench at Billie. “Why are you worried about your legs all of a sudden?”

“No reason.”

“Really, what’s got you worked up?”

Billie couldn’t help but glance over at Rosie’s plane and Mae tracked her gaze.

“Huh.” was all Mae said.

Billie was mortified. But she knew that Mae wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. Not there was anything there to make a big deal out of.

Mae looked at Billie hunched over on herself and chuckled. “Ease up, I’m not going to do anything.” Mae reasoned. “You’re really in it, aren’t you.” She shook her head. All of the nurses were boy crazy it seemed. Mae’s heart hurt, reminded of a time when that was her. But Billie looked so pathetic that Mae felt like she had to take her out of her misery. She reminded herself of when she was in the beginning butterflies stage, how big everything felt.

“Hey, come on.” Mae called to Billie. “I gotta run an errand with the jeep. Do you want a lift back to your hut?”

Billie was beyond grateful for Mae’s kindness. She didn’t have any other friends on the base who would stay quiet about Billie feeling some type of way over a man. Mae was a good friend and Billie was grateful this awful war had managed to bring them together.

Billie stood and walked over to the jeep. All she could think about was her legs and she imagined Rosie looking at them. It didn’t make sense that she felt this way even though she was revealing less skin than she did with her flying costume. There was a time when she felt perfectly at home parading around with barely anything covered and now here she was. How had she turned into such a prude? She tied to shake out the nervous energy running through her. She wished she could go back to running but it was too late in the day now.

She climbed into the jeep and finally let herself take a peek back in the direction of Rosie’s plane. Ken was standing facing away from her, gesturing to something in the engine. Rosie was standing facing her. Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach dropped, but then she realized that she was too far away for him to really see her. Even if he did see her he wouldn’t be able to realize who she was, she reasoned with herself. She didn’t have to get so worked up over nothing.

“You good?” Mae asked as she jumped into the drivers seat and started up the jeep.

“All good.” Billie nodded.

Mae pressed on the gas and drove them away from Rosie, Billie’s heart somehow sinking the further and further away they got. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep her game up.

______________________________________________________________

Billie made more progress on her scarf in the past couple of weeks than she had her entire stay at Thorpe Abbotts. She was down to only going out with the girls once a week. No matter how much they begged, Billie couldn’t get herself to risk it. The girls were worried about her, that much Billie knew. Barbara had given her no option but go out with them that night and Billie figured her plan was to get Billie drunk and force her to talk. She didn’t know how to explain how she was avoiding a pilot she’s never talked to, only stared at once and now can’t stop thinking about. She couldn’t explain how crazy and obsessed she felt. Barbara wouldn’t be able to understand that she can’t let herself be around Rosie.

Plus there was the fact that he was a pilot. They were in the middle of a war. It was hard enough waiting for Rosie to come back from missions as it was and she didn’t even properly know him. The anxiety would be too much for her to handle if she got closer with Rosie. The potential heartbreak too much, but Billie was one to always be at odds with herself. She wanted Rosie but she was too scared to do anything about it; she knew leaving him alone would protect her heart but it seemed more heartbreaking to not try and get to know Rosie with each passing day.

Rosie had burrowed himself deep under Billie’s skin and it was almost irritating. He was changing everything for her. Billie was used to having to constantly saying goodbye to people, used to good things happening only for brief moments. Billie was used to flings and moving on. Rosie shouldn’t have been different than any of the other men. But he was.

Billie’s train of thought was interrupted by Barbara coming through the door already asking, “Who wants to go out with me tonight? I was thinking the pub. Billie, you’ll come if we go to the pub, right?” Barbara clasped her hands together and brought them next to her face while she did her best to give puppy dog eyes to Billie.

“Really? The pub again?”

“What’s wrong with the pub? You love the pub.” Barbara’s hands went to her hips, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Nothing is wrong with the pub. I just think you should stop avoiding Douglass at the officer’s club.” Billie shrugged as she focused back in on knitting.

“I said we weren’t going to talk about him!” Barbara shrieked. Billie could’t help but bite back a laugh at her friend’s dramatics.

“Sorry, my mistake.” Billie paused then sighed. There was really only one solution. She set her knitting down and got out of bed stretching her arms out over her head. “I’ll go with you.” Billie knew she wasn’t getting out of it so she might as well give in early.

“And I didn’t have to fight you on it,” Barbara eyed Billie suspiciously. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.” Billie gestured to her knitting. “Just getting stir crazy. Head hurts from trying to count stitches.”

“Well you can’t back out now! Hey, can I do your makeup?” Barbara’s eyes shined with excitement.

Billie shrugged and said with a smile, “Let’s make it your night, Barbara. Do to me what you’d like.” She tried to play it off as if she was doing Barbara a favor but Billie had been keeping a secret.

It was no secret Billie didn’t wear makeup and only occasionally let Barbara dress her up. But it was a secret that Billie actually loved having her makeup done. Growing up the hair and makeup tent was where she felt most connected to her femininity. She was always safe with those women who took her in and taught her all of the things her mother hadn’t. She’d never admit it to anyone but Billie found it to be almost spiritual being surrounded by women putting themselves together for a show. For years the only gentle touches Billie got were from the women in that wagon. She’d missed that. Part of why it hurt so much being cut from the shows was because she lost the access to that feminine space.

When she was looking at herself in the mirror right before leaving Billie was struck by how much she looked like her old self. She straightened her posture and composed herself. Everything felt more like a show when she went out looking like this. Billie gave her reflection a cheeky wink, smiled, and turned to follow the rest of the girls out of the door and into the night.

It had only taken half an hour for Barbara to leave Billie’s side in favor of the minuscule dance floor. Billie had been expecting to be ditched and timed getting her next round with it; she loved how predictable Barbara was. Despite being on edge that Rosie would pop up somewhere, Billie was having a nice night. It was loud enough she could barely focus on her own thoughts which was something Billie appreciated more and more lately. She had a pleasant buzz going and was thinking that after this next drink she’d see what she could do about getting in on the dancing herself. She finally reached the bar and found a place right on the corner.

She’d only been there a moment when, “Hey! Circus girl. How’ve you been?”

Billie turned and Lieutenant Bailey was standing next to her. Her heart rate skyrocketed. If Bailey was here that meant the rest of Rosie’s crew, including Rosie, was there. “I’m fine.” she answered after a brief hesitation. “And you, Lieutenant? Your face seems like it’s healed up nicely.”

“All thanks to your fine care and attention.”

“Please,” Billie couldn’t help but smirk and rolled her eyes. “I had nothing to do with it and you’re lucky I didn’t. You’d probably be in worst shape if I did.”

“Why are you so down yourself? Come on,” He nudged her with his elbow trying to encourage her. “Did you forget that you’re in the circus?”

“The circus has nothing to do with this.” Billie laughed.

“Hey, speaking of— Do your circus skills include playing darts?” Bailey asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“That’s not a circus skill, more like a life skill. But yes, I can play.” Billie answered.

“Are you good?” Bailey pressed.

“I’m alright.” Billie hedged. She wasn’t sure if she liked the direction this was heading.

“Great! Do you want to come over and play with me and the guys? We’re down one since Rosie wanted to stay at the officer’s club. We can make a bet out of it, I’d split it if we win.”

“When we win.” Knowing there was no chance she’d run into Rosie, Billie was all in on playing darts. She used to play a bit when they first got to base but it had been a while since she’d taken it on and she was looking forward to it. It helped that she knew these men wouldn’t be expecting her to be as good as she knew she was. She wasn’t incredible, but she could hold her own. Billie also couldn’t resist the temptation to try and get some sort of information about Rosie. She was a woman obsessed.

“Now there’s some confidence!” Bailey cheered.

Finally the bartender stood in front of them and asked them what they wanted. Once they were loaded up with their drinks and some for those back at the table the two made their way to the back of the room where the dart board was set up.

“Fellas, this is Billie our resident circus nurse.”

“Please don’t call me that.” Billie laughed.

Bailey continued undeterred, “Billie, this is our copilot Pappy Lewis and our bombardier Clifford Milburn. They’re going to be very upset when we take all their money.”

“You two are going to be the ones losing money, not us.” Milburn joked.

The game got underway and it didn’t take long for Pappy and Milburn to realize that Billie could more than hold her own.

“What a shot!” Bailey let out a cheer when Billie hit the bullseye. “How you feeling boys?”

“Where did you learn to play darts?” Pappy asked Billie before taking a sip of his beer. “Last time I checked they weren’t a part of the circus.”

“You do know I had a life outside of the circus, right?” Billie said, partially lying. The circus had been her entire life but that didn’t mean she wanted them to know that. “But I learned the same as you did. Someone taught me and then I practiced until I was good to take your money.” She hit the bullseye again to finish her turn. “You should just be glad I’m playing with Bailey. If I had Eddie with me you wouldn’t have a chance at all.”

“Is Eddie your boyfriend?” Milburn asked.

Billie shook her head. “No, he’s my younger brother. You’d never guess we were three years apart, he’s more like my twin.” A wave of grief swept over her when she mentioned Eddie. She wondered how he was holding up in training. If he’d jumped out of a plane yet. She took a deep drink of her beer, wishing it was whiskey instead.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Bailey was the one to ask this time.

Billie choked on her drink. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that Rosie’s crew was asking about her love life when she felt practically head over heels for their pilot.

“I take that to be a no?” Pappy was laughing at her.

Billie wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. Pretending she wasn’t losing it on the inside she calmly answered, “You would be correct. Now I believe it’s your turn, Lieutenant.”

After winning best three out of five Billie and Bailey were the undeniable winners. Milburn and Pappy had wanted to push for five out of seven but Billie begged off.

“I have an early morning tomorrow and I can’t bounce back from a night of drinking like I used to.” Billie downed the last of her drink and set the glass amongst the dozen other empty glasses on the table.

“You’re too young to have hangovers like that.” Pappy said, confused.

“Not when you started drinking as young as I did.” Billie shrugged. People tended to age differently in her profession.

After saying her goodbyes Billie made her way to the door while looking around for her friends. She needed to find at least Barbara and figure out who was ready to go back to the hut. To her surprise the girls were already gathered to the side of the door talking amongst themselves.

“There you are!” Barbara cried when she saw Billie walking towards them. She pushed through June and Mae to pull Bailey in for a hug. “I lost track of you!”

“I was just playing darts.” Billie was confused how Barbara could have lost her in the relatively small pub, but then she took a whiff of Barbara as they hugged and could tell that Barbara had more than her fair share of whiskey over the course of the night.

“You didn’t see that?” Mae asked.

“You did?” Barbara responded. “Why didn’t you say anything when I asked?”

“I honestly wasn’t paying attention.” Mae said with half-assed shrug. “Sorry, Barbara.”

“It’s okay, now I don’t feel as bad when I tune you out when you’re talking about your repair details. You know we can’t keep up with that stuff I don’t know why you keep trying.” Barbara snapped.

“Oh come off it, Barbara.” June cut in.

Bille had a clear look at the door in the space between Barbara and June and blankly started out of it while the girls continued to chatter on besides her. She was waiting for a break in the conversation to say that she wanted to leave when someone came through the door. A someone that she was not supposed to see.

Bailey had said that Rosie would be at the officer’s club but there he was a couple of yards in front of her. Her first instinct, that she was quick to act on, was to move to the side so that June was shielding her from any possible view Rosie could have of her. Her mind was racing. She watched Rosie out of the corner of her eye as he slowly made his way through the room. He was good with the men. She liked how he seemed to check in on everyone in some capacity; he made the effort to see every man and to make sure they knew they were being seen. She could tell he cared a lot and his men knew he cared, and her heart sped up even more. She was beyond enamored with him and she didn’t even know him. She felt ridiculous. And lucky. Christ, she was lucky that she’d left his crew when she did. That could’ve been a disaster.

It was around when Rosie got to his crew that Billie realized the girls had gone quiet around her. She looked back to see all three looking at her.

“Care to share with the class?” Barbara asked, eyebrow raised, a wicked grin on her face.

“What are you talking about?” Billie tried to play it off.

“Who were you looking at? Who managed to catch your eye? I’ve been waiting for this day for forever! Who is it?” Barbara rapidly fired the questions off one after another.

“Why are you so invested in my love life?” Billie asked.

“Love life! So there is a man! Quick, who is it? Come on, tell us. Tell us. Tell us.” Barbara was acting like a child, drunkenly pulling on Billie’s arm as she begged Billie to share her secrets. June and Mae were looking at the pair laughing.

“There’s nothing to talk about, seriously. I was just looking around. Leave it be.” Billie said, but she knew it wouldn’t work. She knew these girls wouldn’t give up.

“You know, I think Rosie just got here.” Mae was looking back at the group playing darts. The rest of them followed her gaze and though she wasn’t sure if the rest would, Billie recognized Rosie’s back.

“I said leave it be, please, Mae.” She begged all but confirming that Rosie was her man.

“Fine, fine.” Barbara threw her hands up in the air in defeat. “We’ll leave it be. But just for now!”

“Barbara!” Billie groaned.

“What did you expect?” June looped her arm through Billie’s. “You know how she is.”

“You’re right.” Billie sighed. She lowered her voice so June was the only one who could hear her. “It’s just that there’s really nothing to talk about.”

“If you say so.” June accepted but her face revealed her doubt.

Billie decided not to fight it and turned to look back at Rosie just in time to see him clap Pappy on the back, celebrating a good throw. Their celebration died down a bit and then all of a sudden Rosie turned around and looked in Billie’s direction. Faster than she’s ever moved Billie whipped her head around with such force her body followed and she pulled herself and June out towards the door.

“Okay, I guess we’re leaving.” June laughed, taken by surprise with Billie’s sudden movement.

They walked out of the pub and out into the night. June waited until when they’d gained enough distance between them and Barbara and Mae to ask, “Do you want me to say something to Barbara about Rosie? I can make sure she doesn’t give you too much grief.”

Billie was touched at June’s kindness. She didn’t have a lot of quality girl friends growing up and it felt so good to have someone like June in her corner. She squeezed June’s arm and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. It was going to come out at some point. It’s just silly is all. I’ve never talked to him, just seen him from afar.”

“He’s quite striking isn’t he?” June asked.

Billie blushed as she agreed. “And it scares me.”

“Really?” June laughed. “Your concept of scary is all out of sorts. Normal people are scared about throwing themselves in the air hundreds of feet above the ground, not about talking to a man. You’ve got it all switched around.”

“You know what it’s like. He’s a pilot.” Billie felt it went without saying how risky it was to try to get involved with these men. Heartbreak was practically inevitable. She’d never admit it out loud but she was terrified of ending up like Mae. “If I could change it, I would.” Billie whined. “But I can’t stop thinking about him. I know I should just do something. Because the waiting really is getting to me. I can’t avoid him forever.” she pouted.

“It sounds like you’re putting off the inevitable, darling.” June patted Billie’s hand that was resting on June’s arm. “You’re bound to meet at one point or another. And then whatever is going to happen will happen. Just let it play out.”

“You’re good at this advice stuff.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” She leaned into Billie’s side. “Eleven siblings.”

“Eleven? Christ, your mom must be a saint.”

“She’d like to think so,” June laughed.

The rest of their walk home was filled with June’s childhood stories, Billie marveling at the similarities with her own upbringing.

As she laid in bed that night Rosie came back to her mind. She wished she was able to get a better look at him. The problem with avoiding him was that she only got the barest of glimpses. One of these days she’d see him up close. She just wasn’t sure what was going to happen when she did.

______________________________________________________________

When Billie made her way down to the hardstand to wait for the men to come back from the day’s mission she wasn’t surprised to see a group of airmen playing volleyball. They were laughing, messing around with each other. It always warmed Billie’s heart seeing the men act like they were back home. It was rare to feel normal, it was hard to be able to brush off the looming realities of war surrounding them. Billie was glad that they were able to live in the moment. It had been a while since she’d watched one of the games so she headed to that end of the strip.

Billie was about twenty yards from the game when she recognized that Rosie was among them. Without even having to think about it, Billie immediately turned and started down in the opposite direction. She walked alongside the edge of the tarmac, saying polite hello’s to those who greeted her. Rosie wasn’t flying and that surprised her. She wondered what had happened, if something was wrong with him or the plane. She reasoned it was more likely something had happened to the fort, she’d have heard if Rosie was unable to fly. That sort of gossip wouldn’t stay quiet.

“All done for the day?” Mae asked when Billie plopped down on the ground next to her.

“Done for now.” Billie had changed into a set of coveralls that Mae had lent her at the beginning of her stay at Thorpe Abbotts. She knew that she was gong to have to change back later that day when she had to go into the hospital for an inventory check but for the afternoon she was staying in pants. She missed being able to wear pants all the time. Billie pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She rested her head onto of her knees and looked at Mae. “How much longer until they’re back do you think?”

“Should be any time.” Mae answered. Billie hummed and then closed her eyes. Mae worked in silence for only a couple minutes before asking, “Didn’t want to watch the game?”

Billie knew Mae wouldn’t miss anything. “I wanted to hang out with you, is there anything wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong, you’re just deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting anything!” Billie’s head shot up as she shot a look at Mae.

“You’re right. You’re in denial plain and simple.” Mae reasoned.

“Come off it, Mae.” Billie was mortified to be speaking aloud about this, even though no one around them knew what they were talking about. Billie’s chest was tight knowing Rosie was just down the stretch.

“You know he used to play baseball? Football too.”

Billie groaned. “I did know, actually. You told me a couple of days ago at lunch.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be reminded.” Mae shot Billie a wink. “Athletes tend to stick together, right?”

“Are you trying to say you consider me an athlete? Because I’m going to have to put a stop to that right now.”

“You’re as athletic as he is.” Mae reasoned.

“But I don’t do anything athletic!” Billie pouted.

“You run.”

“Other than running.” Billie dismissed Mae’s point with a flippant hand wave.

“Are you trying to say you didn’t do anything athletic back home?”

“I mean… yeah, I used to. But not anymore.”

“Just like he doesn’t anymore.” Mae was looking at her with a smug expression.

Billie was cut off from responding by a group of the local kids running by them. One of them, Sammy, stopped to say hello to Mae.

“How’re you doing today, Sammy?” Mae asked.

Sammy shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t look okay.” Billie commented.

“Hey, do you want to see something fun?” Mae asked Sammy. Her eyes were twinkling like she had something up her sleeve.

His eyes lit up. “What is it?”

“Well, first I have to let you in on a little secret.” She used a finger to beckon Sammy closer and said in a quiet voice, “Nurse James here used to be in the circus.”

“The circus!” Sammy shouted. He’d caught the attention of some of the other kids. “You were really in the circus?” He asked Billie.

“I grew up in the circus.” Billie answered.

Sammy’s eyes were wide with excitement. “With elephants?”

“No, we didn’t have any elephants. But for a while we had a lion.”

“You had a lion!” another kid, Billy, joined the conversation. “Did he ever bite anyone’s head off?”

“Sorry to say, Billy, no one lost their head to the lion.”

“Why did you leave the circus when you had a lion?” Sammy asked.

“Well I had to come here and help, didn’t I?” Billie simplified her past for the kids.

Mae cut in, “Why don’t you ask her what she used to do in the circus.”

“Mae—” Billie started but was cut off by questions from all around her asking what she could do.

“Maybe if you are good she’ll show you something.” Mae egged on the kids. “I heard she can do a cartwheel.”

“I can do a cartwheel too!” One of the girls, Mary, raised her hand.

“Can you?” Billie asked with a smile. “Can I see?”

“Only if you go too.” Mary reasoned and Billie laughed.

“Fair enough. I walked right into that one didn’t I?” Billie got to her feet and followed the girl out to the other end of the hardstand and out onto the grass.

Mary did a decent cartwheel and Billie and the others watching all clapped. “Wait, wait. I can do a better one! Wait!” Mary rushed out before Billie could take her turn. Billie was impressed with how seriously the girl was taking her cartwheel. Mary composed herself then did another cartwheel, this time in better form.

She was beaming when she came running back to Billie. “Now it’s your turn!”

“Alright, alright.” Billie checked if the space was clear behind her before taking a good couple of steps back. She took a deep breath then said, “Here you go!”

Billie did one cartwheel, and then another. A third cartwheel. She started what looked like a fourth cartwheel but instead Billie halfway into it she went up into a handstand. Now this was fun. Billie loved handstands, so much so that growing up Eddie would tease Billie for being steadier on her hands than feet. Walking on her hands Billie chased after Sammy who was cackling.

Billie came to a stop then pushed her arms out to full extension, took a breath, and lowered her legs slowly into the splits. While her breath was steady her core was trembling; it felt so good. Billie knew she wasn’t going to fall but also that she was going to be feeling this for the next couple of days. She held the splits for only a moment before pushing off the ground and flipped herself right side up finishing the cartwheel.

The kids swarmed around her, giggling and begging her to do it again. What else could she do? Does she know how to do a flip? Billie noticed that more heads were turned in her direction. She didn’t have an outright crowd, but the kids surrounding her weren’t the only ones watching. It took all of Billie’s self control to not look over at the far end where Rosie was playing volleyball. She didn’t want to know if any of them were looking at her. If she knew Rosie was looking at her Billie wouldn’t be able to handle it. But deep down she didn’t know if she was going to be able to get out of this one unseen. She couldn’t help but wonder what he would think about her doing something so unladylike. One of the girls tugged on Billie’s arm pulling her attention back to what she was doing. She blushed when she took in the girl’s eyes, wide with shock and awe.

Even though Billie didn’t get cravings for an audience like the rest of her family she still appreciated aspects of the attention. It fed a sense of ego Billie was embarrassed to admit she had. It was one of her shameful secrets: she wanted to be remembered. As much as she hated her childhood and the way she was brought up, Billie knew there was a magic to the circus. It was an experience and something that stayed with attendees for the rest of their lives. People didn’t forget the circus and there were hundreds of people back in America that remembered Billie even if they didn’t know it was her. Everyone, no matter their age, ended up with the same childlike joy when they went to the circus. It was that reaction Billie cared about. It was only that reaction that pushed her to show off in front of the kids.

She desperately wanted to make sure the kids don’t forget about her. She wanted to live on through them. Less selfishly Billie wanted to counteract any bad vibes that may come when the mission came back. Entertaining people was work, but Billie was coming to think it was a necessary work. At least in these circumstances.

“Alright, alright. Give me some space.” Billie said gently. “Now just give me a moment.”

“What’s she going to do now?” The kids asked each other.

Mae answered for Billie, who had turned and was walking further down the hardstand out of earshot. “I think you best find yourself a seat for the show and find out.”

Billie spent her walk down the hardstand stretching out her arms and finished with a couple of lunges on each side. She was relatively warmed up but she didn’t think it would be wise to try and pull anything fancy. Her audience didn’t know what she could do, all they would care about was what she did. And she knew she could do enough to give them something to smile over. Once she felt like she was far enough away to have room for a couple of stunts Billie turned back around to face her audience. More men were looking at her than before but Billie let their stares roll off her back.

Billie took a deep breath then jumped in place a couple of times. “Are you ready?” She yelled down to the group of kids huddled by Mae. Instead of waiting for their response Billie started running and leapt into a series of stunts that had her flying past the group huddled around Mae. Billie couldn’t help but laugh when she stuck her final landing. The kids cheered while the onlooking adults clapped. Someone let out a whistle. It was such a gift to get such reactions. She vaguely registered there were more people looking her way but stayed focused on the kids.

“Shall I go again?” She lifted a hand to cup behind her ear, waiting for the response she knew was coming. As soon as she heard the first cheer she set off tumbling back down along the hardstand. This time when she finished she sunk into a deep curtsy.

When Billie pulled herself back up some of the kids were already at her side. She laughed as they talked over one another. It was so rare that Billie saw reactions to her tricks up close and personal that the reactions from the kids were overwhelming. She started to walk back to Mae but the kids were making it hard to move. Billie stumbled which caused the two kids in front to back up and give her more space. When Billie looked up after thanking them for giving her the space to move she was looking directly Rosie.

And Rosie was looking at her. He had broken away from the game to stand where the grass met tarmac. He’d been watching Billie. His hands were on his hips and a smile was lighting up his face. It was a smile aimed at her, a smile because of her. He was looking at her like he was endeared by the sight of her barely being able to move with the kids surrounding her. She knew the kids were talking to her. She knew she should be paying them attention. But she couldn’t pull away from Rosie.

She’d been wondering if it was all just a fluke; Billie had figured she’d made mountain out of a molehill. They had looked at each other once, it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. Billie had settled into thinking she was experiencing the effects of an overactive imagination and it being over a year since she’d had her last fling.

But this wasn’t like what she had convinced herself. Because, again, the eye contact with Rosie felt like the most real thing she had ever experienced. She didn’t understand how something as simple as eye contact could make her feel like this. It felt like she was flying. They stared at each other from across the hardstand, neither one of them paying any attention to what was happening around them.

Billie was ripped away from Rosie by one of the younger girls asking, “Can you go at it again? Oh please, can you?”

“Come on, Susan,” Mae cut in. “Let Nurse James take a break and catch her breath.”

“Just a quick breather and then I can go again.” Billie echoed what Mae said.

Her face felt like it was bright red and she was looking everywhere but back at Rosie. Now that she’d broken the eye contact she was terrified to look back his way.

A shout rang out, “I think I hear them!” Everyone’s attention went to the sky.

Sure enough, the hum of plane engines was building in the distance. As it grew louder it became clear that the engines didn’t sound right. From just the sounds of it, it was a rough mission. The first fort came into view— two engines down. Red flares. More forts broke through the clouds, red flares from almost all. Billie wanted to throw up.

“Alright kids, time to get back home.” Mae called to the kids as she stared up at the planes coming in. Her face was blank, eyes empty. Billie knew she was thinking about who they lost this time.

“Hey, Billie!” one of the ambulance drivers was jumping into the front seat of an ambulance parked back behind where Billie was standing. “Hop in, we’ll need your help.”

Billie ran to the passenger seat and before she even closed the door they were off speeding down the tarmac to where the first plane had taxied to a stop. The call for an ambulance came from the co-pilot shouting out his window. Billie leapt to action, grabbing a stretcher and running over to where the men had started jumping out of the back hatch.

“Come give us a hand!”

Billie helped pull the wounded gunner out and loaded him onto the stretcher. They’d made it halfway to the ambulance when he looked up and made eye contact with Billie. He stared at her, glassy eyed and confused.

When he realized who she was he groaned, “You’re not going to drop me, are you?”

“Trust me, Lieutenant, you would much rather have me carry you than try to patch you up. My girls Barbara and June are going to take much better care of you.”

That seemed to comfort him and once they loaded him up into the ambulance Billie ran back into the mess.

______________________________________________________________

It was one of the few sunny days they had seen at Thorpe Abbotts in a while and Billie refused to let it go to waste. It was only ever when the sun was out that she really remembered just how much she loved being in the sun. If her old self, the one who spent summers in the deep south, could see Billie now wishing for the sun and heat she’d lose it. Billie had managed to convince June to join her on a makeshift picnic not wanting to lounge alone in the fall sun. She had just sent June off to scavenge for something they could bring out for lunch. June had said she’d made friends with a woman who worked in the kitchens so Billie didn’t feel bad about putting her friend to work.

Once Billie got the blanket sorted she tossed down her book and sat down. It took a minute to find a comfortable position in her uniform skirt, but she eventually made do. Out of everything Billie had to adjust to when she became a nurse it was the skirts that were the hardest; Billie missed her pants. She grabbed the copy of Frankenstein she still hadn’t managed to finish and opened up the back cover. She pulled out a letter she’d stuffed there earlier and put the book back down on the ground next to her.

Billie was proud of herself for waiting until June left her alone on the blanket to open her brother’s letter. It had taken every ounce of strength but Billie knew she needed to wait until she was alone to take in her brother’s words. It was different now. Despite what her anxiety prepared her for it was a fairly normal and simple letter. There was a story about his friends, questions about how she was holding up, and reassurances that he was okay. Eddie’s voice practically jumped from the page making it easy for Billie to hear her younger brother’s enthusiasm. He was having fun on this grand adventure or however it was young boys looked at war. Billie’s heart tightened as she thought about how naive Eddie was, how young and innocent. She’d been seeing her brother’s face in almost every new recruit lately. It was getting tiring.

Billie was so focused on the letter that she just barely registered someone sitting down next to her. She was surprised; she didn’t think June would get back so soon. She opened her mouth to say as such but—

“That from Eddie?”

That was not June’s voice. Billie straightened up to full attention, her head snapping to the side where the voice came from. It was Rosie.

His face was about a foot from hers and Billie couldn’t help but suck in a breath in surprise. Her face flamed. He leaned back, and what looked like a blush dusted his cheeks. At least she wasn’t alone in being embarrassed. The air between them felt charged.

Right, he’d asked her a question. She had no idea how he knew her brother’s name but she answered, “Yeah, it’s from Eddie.” She looked back down at the letter in her hands. “They’re in the middle of training. He says he’s having a lot of fun.”

“Well that’s good news.” he smiled reassuringly.

“It is,” She agreed. “It’s just…” Billie raised her eyes to meet his again. “It’s not going to stay fun. Not for much longer.”

He gave her a soft smile, maintaining eye contact. He didn’t need to say anything for her to know he understood what she was trying to say.

“But enough about me.” Billie twisted her body a bit so that she was facing Rosie a bit more head on. If he was going to act as if they were already five conversations in she would follow along. She waved a hand to gesture he should take the floor. “How is your day going?”

“It’s going better now I’ll tell you that.”

“Oh is it now?”

“It’s a recipe for success: a free afternoon, sunny and clear sky, and my favorite girl next to me.”

Billie’s heart skipped a couple beats. “Is that right?”

“I said it so it must be true.” Rosie’s smile warmed her right up like a double shot of whiskey. He wasn’t what she was expecting at all. She enjoyed the surprise, wondered where else it was going to go. They were already so far beyond any of her fantasies. Everything was so surreal.

He picked up her book and thumbed through it. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s good. Better than Moby Dick was. At least with this I can mostly follow along.” She thought about explaining herself but she doesn’t want to get into her sob story about wishing she could’ve gone to real school.

“I think I know what you should read next.”

“A book recommendation? I’m flattered.” Billie briefly worried she sounded sarcastic but she meant it. Luckily Rosie’s answering smile told her he understood her perfectly.

“The Great Gatsby. I’ve read it twice and it just gets better with each read. Plus it’s not that old so it’ll be far easier to understand than this.” He lifted the book in the air. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the classics.” Billie couldn’t help but think Rosie looked adorable as he tried to cover his bases in case he insulted her somehow.

“Thank you, I appreciate the recommendation. I’ll check it out once I finish this. It was hard enough giving up on one book I don’t think I could forgive myself if it happens a second time.”

Rosie smiled wider at that and Bille felt like she could explode from the inside out. “I can give you recommendations on anything, anytime you’d like.”

Billie’s heart skipped a beat. Rosie was looking around trying to act cool. Billie could only see the side of his face and it was bright red.

She debated what to say to cover the tension but then decided to lean into it instead of avoiding the awkwardness. Plus she liked seeing him blush. “How did you know my brother’s name?”

Her question made Rosie squirm a little and Billie found herself thrilled at the response. She had an affect on him. He was reacting because of her. She felt oddly powerful, like some sort of mild femme fatale. It had been a long time since she was in a position like this with a man. It was way back before she ran away from home that she’d had her last fling.

“I asked around about you.” Rosie confessed.

Her jaw dropped. “Really? What did people say?” She needed to know.

He nodded. “Well I heard a couple of stories about some blood draws and stitches.” Billie groaned at his words and her face heated with embarrassment. Of course that would be her reputation.

“You’re fine.” Rosie sweetly reassured. He rubbed a hand down her back reassuringly. Billie’s chest constricted at the contact. Was this really happening? Rosie continued, “I also heard that you somehow seem to know something about every airman’s hometown. You can juggle, play darts, and like jazz.”

“I wouldn’t say almost every airman, realistically it’s more like a handful.” Billie reasoned. Her face felt like it was on fire.

“I gotta say, though.” Rosie said. “You don’t make sense to me.”

“I don’t make sense?” Why did that feel like it was the most true thing anyone had ever said about her?

“It’s just that to some people you’re this quiet unassuming nurse but I’ve heard you do more than nursing. Supposedly you’re always running around looking for something to do or someone to help. It’s like you’re trying to do a bit of everything.”

Billie didn’t know how to respond to that. “I feel like two different people sometimes.” Billie said softly. “It’s just that when I’m nursing …” she shook her head as she trailed off.

“I want to know more about you.” Rosie said boldly. But he said it in the sweetest gentle voice. He was treating her with a delicate care she didn’t think she’d ever receive.

Billie felt like she was going to have a heart attack. She was used to forward sexual advances, used to midnight trysts and pillow talk and never speaking again. She had no experience on the real getting to know you part of romantic feelings. “What do you want to know?” She asked.

“Everything.” He answered. “I never want to stop learning things about you.”

Billie stared at his face, taking him in. She’d been thinking about him for so long. For over a month she’d been left with her memory and fantasies. But now he was real. And the real Rosie wanted to know about her. “Come off it, you sweet talker.” her instinct was to attempt to tease. “You don’t mean that.”

“I’m serious.” Rosie insisted. How was this happening? Billie was in disbelief. The possibility of him being this interested in her hadn’t been one of the scenarios she’d imagined would happen when she finally met Rosie. Attraction, maybe. This curiosity? No.

“Alright then.” She straightened her posture and smiled at Rosie. “Pick something. You have to start somewhere or you’ll never get anywhere.”

He looked unsure for a moment so Billie reassured, “You can ask about anything. I’m an open book with you.” With him she’d be anything he wanted.

After thinking for a moment, staring up at the sky, he hesitantly asked, “How did you end up here? I mean, you normally hear about people running away to join the circus not people running from the circus.” Rosie seemed to be trying not to offend her, it was sweet.

Billie thought for a moment. She reached out to where the edge of the blanket met the grass. She ripped out a couple of blades. “My story is the same as everyone else’s I suppose. I felt like I should help so I did.” She shrugged then elaborated.

“A lot of our performers over the years have been European so I was tracking the war for a while through them. Hearing about what was happening to their homes, their families… I knew it was only a matter of time until we got pulled in.” She took a breath. She wasn’t sure how deep she wanted to get with him. She had said that she would answer anything and Rosie deserved her full truth. “I’d wanted to run away from home my whole life. Growing up in the circus I couldn’t help but want a normal life.” She let out a weak laugh, “You know, for the longest time my dream was to live in one place for longer than three months. How sad is that.”

“But you’ve done that now.” Rosie gestured to the base around then.

“I’ve done that now, you’re right.” She smiled at him, getting lost in his eyes again for a moment. She blinked. “Anyways, Pearl Harbor happened and it was all too real. I realized just how silly the circus is and how pointless my life was there. I wanted to be somewhere where I mattered.” She cleared her throat. “So I saw an advertisement for all the ways women could help the war effort and signed up. Since I had a basic understanding of first aid I felt like nursing was my best chance to do some good.” She laughed at how silly she’d been thinking she would make a good nurse and looked down at the grass in her hands. She stacked the blades together and then ripped them in half. “Plus I figured this way I could see whether or not I can handle the real world. My family wants me to come back after the war but I think I’d like to stay away.”

“You’ve run away once, why would you want to do it again?” Rosie said. He was looking at her like he understood exactly how she was feeling. It was overwhelming.

“Exactly.” She raised her hand to toss the ripped up grass back out onto the ground next to the blanket. Rosie grabbed her hand from the air and Billie gasped. He was certainly forward but Christ, did she not mind.

He lightly traced his finger along the scar on her palm, still red after her activities on the hardstand the day before. His touch gave her goosebumps. She didn’t dare say anything. She was too afraid of spoiling the moment. It seemed like Rosie had taken her hand without considering what he was doing. Billie couldn’t believe that she was really sitting out in the open with Rosie with him caressing her hand. She thought about her hands, her rough skin. The faint calluses that would probably never go away. Her hands weren’t smooth and pretty like the girls Billie figured Rosie was used to. He seemed like the type to fit in with the girls like Rebecca, the smart college girls with everything put together. But he was holding her hand, not Rebecca’s. For a moment Billie imagined what they looked like, sat close together and touching like this. Out in the open where anyone could walk by and see them. People would jump to conclusions. But… would she really mind? She shouldn’t be letting him touch her but he was treating her with a sort of reverence she didn’t think she deserved. She felt special and she wasn’t used to that. He let go of her hand and she slowly brought it back to her lap.

“So were the clown rumors wrong?” Rosie asked.

“Is that what people are saying, that I’m a clown?” Billie laughed loud and bright. “At least there’s not a bet about it, or is there?” She thought for a brief moment then asked, “What did you think I did?”

“I thought you could be anything and everything.”

“That’s not a real answer.” Billie teased. “But it’s funny you would say that because in the end there I really did a bit of everything.” She listed them off on her fingers, “Training, teaching, childcare, cooking, building stages, setting up lighting rigging, horseback riding” she trailed off, thinking. “Growing up in it I had no choice but learn how to fill any possible part that would need it. For the sake of the bet, however,” She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. “I was the best at the trapeze.”

Billie looked up through her eyelashes at Rosie and couldn’t help but smile. He was so pretty up close. How had she avoided him for so long? She cleared her throat and sat back up. “We can pretend I didn’t tell you and you can get in on the bet if you’d like. I won’t even make you split it with me.”

“You’re too kind.” Rosie chuckled. “But there was no bet, don’t you worry about it.” He lightly elbowed Billie in the side as he assured her. She loved the playful teasing. “The trapeze, huh? Flying up in the air?” Rosie asked.

Billie blushed and nodded. She liked the look of awe in Rosie’s eyes. “I used to be in the shows more when I was younger but…” She shook her head to clear out a memory. “But now I’m an understudy and mostly help people train. Or back before the war I did. I’m here with you now.” She loved saying that, with you. She wanted to keep saying it to him. She couldn’t help but want to say it forever.

It was quiet between them for a moment and Billie was struck by how much she didn’t mind the silence. It was comforting simply being around Rosie. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back to try and soak up the warmth from the sun they rarely saw. She was utterly blissed out. She hadn’t been this happy in ages. She felt so safe.

Rosie’s voice pulled her back to reality by asking, “What’s it like, being in the air?”

Billie opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Rosie again. “What do you mean?” She knew what he meant but still joked, “You go up in the air constantly you would know.”

“But not like you. My air is nothing like yours.”

Billie smiled. She looked up at the sky, raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. She considered her answer. “I’d still bet we feel the same. I mean… I don’t know. There’s really nothing quite like it. I think it’s the only place I’ll ever feel free. Everything happens so fast it’s exhilarating.”

The sounds of laughter and cheers, shouts from some game or another comes from over the mess building. Billie thought about seeing Rosie the other day playing and blushed. He was having so much fun it was adorable. She wondered if he missed playing sports.

Rosie seemed to have followed her train of thought because he commented, “You looked like you were having fun yesterday.”

Billie reached her arms out and leaned back to go to her original position of leaning back on her arms but when she put her left hand down it covered two of Rosie’s fingers. Her eyes jumped to his face and met his own eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure what she should do, leave it alone or acknowledge it somehow. She didn’t move, holding her breath. A beat passed, then two. Then Rosie moved his hand from under hers and brought down to fully cover Billie’s instead. She felt her face heat and she looked away from Rosie. But she didn’t move her hand.

“I did have fun yesterday.” She said. “Playing with the kids is always a treat. How about you? How was volleyball? Did it make you miss your athlete days?”

“Now what do you know about my athlete days?” His thumb rubbed the top of her hand. Goosebumps ran up Billie’s arms.

“Just that they happened. That you’re talented.” she couldn’t stop herself. “You’re good with your men, and everyone respects you as they should. They prepared you well for being out here. You’re good at what you do.” she felt like she could go on and on but cut herself off before she got carried away. She desperately didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

His eyes were wide and she was pleased to see a blush on his face. “You’re not the only one who did some asking around, you can’t judge me.” She said.

“No judgement.” He shook his head. “I’m flattered. Relieved.” He gave a weak laugh like he couldn’t believe what was happening to him. “No,” he finally answered. “I don’t miss my days of being a jock. It feels like I’m on a team here in some twisted way.”

“That makes sense. War is a team sport of sorts.” Billie had to admit.

The two settled into a conversation that started with the Yankees then turned to New York and the differences between the city and the countryside they now resided in. Things got quiet between them. The air was filled with sounds of the base around them. Life was moving on forward but for them it was still. Billie and Rosie seemed to be in their own bubble that both hoped would never end. But knew it had to.

Billie looked at her watch and let out a groan. It was time to get moving to the hospital for her shift or else she’d be late. And she couldn’t stand to be late again. She turned to look directly at Rosie with a deep frown on her face.

“I have to get going to work now.”

“Is that the case?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then let’s get you on your way, shall we?”

They stood and worked together to fold up the blanket. Billie held it tightly to her chest. Rosie offered his arm out to her which she took, blushing. At this point she figured her face was just going to stay red whenever she was around Rosie.

They talked as they walked, slower than Billie should’ve but she didn’t have it in her to pick up the pace. Now that she had Rosie she didn’t want to let him go. Selfishly she wanted him all to herself. She wished she could always stay by his side. Obsessed. She was obsessed and needed to calm down. But it was hard when Rosie seemed to be hanging on her every word.

After a brief lull in the conversation Rosie said, “You know, I’ve been hoping I would run into you. I’m glad it’s finally happened.”

Somehow Billie sensed that this was something he was nervous to share. “What do you mean?” She asked.

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” he reasoned, “but when I saw you that night it was like my world stopped. Everything collapsed in on itself until it was just you and me and nothing has ever felt more right to me.”

Billie was astounded. There was no way this was happening. She thought it was just her. But he had felt the same thing. There was no way that something like this could happen to a girl like her.

Rosie continued, “But you were always just out of reach. It felt like you were running away from me for a while. It didn’t make sense how I couldn’t find you, I mean the base isn’t that big.” He let out a self deprecating laugh. “I know it was all in my head, why would you be running away from me? What I mean to say is that I’m glad to be walking with you, talking with you.” He smiled sweetly at her and Billie felt her heart stop. “Thankful that you’re letting me be with you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, really.” Billie quietly insisted.

“You know, for a bit I thought I imagined you. You were such a vision that night you didn’t seem real. You seemed the sort of thing a lonely boy would dream up after a rough mission. But then at the flak house Ron started talking about this nurse who lived with the circus and I knew it had to be you. It couldn’t be anyone else. Once I knew you were real I knew there was nothing for me to worry about.” He patted the hand she had resting on his arm.

Billie was struck by his honesty. She’d never been with a man this open and upfront about how he was feeling. She supposed that when you regularly faced death you stopped holding things back. It was only fair for her to do the same. It was time for her to make a confession. If for no other reason than she felt like she owed it to whatever was happening between them to lean into the honesty.

“I hate to say it, really, but you weren’t imagining anything.” Billie didn’t look at him when she said it.

Now it was his turn to ask, “What do you mean?” Rosie slowed them down but didn’t stop walking.

“I wasn’t running away from you I was just … avoiding situations where we might cross paths.”

Rosie looked shattered. “Why would you do that?”

“You terrify me.” Billie simply said.

At that Rosie brought them to a stop. “I scare you?”

“More than anything else.” Billie felt ridiculous saying it but she had to. “Nothing compares to you, could ever compare to you.” She looked down at her hands. A thought popped into her head that she didn’t want to ask but she couldn’t stop herself. “Why didn’t you chase after me?”

They were about a hundred yards from the hospital. She knew she shouldn’t be having this conversation out where anyone could come up and ruin whatever this was. There were enough people around that it was only a matter of time until someone came and stole Rosie’s attention from her.

“I wasn’t sure how to make ‘we made eye contact once and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since’ not sound creepy and off-putting. So I kept to myself.” he shrugged. “I had this feeling that it would happen eventually so I didn’t try to force it even though I’d hoped it would happen sooner.”

“I know what you mean. Even when I was avoiding you I knew it was pointless. I was only delaying the inevitable.” she shrugged.

“Well we’re here now.” Rosie said.

“Here we are.” Billie agreed.

“Together.” Rosie smiled at her and Billie felt warmed all the way down to her toes.

“Together.” She repeated with a giggle.

“Billie!” June’s voice rang through the air. She was standing in front of the hospital, gesturing to her watch. Billie got the gist. It was time to get moving.

She looked to say goodbye to Rosie but he said, “We never introduced ourselves.”

“Do we have to? We know who we are. Both of us asked around about each other.” Billie thought it was a bit pointless.

“It’s the polite thing to do, come on.” Rosie insisted.

Billie pulled her arm from his and took a step away and turned to face Rosie. She dipped into a quick curtsy then stuck out her hand. “Billie James. Circus runaway. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Rosie took her hand and gave it a firm shake. “Lieutenant Robert Rosenthal, but I’d like it if you called me Rosie.”

“That the only thing you’d like me to call you?” She raised an eyebrow with her lips stretched in a smirk. Rosie blushed but gave back a smile of his own as he matched her energy.

“Oh I’m sure we can figure something else out, just you and me.”

“I’d like that.” Billie said. They were still shaking hands, looking dopily at each other.

“Billie! Let’s go!” June was getting close to being actually upset which was saying something. June tended to be the most even keel of their little group.

She pulled her hand from his and started walking backwards towards the hospital, still facing Rosie. “It was lovely meeting you, Rosie.”

“It was past time, wouldn’t you say?”

“Beyond.” Billie agreed. “Thank you for spending time with me.” She turned before she could hear Rosie’s response. She broke into a light jog then burst through the door as she rushed out apologies to June.

“I’m sorry I lost track of time.”

“I should’ve known it was going to happen when I set him on you.” June reasoned.

“You did this?” Billie never would’ve guessed June would be the type to meddle.

“Yes, you’re welcome, I expect to be a bridesmaid in your wedding. Now get situated. We have more to get done than I thought. I still got you something to eat though.” June gestured to the back closet where they stored any personal things.

“You’re an angel.” Billie gave June a quick hug.

She could tell her friend was stressed and didn’t want to add any more than she already had, so Billie snapped to it and got right to work. June was right, there were enough patients and projects to keep her busy well into the shift. It wasn’t until she had a brief moment to eat some of the food June had gotten from the mess hall that she thought about Rosie. Or rather let herself keep thinking about Rosie. She didn’t think it was possible for her to stop thinking about Rosie. Nothing felt real. But it was.

#masters of the air #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fic #rosie rosenthal x oc #masters of the air oc #i posted a very early version of this a couple weeks ago that i don't think anyone read but if you did shhhhh no you didn't #feeling some type of way posting this please be nice it's been so long since i've written anything #rosiegirlie writes

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mercurygray · 2 months

Note

I know you said you were feeling your MotA girls, but maybe #28 turn the page for Molly and Rosie, please. Only if you're feeling it. Thank you!

The last time he'd been here, he'd been bombing the place.

Nuremberg certainly looked different from the ground, though the sight of so many crumbling houses and rubble strewn streets wasn't enough to change how Rosie felt about anything he'd done for the last three years. War was war and war was hell, and that was all there was to say about that. They were at the end of it now, and they would move forward.

The address he'd been sent to find was a still-standing warehouse - something of a marvel in this city filled with ruins. A soldier outside nodded in greeting, and he instinctively opened his wallet to show his pass, the official ID card they'd given him for the Palace of Justice.

"I'm looking for Sergeant Mahoney. I was told I'd be able to get a tour."

The soldier nodded him inside, and in he went, facing down huge racks of crates that seemed to go on for miles.

A woman was standing next to a desk, clipboard in hand. She was wearing a very beat-up field jacket and what looked to be jump trousers, her pockets baggy with extra equipment. Rosie suddenly wished he'd brought his bomber jacket, and not the wool overcoat that made him look like - well, a lawyer. (At least he'd left the briefcase back at the hotel.)

"Are you Sergeant Mahoney?"

She looked up from the clipboard. "I was told I might expect a Major Rosenthal this morning. Are you him?"

Rosie wished again for the jacket. "It's just Mister, actually, Sergeant. I officially got out of the army a few months ago."

What she thought about that he really couldn't tell - she was studying him with a long and patient look. "They told me you were a pilot - a rather good one."

Rosie tried to bite back a smile about what counted as 'rather good' after 52 combat missions and a list of awards so long even he couldn't remember what they all were. "It has been said."

That was what made her smile. "Most pilots wouldn't let you forget that."

He shrugged and smiled. "I'm not most pilots, Sergeant."

She nodded. "Well, Major. What would you like to see? I have a wide variety of Europe's finest all at your disposal. What's your fancy? Landscapes? Pastorals? Portraits? Sculpture? A favorite artist I can find for you?"

It sounded overwhelming, less like a museum and more like the private tour he wasn't sure he wanted. He couldn't say, exactly, what had brought him here, but it wasn't that - the mindless acquisition. "I didn't come to see anything in particular. Just mentioned I wanted to get out of the office for a bit and they sent me here. Show me ...show me your favorite, Sergeant."

She looked at him for a moment before giving half a smile. "All right."

"So how does a museum curator find herself in Europe?" He asked, trying to be collegial as she walked him down a long aisle, boots echoing in the half-dark.

"Not a curator," she corrected. "I'm an archeologist. I had a brother at Pearl. Joined the WAC after…you know." She turned to look at him, hardly breaking a long stride. "How does a lawyer get into the business of flying airplanes?"

"He decides he doesn't like bullies. How does an archeologist decide she wants to jump out of them?" He pointed to the patch on her jacket, the Airborne patch she still hadn't removed from her shoulder. "Screaming Eagles is a paratrooper outfit, isn't it?"

Another smile - a real one, this time. "She decides she doesn't like bullies either. And the pay's pretty good. After we got all the way to Germany they decided they could use someone like me and I stayed on here." She checked the number on the end of a shelf, counted in a few boxes, and removed a frame from the shelf, pulling it down and setting it onto the floor. "Well. Here we are, Major. This is my favorite."

The painting in question was a portrait, done in a plain, workaday style - a simple head-up view of a woman with a reddish cast to her hair, wearing a black dress and a string of pearls. The pearls gleamed from the canvas, easily the most noticeable thing about the piece. Rosie wasn't much of an art critic but nothing about this was ringing any bells. "Anyone I should know?

"Nope. Artist is unknown," Mahoney said with a vague smile. "I don't know what her name is, either. I've been calling her Ruth, after a friend of mine. We've got all sorts in this warehouse - Rembrandts and silver that belonged to the Rothschilds. And we have a hell of a lot of this - bits of people's lives that they'll never get back. She's not important on her own - but she's...she's someone's wife, or sister, or aunt. She's important to someone. There's a note on the back about the framer - that'll give me a town to start in. Maybe I can get her home." She gave a long hard look at the painting, her gaze thoughtful. "I spent…eighteen months taking away lives, and now I get to give them back."

And isn't that why I'm here, too, he thought silently. A warehouse full of treasures, and she shows me this. Most curators wouldn't let you forget what they've got.

But she's not a curator. "Sergeant, are you free this evening?" He asked suddenly. She looked up. "I'd like to take you to dinner, if I may."

She let out a surprised laugh. "I'm not sure that would be regulation, sir. Sergeants can't be seen out to dinner with Majors."

"We could start with you dropping the Major and calling me Rosie."

Another smile - wider this time, like she was turning a page on something, letting it come into full view. "Oh, so you're that Rosenthal." The way she said it made him smile - she'd known the whole time, and was just stringing him along to test him. The desire for dinner increased.

"I did say I wasn't like the other pilots," he offered with a shrug. "Should we say...six o'clock? I promise I'll do a better job of blending in."

'Not too good a job," she said with a smile that charmed him entirely. "I'm not sure I can be seen out with a pilot, either."

Molly Mahoney joins us from The Darkening Sky where she is a paratrooper, an academic, a memoirist, and somehow usually always in the middle of an argument about ethics.

#i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #molly mahoney #rosie rosenthal x oc #masters of the air oc #tds cinematic universe #with apologies to phillis

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cetaitlaverite · 13 days

Text

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

link to the masterlist is here

02. You Were Going to Fall

Days passed and Freddie managed successfully to keep out of Rosie’s way. Really, it wasn’t a problem at all trying to avoid him. Instead, the problem was in trying to avoid talking about him with Millie.

“Fred,” Millie would venture whenever Freddie was distracted with something else. Often, this happened to be when they were all preparing to send a set of crews out on a mission.

“Yes?” Freddie would answer, fiddling with the frequency of the radio to get it as clear as she could.

Satisfied that she’d caught Freddie sufficiently unawares, Millie would pretend nonchalance and ask, “Why didn’t you stay to chat with Rosie the other night?”

Mercifully, Millie hadn’t tried to mention it yet today. The crews had all gone out, Rosie’s among them, and Freddie had been certain that when Millie overheard her and realised she was talking to Rosie over the radio that she’d say something. But she hadn’t. Warily, Freddie had started to let her shoulders drop from their requisite position by her ears.

Rookie mistake. Millie always knew how to lure her into a false sense of security only to catch her off her guard.

“Fred, what do you think of Rosie?” Millie wondered, and Freddie groaned from her position staring at the ceiling while spinning in circles on her chair.

Sitting up straight, Freddie pushed some sweaty hair off of her forehead - the humidity was killer today - and smoothed over the disarray of her curls. She eyed Millie with both suspicion and curiosity while tugging the sleeves of her blouse back up her arms, hoping some sort of breeze might swoop in at some point and offer a reprieve from the heat to every bit of skin she put on show. If it didn’t cool down soon, she thought she’d have to start undoing buttons, a last resort since her jacket and the jackets of everyone else had long since come off.

“Why do you want to know?” Freddie asked eventually.

Millie shrugged and made a show of hemming and hawing. “Oh, you know…”

Freddie rolled her eyes. “Just ask him, Mils.”

At this, Millie dropped her act and raised her eyebrows. “What?”

Freddie let out a breathy laugh. “Mils,” she began, with all the patience of a mother doing her best to reassure her child that the dentist really wasn’t that scary, “you’re gorgeous. This isn’t news to you. You’ve already got half the pilots and their crews chasing your skirt. More to the point, you’re smart, you’re kind, you’re funny, and you’re loyal. You’re quite literally any man’s dream. So once he lands and we’re off the clock, go find Rosie and ask him if he’ll save you a dance, or ask him if he’ll take you out some time - or, if you’re that worried about it, ask him if he’ll buy you a drink. I can assure you the only answer to come out of his mouth will be ‘yes’.”

Millie didn’t speak for a few moments. Her eyes were fixed steadfast on Freddie, her eyebrows furrowed, her hands still in her lap.

Freddie stared back at her for a moment, waiting for a response, before she decided she wasn’t going to get one. She offered Millie an encouraging smile and leaned back in her chair again, tilting her head back until she was gazing at the ceiling and then using her feet to twirl herself around and around and around.

The ceiling above Freddie was painted a faded white and dented. And, somehow, dirty. It looked as though it was tea stained, though it couldn’t have been, because how would tea have gotten on the ceiling? The dark marks and tea staining blurred together as Freddie spun herself faster and faster in her chair, seeing how fast she could go, until a hand slammed down harshly on the backrest and jammed her to an abrupt halt. Only then did Freddie notice that two of the four prongs holding the chair to the ground had come off of it.

“You were going to fall,” Millie explained, firmly tipping the chair back down before retaking her seat across from Freddie.

“Yes,” Freddie acknowledged. Though she wasn’t sure why Millie wasn’t laughing about it. Paddy and Amy, from the other end of the room, certainly were - calling over teasing insults about clumsiness and needing to rest.

Millie ignored them. She stared back at Freddie steadily for a moment, and then she started, strangely and inexplicably, to smile. “You think I fancy Rosie,” she said.

Now it was Freddie’s eyebrows which furrowed. “You do fancy Rosie,” she replied.

Millie laughed a little bit. “Well, I won’t argue that he’s handsome. But I’m not interested in him for me, Fred, I’m interested in him for you.”

Freddie frowned. She didn’t know what to say. Instead, she turned her eyes out of the window and watched the grass swaying in the gentle breeze which was the only reprieve from the stifling heat. How desperately she longed to be outside right now. Lying in the itchy grass, the sun warm and calming on her skin, bright even behind closed eyelids, while the breeze cooled the sweat on the rest of her. She’d fold her jacket up behind her head and take her shoes off, scrunch up the grass between her toes, and lie there until evening came and it was time for dinner.

“Fred,” Millie prompted when she hadn’t replied.

“Yes?”

“What do you think of Rosie?” she pressed, repeating the question which had started this whole conversation. Indeed, which had started this enduring conversation which had spanned the entirety of the four days since the night Freddie had first become aware of Rosie’s existence.

Freddie chewed contemplatively on her bottom lip, still gazing out of the window. She tracked fluffy white clouds across the blue expanse of the sky while she whittled away at the stubborn block of her thoughts, chipping at what she knew were half-hearted lies until she reached the truth waiting beneath the surface.

It took a lot for Freddie not to lie just then. But she didn’t want to lie to Millie, not really. Millie, after all, had never lied to her.

“I think,” Freddie began, mustering her courage, “that Rosie is lovely. I just also think that he’s not Daniel.”

Millie didn’t say anything for a moment. But she rolled her chair across the floor until she was sitting at Freddie’s desk with her and rested her head on Freddie’s shoulder. “Does he have to be?” she wondered quietly.

“No,” Freddie conceded, resting her own head on Millie’s. “No one will ever be Daniel again, not even Daniel. But I am not a single woman -”

“Yes, you are, Freddie,” Millie cut her off. Her voice was firm but not harsh, the voice of a friend who wanted nothing but the best for her. “It’s rotten, what happened to Daniel. Really, really rotten. But you still have a life to live.”

Freddie stared resolutely at the grass, at the peace outside of the window. She willed her voice not to wobble when she spoke. “I had my chance at love -”

“You’re twenty-three years old!” Millie exclaimed. She realised a beat too late how loud she’d projected her voice and made a desperate attempt to divert everyone’s attention back to their own conversations. Once assured they weren’t being eavesdropped, Mille went on, quieter, “You’re a young woman with your life all ahead of you, Freddie. You have love left in you, I know you do - I see it every time you take one of the new girls under your wing, every time you stick up for me or Jem when one of the lads is getting too forward again. And I saw it in your eyes when you were with Rosie.”

“Rosie is a good man,” Freddie said softly. She turned her face and pressed a kiss to the top of Millie’s head, in spite of the sweat sparkling on the gold of her curls. “You deserve a man like that, who’ll look at you like you make the sun shine and hang on to every word you say, even when they’re dreadfully boring.”

“Rosie was looking at you like that,” Millie pointed out.

“Daniel used to look at me like that,” Freddie countered.

“I’m sure he did,” Millie reassured her. “I’m sure he thought you were the most wonderful person who ever set foot on the earth, because he would have been stupid not to think so. But I’m also sure that there are other people out there who could use a heart like yours to give their love to. You have so much of it to give, Fred. You care about people so deeply. But don’t let the people you cared about and lost stop you from finding new people to adore.”

Freddie let out a choked little laugh. “I’ve spoken to Rosie once.”

“It doesn’t have to be Rosie,” Millie reasoned with a quiet laugh of her own. “You just have to be open to it. If someone asks you to dance and you think he’s handsome - and, of course, if you think he deserves it - then say yes. Just try it. One dance doesn’t mean you’re getting married.”

“I haven’t danced with a man since Daniel.”

“Maybe you should,” Millie told her gently. “This war has been so long already. How much longer will it be - how much longer will the rest of your life be - without dancing?”

Freddie contemplated these words for much of the following hours. She contemplated them when the first signs of life started to pick up on the radio and she was in contact first with the radio operators and then the pilots of the various crews. She contemplated them once everyone was safely landed and the other girls were discussing going to the officers’ club to celebrate, and continued to contemplate them as she let Jem do her hair while she focused on her makeup.

The officers’ club was quiet when they got there. Only the American Red Cross girls were here so far. The men, probably, had only recently gotten out of interrogation and were resting before forcing themselves into dress uniforms just so they could have a drink.

There would be no band playing tonight - not on a Thursday, and not right after a mission. Considering the band was composed of the crews, it would be cruel to force them into it. So, while it was quiet and the gramophone volume wasn’t dialled all the way up for dancers, Freddie excused herself and crossed the room to take her place at the piano.

It wasn’t all that often that she played these days. She hadn’t learnt anything new since leaving home. But, once, she’d loved to play the piano more than she’d loved to dance, which was saying something, because once upon a time she’d really loved to dance. Now, it was a rare occasion, when she was feeling brave or feeling distracted and needed something to channel her energy into, that she even let herself get close.

But tonight - tonight Freddie wasn’t sure whether it was brave or distracted she was feeling. Perhaps a mixture of both. Millie’s pleas from earlier were still poking around in the depths of her mind, irritating her with their insistence, but the night was breezy, the stars were bright, and Millie had been right to remind her that she was young. She would never be this young again. She had a whole life ahead of her, one that she’d hardly been living for a year and a half, and what would Daniel have given to have had all that time to waste?

Well, he wouldn’t have wasted it, this much she knew to be true. If nothing else, her Daniel lived life like he was daring someone to take it from him. It was just a shame that someone had. More than a shame. A tragedy. The earth had lost one of its brightest sparks when it had lost Daniel Brookings, but the stars had gained one of theirs.

The music flowed freely from beneath Freddie’s fingertips. The song she’d chosen without really thinking about it - Ave Verum Corpus by Mozart and Liszt - was one of the first she’d properly been able to play as a child when she’d still been learning. She’d liked it back then because it felt bright and twinkly, like snowflakes and fairies and princesses being twirled around grand ballrooms. Now, it felt lonely; isolated notes plucked one after another reminded her more of a biting cold than a pretty one, the startling realisation that the magic of childhood was over, a cavernous, empty room that should have been filled with couples dancing but instead was filled with silence.

When she finished she released her breath. At some point she’d sucked it in and held it there. Her fingers hovered over the keys for one beat, two, and then a voice from over by the bar called, “Again!”

Freddie’s eyes shot up and she laughed when she found Benny grinning at her, the source of the heckling.

“Something a little happier this time, though, Fred, alright?” added Bucky with a conspiratorial wink in her direction.

Freddie inclined her head at him in acceptance of this request and started to play something lighter, faster, more optimistic. Her fingers had to work hard - it had been a while since she’d given them such a workout - but the pleased cheer she was rewarded with made it worth it.

From across the room, Rosie sat, mesmerised, as Freddie played her song. Her eyebrows were furrowed ever so slightly in concentration, her eyes shut as she let her hands tell her where the music needed to go, and there was a light flush high in her cheeks which his eyes kept getting stuck on. There was something about her in that moment, he thought, which was pure magic. She’d been lovely the night he’d first met her, when she’d been flushing at all the attention and frowning at her friends just as much as she’d been smiling at them, with those dimples in her cheeks and the warmth in her eyes. But now she was breathtaking, so lost in her beautiful music she couldn’t find the time to filter her facial expressions before she let them show.

“You should talk to her,” said someone seated behind him. Rosie only had to turn halfway to meet Millie’s eyes, since he’d been sitting sideways in his chair, faced away from his table and the crew seated at it so Freddie would be in his direct line of sight over at the piano.

“She, uh, didn’t seem all that willing to talk to me the other night,” Rosie confessed to Millie, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Millie nodded, smiling softly. “She’ll tell you why someday, I think. But tonight, don’t ask her about that. Ask her to dance.”

Rosie considered this for a moment, along with the advice Millie had given him those few nights ago when he’d first laid his eyes on Freddie. “You just need to be patient with our Fred.” He may have had his flaws, but patience wasn’t one of them. And watching Freddie now, with her eyes closed and her lips pursed, presumably humming along to the tune she was playing, he thought if anyone was worth waiting for it must have been her.

Turning to Millie, Rosie opened his mouth to tell her that he was going to go and ask but was cut off by Millie in her enthusiasm. “Ask her!” she insisted, tugging on his sleeve.

“Alright!” Rosie replied, mimicking her tone and grinning. He tugged his sleeve out of her grip pointedly before finishing his beer in one big gulp - liquid courage - and rising to his feet. “Gentlemen,” he said to his crew, inclining his head at them.

Pappy smiled around a sip of his beer and raised his hand in a salute.

Rosie laughed and rolled his eyes before starting across the empty dance floor towards Freddie.

#my writing #mota #watm #masters of the air #hbo war #masters of the air x oc #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction #rosie rosenthal fanfic #rosie rosenthal fanfiction

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thesullengrrrl · 7 days

Text

We'll Meet Again

When retired time traveler Elaine Byrne accidentally goes back to 1941, she meets Robert Rosenthal on the eve of his enlistment.

Author's note: I wrote this fic few weeks ago and I only now had the guts to post it here in Tumblr. Thank you to the lovely people who read and commented my work in AO3. If you prefer to read there, I got you...here's the link. I've not written for a long time, so I hope you will enjoy this. Thank you! ❤️

Chapter 1

For the past three years, Elaine Byrne avoided being alone in dark enclosed spaces or visualizing vivid sceneries with her eyes closed. Whenever she feels bad about life, she smokes in the nearest smoking area or writes it down in her journal.

However, this time it was different.

This time she forgot that she’s not supposed to go inside the restaurant’s cold room on her own. It was Friday and the chef was chewing her ear off over a wrong order. Her energy was already depleted and all she wants to do is go home. Almost instinctively, she went straight to the cold room to shed some tears.

As she walked back to the dining area, faint jazz music could be heard. It grew louder as she continued on, and Elaine does not remember a band being hired that night. A male waiter almost bumped into her, half-shouting, “Hey! You can’t be here!” She took note of his uniform. It was a shirt with a bow tie, black pants and a white apron covering half his pants.

The sight of her destination surprised her.

It was the same dining area, with stage and piano in it, except that the people now are wearing clothing from a bygone time. Men were in suits, women in knee length dresses with slightly defined shoulders. The upholstery and furniture are no longer the same color. The air was filled with smoke and the smell of alcohol and sweat made her gag a little.

She has done it again. The very activity she avoided for the past three years. With this realization, she went to the bathroom and luckily, it’s still in the same place where she remembered it.

Picking the last sink in a row, she opened the faucet, and splashed some water on her face. When she finally faced the mirror, her mouth fell open. Besides from the water droplets falling from her face, her makeup is not her usual. She now has a redder lip and defined eyebrows. Her brown hair is now curled and pinned in ways she would never do.

She took some paper towels on the side and dabbed her face in it. This time, Elaine took a longer moment to observe the image in the mirror. Aside from the makeup, she finally noticed her change of clothing. No longer in her trusty vested white polo and black slacks, but now she’s donning a dark red dress with slightly puffed sleeves and triangular cut outs on the collar. It was slightly figure hugging, which highlighted her curves that were often lost in her waitress uniform. Elaine held up her hand and touched the mirror’s surface. It’s me. This makes me feel like Peggy Carter minus the combat skills.

She was about to go when she heard heels clicking towards her direction. For some reason, she locked herself in one of the stalls and someone started sniffing and a vague ‘There, There’ could be heard.

“Oh Mabel,” a high pitched voice said. “At least he let you down gently and did not lead you on. You know Beth in Accounting? Her man just left her without a word!”

“That’s because he’s just feeling sorry for me!” Mabel cried. “I already thought about the wedding we could’ve had, Jo.”

Jo audibly sighed. “Mabel, you know you were only seeing him for three weeks, right?”

“He’s dreamy and nice! A lawyer! And my cat even likes him!”

Mabel’s own statement made her cry even more.

“I know, but at least he let you down gently. He has a point. You don’t have to wait around for him anymore,” Jo comforted.

The two women she was eavesdropping kept quiet for a little after that. Then she heard the faucet running and paper towels being ripped off. A few clinking more and she heard someone exhale loudly.

“Are you ready to say goodbye?” Jo asked.

A sniff. “Okay, let’s go, Jo.”

“That’s more like it,” Jo replied. Their heels started clicking away from the bathroom. Elaine waited for a minute or two just to make sure they weren’t coming back and she emerged from her stall.

She gazed at the mirror one last time and exited. Inhaling the strong scents of tobacco and alcohol, she scouted for a place to sit in. It was hard to see who’s sitting alone or not at first glance, so she slowly dragged her feet, hoping for the one.

Instinctively, she touched her side and thanked the heavens for its pockets. She reached in and instead of a phone, she felt a small notepad, a pencil and coins. Helpful .

Finally, she saw her target.

The one was a lone, mustachioed man with a half-empty glass of beverage in front of him. He seemed to be in deep thought while his fingers were tapping the table in tune with what was being played on stage. He looks nice. Taking a deep breath, Elaine strode towards his table and pulled a chair beside him. He was startled with the sound of chair legs against the floor.

“What–”

“Hi there,” Elaine greeted, flashing her best smile. “Great night?”

“It was until I heard the news,” the man replied. She was about to ask what was the news but he beat her to it.

“The Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.”

“Oh, that’s what it is,” Elaine realized. “A woman in the bathroom was crying because her boyfriend was enlisting.”

The information made the man perk up and turned to her. “Was she blonde? In a purple dress?”

“I don’t know. I was hiding in one of the stalls.”

This amused the man beside her. “What? Why were you hiding?”

“I was having a moment, then I heard them come in. They were coming in fast, click click click, so I hid. Then someone started crying and I didn't want to intrude, so I stayed there.” Elaine explained.

“‘They’?” he asked.

“Yeah. Two women. Jo and Mabel,” she shared.

“Ah, yes. They were with me earlier. Mabel wanted to go home, so I guess it’s official now.”

Elaine scrunched up her nose. “Ah, that sucks, man. Too bad her cat loves you.”

“Hmmm. Yeah, Mr. Giggles.”

“Although,” she started. “You do know you could be in a relationship while overseas, right?”

He shook his head. “I can’t afford to have any distractions. And I don’t want life to pass her by because she was waiting for me. What if I never return?”

“What if you do?” she countered. “Have a little faith.”

“How do you know that?”

She kept quiet, feeling like his question was rhetorical. He has a point. When he’s on the battlefield, the chances of him coming back are slim to none.

As the band played another tune, the upcoming war entered her mind. This man is enlisting in the army tomorrow to fight Nazis. Jesus Christ, what was the closest thing she could experience to that? The thing that came to her mind was nothing compared to going to war on the other side of the world.

“Oh well. You’ll meet other women,” she assured him. Then she proceeded to scan his appearance. “You’re tall, handsome, and that pornstache would definitely rake in the girls.”

“Porn-what?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

Elaine closed her eyes at her words. Her hand went to her head, scrunching her eyes to think of what to say. Of course, the day she dreaded finally came. The day where her weird attraction to 70s mustaches will be her downfall.

“Never mind. It’s your mustache,” she corrected, motioning his face. “And those baby blue eyes? Ridiculous.”

Her companion was about to answer when a blond man came to their table.

“Good evening, Miss.”

It took her a moment to realize that a man standing on their table was referring to her. She smiled at him. The man she was with eyed the stranger with suspicion. “Hello there.”

“The tune’s pretty swell, can I dance with you? Miss…?”

Elaine scanned the man’s appearance. He was tall and thin with wide shoulders and almost white hair. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties. Who are you supposed to be, Draco Malfoy?

“I’m Elaine,” she introduced. You are?”

“Albert.”

For a moment, her mission of attempting to know which year she was in felt futile. What’s a little dancing when you’re time traveling? Without taking a second look to her companion, she nodded and took the man’s hand and made their way to the dance floor. With their hands on their proper positions, they started swaying to the music.

They were having a nice conversation until the guy started to lean in for a kiss. She managed to avoid this and his lips landed on her cheek. The reek of alcohol from his mouth made her wince. She gave him a fake smile, hoping that all of this will be over soon. They swayed once again, but this time she felt his hand moving from the small of her back to her butt and grabbed it.

Her eyes widened and pushed him away. This made a mini domino effect on the other couples on the dance floor, earning them weird looks and glares.

“Back off,” Elaine warned.

This did not deter him and took it as a challenge instead.

“Aww, baby, you’re feisty. I like that,” Albert taunted, cornering her like a prey.

Elaine took short breaths to calm herself, her right hand slowly turning into a fist.

Suddenly, a loud thud of falling tables was heard. The music stopped.

“Fight! Fight!”

He rushed where the scream was. He was observing her in a distance to somewhat guard her, as if she was someone he needed to look after. The man she was dancing with did not seem trustworthy enough for him, especially when he saw his companions laugh at them for some reason.

The blond man was bleeding out of his nose while she was grunting in pain.

“Fuck you!” Elaine yelled.

He went to her and took her hand. “What happened?”

“That asshole,” Elaine growled, pointing to the man on the floor, “was feeling me up!”

A small crowd gathered where they were. One older man lunged at Elaine’s curly haired companion and started throwing punches. He missed and continued pursuing. Elaine jumped into the brawl, attempting to break them apart. Few patrons, probably thrilled with this sudden turn, dove in as well, unknown whether to pull her out of the commotion or punch the other guy.

It continued on for a few minutes until someone blew a whistle.

The crowd departed and it revealed a portly, semi-bald man with a whistle hanging on his neck.

“WHAT ON EARTH IS HAPPENING HERE?” he roared. Those in the brawl slowly detached themselves from each other. Everyone was in varying degrees of bleeding and pain, most especially that man who felt up Elaine.

The portly manager glared at all of them then his eyes filled with recognition. “Robert? Is that you, boy?”

Elaine looked at who he was referring to.

It was the lonely, mustachioed man who broke up with Mabel. His name is Robert.

He does look like a Robert, Elaine thought. The carefully gelled curly hair, neat mustache, smell of manly perfume with hints of tobacco and alcohol…It’s like she was transported to a 1940s movie with Cary Grant as the lead star and she’s the fast-talking femme fatale.

“Minty!" Robert smiled and shook hands with the man as if there were no two slightly injured persons in front of them. The manager pulled him from the floor and when they stood up, he towered over Minty.

“Minty, I’m so sorry about the mess. This guy made moves on my friend and she just defended herself. I had to jump in,” he explained.

“Picking fights already? Save some for those Nazis!” Minty exclaimed. He snapped his fingers and two broad men appeared. He ordered the troublemakers to be taken outside the club.

Robert only smiled sheepishly. Minty seemed charmed by this and asked both of them to follow him. Elaine looked at him suspiciously. “Where are we going?”

“I know him, don’t worry,” he assured her.

The trio entered a small office. The walls were painted red and there was a sturdy table that is the main piece of the room. It has a matching leather chair behind it and several crates of alcohol stacked up to the ceiling. Papers are haphazardly piled up and a clothes rack near the window. It felt like a claustrophobic’s nightmare.

“Sit down, sit down, kids,” Minty motioned to the two leather chairs in front of the table. The two sat and Elaine’s eyes laid at the calendar hanging behind Minty.

DECEMBER 1941

Ah, fuck. Wrong guess! All of the numbers on the first row were crossed except for number seven. They watched Minty pour three glasses of whiskey (or scotch?) and gave them one each.

“What’s your name, doll?”

“I’m Elaine. Elaine Byrne.”

“So, how did the two of you meet?” Minty asked, eyeing the two of them.

“Um–” Elaine started. Robert covered her hand and started talking.

“We only met tonight. Mabel stormed out when she found out I was enlisting. Told her I don’t want her waiting for me while I fight.”

Minty nodded in understanding. “I wouldn’t take it away from Rosie to meet a girl after breaking up with one!”

Elaine glanced at the two men curiously.

“Why is that, Minty?” she questioned. “Is Rosie here a player?”

This made Rosie blush a little. Minty shook his head.

“No, doll, he’s a lawyer! He sweet talks for a living!”

Elaine turned to her companion. “A lawyer, huh? Interesting.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rosie confirmed. “Although, I don’t sweet talk anyone, Minty.”

“Tell that to anyone who would listen, Rosie.”

“Why is he called Rosie?” Elaine wondered, looking at Minty. “Is it the rosy cheeks?”

“Ah, it’s because of his surname. Rosenthal. Only friends and family are allowed. That’s why I only called him that in here,” Minty informed her.

Elaine listened to the two men catch up with their lives. Rosie confirmed his enlistment tomorrow, and Minty seemed to be worried about his young friend. Rosie is a strapping young man of twenty-four and Minty said that America joining the war will be a bloodbath.

“I will be fighting for my people and country, Minty,” Rosie solemnly reasoned. “These people we will be protecting, they can’t fight for themselves, can they?”

“You seem like you made up your mind quite fast,” Minty observed. Rosie only nodded.

The three of them sat in silence. Elaine was feeling a bit uncomfortable with it, so she downed the glass of amber liquid given to her. She coughed a little, for she rarely drinks this type of liquor. Call her childish, but she would rather sit happily with her colorful drinks with an umbrella in it than pretend to be like Don Draper. “What is it, whiskey?”

“Scotch,” the older man confirmed. “Too strong for you?”

Elaine agreed. “Yeah.”

When she finished the drink, Rosie stood up. “We better be going now, Mint.”

“Say hi to your mother for me,” Minty told Rosie. He nodded.

“Thank you for the scotch,” Elaine said, waving Minty goodbye. The two made their way back to the dining hall. They did not see Minty smiling at the sight of them.

The band was playing something more slow, and the atmosphere felt like no brawl happened. However, it felt more somber. Maybe it’s the music that the band was playing. The dance floor seemed shinier, the lights dimmer, and couples are dancing closer than ever. It was probably the news of the Pearl Harbor attack that made them rethink the time they have.

For them, it’s only the beginning.

For Elaine, it’s only looking at the past at a closer look. Beyond the bigger picture that history books offer. She is no longer reading these big events in a book, but the individuals that will soon be affected by this attack.

For a night, she’s one of them.

Rosie was observing her as she watched the dance floor. Her hair is still quite a mess after the brawl and yet, the out-of-place hair strands seemed to be framing her face instead. She seemed oblivious to any of the music being played, but then maybe she’s not a fan of jazz and prefers something else.

This strange, pretty woman felt like trouble. Minutes within meeting her, and he was already fighting in a brawl for her. He never did that to any girl he went out with. He felt guilty about what happened between him and Mabel and maybe he’ll think about it tomorrow still.

But he cannot deny wanting to get to know Elaine more after tonight.

“Let’s dance, Rosie,” Elaine invited, extending her hand to him. Rosie gazed at her hand, thought about it, and took it. She pulled him into the dance floor, slightly squeezing in among the sea of couples. He placed his hands on its proper positions and she did the same. Slowly, they swayed along, closer than ever.

“Is it okay if I call you Rosie? Minty said only friends and family are allowed to call you that,” she wondered aloud.

“You’re already calling me Rosie anyway, so go ahead.”

“What were you thinking about earlier?”

“When?”

“When I asked you to dance, you’re deep in thought. Any thoughts you want to share?”

He sighed. “You won’t let this go, won’t you?”

“Nope,” she smiled. “I want to hear it.”

“I was thinking about what you said. That maybe I’ll come back from the war alive? Have a little faith?”

Elaine glanced at her side, suddenly feeling shy. She was only trying to encourage him to take a chance on romance during the war. She did not realize he would pick on it and discuss it further.

“Well, going to war alone seemed like a sad thing to do. Sure, it might be invigorating for you as a man, getting in combat and all, but what happens when you’re all alone in some trench?” Elaine explained.

“I can write letters home,” he reasoned.

“But can you share what you’ll see in the field with them?”

“I can’t share it with my imaginary girlfriend either, Elaine.”

With no answer to give him anymore, she rolled her eyes. Rosie caught it and found it endearing.

“Speechless? No rebuttal?” Rosie challenged.

“Shut up, Robert.”

“So it’s Robert now when I annoy you?” he teased.

“Yes, Robert,” she pointed out, trying to hide a grin.

Rosie pulled her a little closer and she felt his hands get a little sweaty. She tried not to chuckle, but her body reacted before it was too late. The band played another new song, and when she glanced at him, she watched him mouth the words.

“Do you know this song?” she asked.

“We’ll Meet Again,” he replied, looking down at her.

“I doubt that, Rosie.”

Rosie chuckled at her. “Silly. I mean, it’s the title. We’ll Meet Again.”

She rested her head at his chest, once again embarrassed by her blunder. “Oh god. I’ve been just an embarrassing person all night, am I?”

“This is the most interesting night I’ve had for a while. Don’t worry about it,” he assured her.

She only nodded. She took in his scent, and wondered if he noticed it. I hope he didn’t. But maybe he did. My inhale was pretty obvious. As the song went on, Elaine thought of why she is here at this very moment. She could’ve been back in Minton’s by now by going back where she came from—in the cold room.

Instead, she stayed and now slow dancing with a man she just met.

Elaine stopped time traveling on purpose three years ago. It was once an exciting thing to discover at eighteen, but now at twenty-six, it felt like an unhealthy coping mechanism. She made mistakes on those travels and made her run away from her life. She stayed far too long in some places and saw the consequences blow right up to her face.

However, tonight, she did not time travel on purpose.

And there must be a reason why it happened.

The song finished and everyone clapped. Rosie and Elaine removed their hands from each other and joined the crowd. Backing away from the dance floor, they sat in an empty booth.

As she stared at Rosie, she knew she had to go home. Rosie felt her eyes at him and they spent a good few seconds memorizing each other’s details, like taking a photograph. Elaine took in his blue eyes and the styled curly mop of hair, while Rosie gazed at her hazel green eyes and a small scar on her forehead. She wondered how it would appear if not styled with sticky gel. Rosie blushed a little at the intensity of her gaze, smiling shyly at her. Elaine chuckled at how ridiculous and romantic it all must have looked like.

A gentleman with a big camera managed to capture this romantic scene. The blinding flash surprised the two, making them jump in their seats. The bulb was still smoking.

“I’ll send it to Minty once it’s developed!” the man with a camera said. “You’re one good looking couple!”

“That’s one big camera,” Elaine observed. “That flash almost blinded me!”

He laughed at her observation. “Will they ever make a flash bulb less blinding?”

“I don’t think so,” she answered, smiling.

They settled for a moment and Rosie waved at a waiter. The waiter was quick at his feet and reached them. However, Elaine grabbed his arm to stop him. “I need to go home now.”

“Oh, is that so?” he asked, a slight disappointment in his tone. The waiter seemed to sense this and looked at Elaine. She lifted her head to dismiss him, which the waiter did.

“Yeah, it’s quite late and I’m on opening shift,” she reasoned. It was true though.

“If that’s the case, I’ll take you home,” he declared. “Where do you live?”

He can’t take you home! You don’t live in 1941, girl!

“Just a few blocks away, but I’ll be fine. I’ll walk.”

He looked at her with disbelief. “Elaine, I’ll walk you home. Or at least call you a cab. You can’t walk by yourself at this hour after what happened.”

“I can. I can throw in a punch, you know.”

“Elaine, no.”

The way Rosie said her name made her melt a little. That deep dulcet tone with a hint of concern (or was it disappointment with hardheadedness) made her rethink about her decision to leave. One more drink can’t hurt, right?

“Fine. But first, I need to go to the ladies’ room,” she said.

“All right. I’ll wait here.”

Elaine made her way to the ladies’ room, her heart beating so fast it’s the only thing she could hear. This is the moment she leaves him. It has to be. Damn that dulcet voice for making her doubt. When she reached the ladies’ room, she took the notepad and pencil inside her pocket and quickly scribbled. After that, she folded it neatly and got out. She waved to the same passing waiter who almost took their order earlier.

“Yes, ma’am?” the waiter said.

“Can you pass this to the gentleman with the mustache?” she requested, pointing him to Rosie who was chatting with an elderly man.

“You mean Rosie? No problem, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. When the waiter was out of sight, she made her way to the turn. She wondered if she would take one last look at Rosie. But she decided against it.

The storage room was there, waiting for her. Sighing, she took one last look at her surroundings, checking if she was being watched. Then she slid the door and entered.

She murmured and closed her eyes.

Moments later, there’s knocking at the door. “Elaine! Get out! I need some supplies!”

Maybe we’ll meet again, Rosie.

“Coming, Bunny!”

—

When Elaine left to go home, the new busboys were left after they cleaned up the place. They sat to rest before actually going home. One of them, Jerry, was looking at the wall filled with pictures and memorabilia from old patrons and past owners from different decades. Their jazz club had been open since the late 1930s and it could feel like a museum sometimes.

While he was scanning the frames, one picture stood out to him. It was a photo of a couple in a booth, staring at each other adoringly. The picture seemed like straight from a movie scene, which made Jerry think if it was a screenshot from an unknown movie of the time.

He leaned in closer and noticed the woman in the photo. She looked like one of their waitresses. Elaine! But the woman in the photo was with better hair and of course, wearing vintage clothing. She was gazing at the mustachioed man as if studying him, and the man was doing the same to her. They looked cozy and adorable.

“Hey Bunny, look at this,” Jerry called. The woman he was calling came to him almost immediately.

“What is it, Jer?” she asked.

“She looks a lot like Elaine, no?”

Bunny leaned in as well to check the photo. “Oh yeah, she does. Maybe her grandma or something?”

“Maybe,” Jerry replied.

“We’ll tell Elaine tomorrow,” Bunny said.

What the two failed to notice was the small inscription at the lower right edge of the photo. It said:

Rosie & Elaine, 1941

#masters of the air #we'll meet again #mota #mota fic #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #time travel #oc: elaine byrne #time travel au #rosie rosenthal x oc

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ginabaker1666 · 30 days

Text

You Belong To Me

From the Love Letter Series

Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)

The revelation that Robert Rosenthal does in fact love his best friend, Josephine Harris, comes too little too late as he’s getting ready to ship out to England. With a promise to write exchanged on the train platform, and an even bigger pinky promise that he come home to her, Rosie and Jo forge a romance detailed in their letters. Now that he’s returned home, he intends to make good on his promises.

“I’d better see you at Minton’s…”

He remembered the good natured teasing in his own voice as he began his semi-goodbye to Crosby on the hardstand the day they left Thorpe Abbotts. Croz had chuckled and promised he’d see him there; a sense of familiarity between the two as they felt their lives back home creeping upon them.

Now… well, now he was standing in front of the bar at Minton’s, fingers tapping idly on the short rocks glass in his hand, eyes sweeping over the sea of people. Men in their dress uniforms, pressed sharp; women wearing their favorite red lipstick and best stockings, all crowded together on the dance floor while the band played on.

New York was still swept up in the victory of the war; sweethearts who couldn’t get enough of dancing with their soldier who had just come home. Men looking to meet someone, to quell the ache of the last few years with a female companion.

Bringing the glass to his lips, Rosie let the familiar taste of the scotch soothe him, as he continued his people watching. Thinking back on it, sure, he had told Crosby that in no uncertain terms he’d be at Minton’s upon getting home; but it was a sentence almost identical to the one he had spoken moments before he shipped out, that resonated with him like the aftershocks of ringing a bell.

He couldn’t help but conjure up his own vision of red lips, smooth skin and a bright smile; the piece of home he had taken with him to East Anglia, and carried close to his heart (in the breast pocket of his uniform) on every single mission.

Josephine.

They had been childhood friends who grew up on the same block. Their moms were almost always having coffee together or, if the weather was nice, out on the stoop of their homes while Robert and Josephine played on the sidewalk. As kids, he had called her Jo, and she affectionately called him Robbie; and his Ma, well, his Ma would just shake her head with a fond smile and chuckle, muttering about how one day he would see it.

He’s twenty-eight now and he finally sees it, though, he supposes he saw it long before he shipped out. He had wanted to run down the block, knock on her door until her mother answered with a scowl on her face at all the noise, but something had stopped him. His Ma had said he thinks too much, but the laundry list of what-if’s had violently plagued him before deciding no, on his behalf. How could he drop that revelation on her, and then leave for god knows how long? His Ma had taught him better than that.

What he had asked her instead, was if he could write to her; but when the words tumbled forth past his lips, one or two getting tangled in his wiry mustache, she was already asking him the same thing.

“Would it be alright if I wrote to you?”

The pair both fell silent, before a soft laugh escaped Jo’s lips, and he knew he would be counting the days until he was able to hear it again.

“Should have known you’d beat me to the punch.” He grinned, head shaking in jest.

Jo just smiled and threw her arms around him, holding him close for as many minutes as she could before the conductor at Grand Central Station called for the ‘All Aboard.”

“Robbie…” She had looked up at him, big brown eyes filled with unshed tears for him; for this war, and if he had to guess, herself.

“I’ll meet you at Minton’s as soon as I’m back.” He had assured her, thumb swiping under her cheek to catch the first tear.

“You promise?”

He hated to make promises when the future was so uncertain for them, but, this was Josephine and he would be damned if he didn’t attempt to make her smile one more time before he got on that train.

“I’ll do you one better,” He grinned, holding out his right hand. “I pinky promise you, I’ll be at Minton’s, waiting for you.”

It was as close as he could get to saying ‘I Love You’.

Jo grinned, hooking the pinky of her own hand with his, just as the conductor yelled the last call for passengers.

“I’ll be waiting for your letters…” he had whispered, pulling her close once more. “With bated breath, Jo.”

“Not nearly as much as I’ll be waiting for yours,” She sniffled softly before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Come home to me in one piece, Robbie, please.”

That had been then. Before Thorpe Abbotts, Rosie's Riveters, twenty-five successful missions and reupping for a second tour. Before he had bailed out over Russia, before the horrors of Nuremberg and a hell of a journey back to base. He often thought back to that night after he had returned to East Anglia, sitting in the Officers Club with Croz, wondering if they were becoming the monsters they had been sent to fight.

No, they hadn’t become the monsters, but he had felt that the longer he was away from home the more he lost bits and pieces of himself from the ‘before’ and had to learn to live with the Robert Rosenthal of ‘after’. Would she like the ‘after’. The thought entered his mind so quickly, he almost missed it. Hell, he was still processing it all, and as he turned back to face the bar for a refill, his gaze caught on the entrance of the club.

There she was, his Jo, purse clutched in her hands as she looked around the crowded room for a familiar face. Dark brown eyes scanning over the bodies packed in like sardines, brown curls immaculately pinned up, bright red lips pursed in concentration. Abandoning his empty glass, he smoothed a hand over his curls, straightened his jacket, and pushed off the bar. Weaving his way through the throngs of people, he kept his gaze locked on her, as his feet carried him across the floor.

Rosie felt everything around him fade into a dull buzz as soon as her eyes found his. He pushed his way to the edge of the crowd, finally coming to a stop in front of her. Now, face to face, Rosie and Jo could do nothing more than stare at each other. Neither wanted to be the first to speak, to break the bubble around them, but both felt compelled to do something.

“I promised, didn’t I?” Rosie broke the silence with a smile.

He just barely made out his name falling from her lips before she was in his arms. He caught her with ease and held on tight. It was proof that she was real, that he was home, and there was nothing to fear as they stood at the entrance to Minton’s. Nobody spared them a glance as they sidestepped the couple, a sort of mutual understanding as so many others reunited under the same roof.

“Let me look at you,” Jo had pulled away first, but only letting go of him enough to let her hands slide down his arms to take his. “Home in one piece I see.

“As requested,” Rosie grinned, giving her delicate hands a squeeze. “And as promised.”

“You know better than anyone, that to break a pinky promise is as good as treason, Robert Rosenthal.”

“And you should know that I don’t make pinky promises with just anyone, Josephine Harris.”

“Well, now that we’ve settled that…” she trailed off, a teasing grin on her lips as Rosie began to guide her towards where he had spotted an empty table near the back. Close enough to get to the dance floor when they were ready, but far enough back that they could talk and still hear each other over the din of music and other patrons.

“Are dirty martinis still your poison, or did that change while I was gone?”

“Nothing’s changed,” she looked up at him as if to reassure him that it wasn’t just her cocktail order that remained the same, but the sentiments they exchanged in their numerous letters while he had been over in England. “Everything is exactly as you left it.”

In lieu of a response, he pulled out the chair for her, holding it steady as she slid gracefully into the offered seat, before moving to the chair across from hers.

Instead of sitting, Rosie moved the empty chair next to the one Jo was currently occupying, so that he could sit closer to her, as opposed to having the table between them. Once he was happy with the placement, he lowered himself into the vacant space, body turned at an angle so he could face his companion. He just barely caught a waiter moving in their direction, and flagged the gentleman down, promptly ordering Jo her aforementioned martini, and another scotch for himself. Once the waiter was gone, Rosie’s warm, much larger hand, covered Jo’s, his palms still rough from countless hours behind the yolk, causing him to internally wince as he felt her soft skin against his. The thought was quickly snuffed out as her hand turned upward to his, their palms meeting before her fingers intertwined with his on the table top.

“I missed you,” Jo spoke first this time, breaking the silence. “So much, Robbie.”

“I missed you too. Like you wouldn’t believe,” He admitted. “Your letters, they were the only thing I looked forward to. Just don’t tell my Ma that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Major.” She teased.

Rosie made a show of wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, mustache twitching upward as he smiled at Jo, stopping only when the waiter returned with their drinks. He watched as she lifted the martini glass to her lips; delicate fingers holding the top of the glass, nails painted a bright red, her eyes watching him over the rim as she took her first sip. He felt parched, regardless of the drink in front of him, as he watched her move with such precision and grace. Something he had missed sorely over the last few years, and fully intended on appreciating now that he could.

“Did they make it right?” He asked.

“Perfect,” She nodded, placing the glass back on the table. “Just as good as I remember.”

“It can’t have been that long since the last time you were here.” Rosie spoke, lifting his own glass to his lips.

“I haven’t been since… well, since the night before you left.”

“Minton’s is your favorite place! You mean to tell me you haven’t been here since–”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Jo finished for him.

Her confession hung in the air, Rosie both shocked but warmed at the thought that she hadn’t been here without him and that the last time she was here had been with him. That she reserved this place as something that belonged to just them. He felt there was no better time than to drop his own truth bomb; he only hoped it didn’t send her running back out the door.

“Since we’re confessing things,” He started carefully. “I uh.. I want you to know that I carried your picture with me while I was gone.”

“…you did?”

“Every day,” he nodded. “I took you on every mission with me.”

He wasn’t sure what to expect after confessing all of that to her, but the glistening of her own eyes as she looked back at him wasn’t it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what… I didn’t mean to make you cry, Jo.”

“Shush,” She spoke quickly, one finger over his lips. “You wonderful, handsome man.”

His eyebrow quirked in response. It was all he could do given that her finger was still over his lips, and she had asked him to stop talking. But he wanted to do more than just keep talking. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her silly, and then take her on the dance floor and spin her around until they were both giddy and dizzy and drunk on each other. And then he wanted to kiss her some more. All too gently, he took her hand in his, moved it away from his lips, and carefully tugged her towards him until she was close enough for him to wrap her up in his arms.

“I should have kissed you that day at the train station,” Rosie started. “I was convinced you wouldn’t want me the same way I wanted you, and there were so many what-if’s, and then I was leaving. Truth be told, I should have kissed you long before the train station.”

“I’ve always been yours, Robbie,” She smiled. “We just took the scenic route.”

And then there was silence, save for the gasp that Jo let loose as Rosie’s lips finally descended on hers. Firm, yet gentle, and with the slight tickle of his mustache, he poured every ounce of himself into making sure she knew just how much he loved her without words. Because the words had been written in many letters over the course of years; phrased with care and longing for each other, a desire that grew much like stoking the flames of a campfire until it reached the point of blazing uncontrollably and there was no turning back. For Rosie and Jo, the fire burned and neither cared to put it out, or attempt to quell the flames.

When they finally pulled apart, the need for oxygen too great to withstand, neither could stop their smiles from growing. There it was. Their love for the ages, that they had planted, grown and nurtured during the days of war, was finally seen blooming under the dim lighting of Minton’s Jazz Club.

“I love you, Jo.”

“I love you too,” She grinned. “More than I could have ever said in any letter.”

“Yet somehow, I always knew. I wonder how that happened.” He teased her, leaning forward to press his lips to hers again.

The smart remark she had been ready to dish his way died on her lips as the band began playing a song that had Rosie tapping out a beat, eyes widening with mirth as he grabbed Jo’s hand and stood, pulling her up with him.

“Come on, pretty girl, let's dance!”

He led them through the crowd of people until they reached the dance floor, and then he found them a spot where he could hold her close and spin her in his arms until his heart's content. The band played on, an Artie Shaw tune that had Rosie laughing to himself as he thought back to the sound of his crew imitating him as they sat around the poker table at the Flak House, way back when. It was a story he had only briefly shared in a letter that he had written from Coombe House during a night he couldn’t find sleep. But now, the sounds of Artie Shaw brought him a smile, as the woman in his arms smiled back at him.

The band moved into a slower song, and Rosie pulled Jo closer, pressing their bodies together as they moved together, cheek to cheek.

“You really took my picture with you on every flight?” She spoke quietly, her voice for his ears only.

“I did,” Rosie nodded. “I kept it in my jacket, close to me. Except for that one time.”

“You know… when your mother got that telegram from the War Department that you had gone down, she ran down the block to our house so I could read it.”

“Oh honey…”

“I refused to believe you had left me without a proper chance at us. Selfish as it may seem, I couldn’t picture my life without you.”

“You won’t have to; not now, or ever. I promise, I’m not going anywhere ever again where you can’t go too.”

“Pinky promise?”

“More than that,” He grinned, before pressing his lips to her own. When they pulled apart they couldn’t help the smiles that took hold. “We can seal this one with a kiss.”

Read Part 2 Here

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

Tag List:

@winniemaywebber @rosiesriveter @bobparkhurst @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @rowdy-redhead @sagesolsticewrites @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd

#rosie rosenthal x oc #robert rosie rosenthal #masters of the air fic #Robert Rosie Rosenthal x ofc #Gina baker writes #mota fic #Nate Mann

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 17 days

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 11

AO3

Warnings: Language, angst

Word Count: 3.9k

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

Rosie's palms were slick with sweat, the din of the band muffled to his ears beneath the deafening thumping of his heart as he pushed his way through the crowds, never faltering, even when people called to him as he passed. The door seemed all at once impossibly far away when every second meant not knowing where Frankie was, not knowing if she was ok.

A sudden silence fell upon him as he stepped out into the night air, taking a moment to adjust to the darkness. The sound of footsteps on gravel caught his attention, and he trailed after the crunch around to the side of the hut, stopping dead in his tracks as he took in the scene before him. George sat on the bench, leaning forward on her elbows, a deep frown creasing her cheeks. Frankie was pacing in front of her, a freshly lit cigarette letting off smoke as she held it to her lips. Even in the dim light, he could make out the redness in her eyes, and a wave of nausea coursed through him as he realised she'd been crying.

"Frankie?"

Their gazes snapped towards him, unaware of his presence until now. George was wide-eyed in concern, but there was something cold in Frankie's gaze - bitter, a type of ruefulness he'd never seen in her, especially not directed at him. She dropped the cigarette, stomping it out with her heel as she turned to walk away from him. "Frankie," George called, a warning tone in her voice, like a mother scolding a child.

It worked. She paused, face tilted up to the sky as she let out a long, exhausted sigh, and Rosie wanted nothing more but to step forward and hold her in his arms. But he knew in that moment she wouldn't let him. His eyes met George's for a moment, a nod of understanding passing between them. She rose to her feet, moving to give them some privacy, but as she passed him she paused.

"If you break her heart, I swear I'll kill you, Rosenthal."

"Understood, ma'am."

She walked away, the sound of her footsteps fading with distance. Frankie's shoulders were tense as she rubbed at her eyes, attempting to remove the evidence of the tears she'd shed over him.

"... Honey?" Rosie asked slowly. She stormed towards him, hands reaching out towards his chest to give him a shove, to release the anger bubbling inside her. But when the moment came, she froze, seizing the lapels of his jacket in her clenched fists, unable to meet his eye, gaze fixed on the line of medals that decorate his chest.

"Hey," He spoke gently, scarcely more than a whisper. Reaching a gentle hand to her arm, he felt her grip loosen, peeling her hand away from him so that he could lift it, placing a kiss to the inside of her wrist, gaze never leaving her face. She met his eyes the moment his lips brushed against her skin, jaw visibly clenched. "C'mon. Talk to me."

"You're going back up, aren't you?" Frankie's voice came low and hoarse. Her knuckle brushed against his cheek so briefly, yet he felt the urge to lean in against it, to feel her hand against his face.

"I don't know, I haven't decided yet."

"Yes, you have. You haven't realised it, but you'll go - that's who you are."

The corner of his mouth curled in an involuntary smile, charmed at the thought of being known so well. But her expression had no humour, and her fingers balled back into a fist, slipping out of his grasp.

"They'll replace me with someone who can't do the job as well as I can. I'm saving a life by staying - I can't just walk away from this, Frankie."

"What about me?" She knew the words were selfish the moment they left her, the shame making her squirm. "I'd been waiting for this for so long - it was keeping me going, knowing that I didn't have to live in fear for much longer, and now you're just dragging it out for what? So you can feel good about yourself?"

Rosie's brow furrowed, taking a half-step backwards away from her, lips parting for a moment as he searched for something to say. He had noted the smell of alcohol on her breath, telling himself she didn't mean what she said, but the words still stung.

"I want to stop. If I could, I would, but-"

"But you can-"

"No, I can't! This is bigger than any one person, I can't just give it up!"

Frankie's lip had begun to tremble, and she sniffed loudly, raising her hand to hastily wipe away the tears forming in her eyes before they could fall. Before he could think about it, he was stepping forward to envelop her in an embrace, but she batted his hand away before he could touch her, and Rosie swore he felt his heart skip a beat.

"I've been doing this for nearly five fucking years," She shook her head. "I deserved this, Rosie. Today wasn't just about you, I deserved to have this one thing."

He paused then, sucking in a long breath. He hadn't considered that - that this had been her war far longer than it had been his. How many bodies had she dragged out of planes in her time? How much blood had she wiped clean? More than he'd ever seen.

"I'm sorry."

"But you won't change anything."

"No. But I need you."

"That's not fair. I wait for you every time and it is agony, and every time we're together I can't help but think of all the ways your next mission could go wrong, and I don't know how much longer I can do it."

Taking a step forward, he raised a tentative hand, holding back a sigh of relief as she let him touch her, his thumb skirting across her cheek. "I think you're the reason I'm still alive." He admitted, noticing the way her chest heaved as she sucked in a deep breath. "This was never gonna work out perfectly for us, but you're what I come back for. It's like... I think of you and I can do whatever it takes to make it back alive... because I love you."

All at once Frankie collapsed into him, head pressed firm against his chest, arms wrapped almost unbearably tight around his back. If she had to, she could live without him - she could get up and live her life every day, but it wouldn't be the same. He had made himself essential to her, had burrowed beneath her skin like an itch she couldn't scratch, and that presence would never leave, alive or dead. But a part of her would die with him. He squeezed her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, warm breath fanning her skin.

There was nothing she could do. She could stand there in the dark and call off the whole thing, refuse to ever speak to him again, but the part of her that he occupied wasn't going away. Distance wouldn't solve anything, it would simply amplify her misery. The fear wouldn't abate, so long as there was breath in his lungs.

Rosie's cheek rested against her head, listening quietly to the steady thump of her heart. His hand moved from her shoulder to her hip to her hair, as if trying to map every inch of her with his fingertips, unable to hold her close enough without fusing his skin to hers. This was what he came home for, this was what kept him alive - what was heaven to the sound of her breathing?

"I love you too," She uttered. After a moment, Frankie raised her head, chin resting against his chest as she looked up at him. Rosie lifted a hand, wiping away the remnants of unshed tears with the back of his palm, a tired smile curling her lip as she let her eyes flutter shut. If he could've spent the rest of his life staring at her, he would've. Instead, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, reaching an arm around his back to take her hand in his.

"C'mon," He spoke softly, stepping backwards out of the embrace and tugging her along by the hand.

"Come where?" Frankie asked, brow furrowed.

"Just come," A grin creased his cheeks as she fell in step, their footsteps breaking the late-night silence.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The single lightbulb illuminating the path to the mess hall buzzed intermittently, flickering slightly as moths hovered around its glow. There was no one around, the staff having long gone for the night, the rooms within laying deserted. Frankie began to chuckle as she realised what they were doing, struggling to restrain a laugh as Rosie jostled the doorknob, wrestling with the thing for a minute before it came open with a creak.

"See? Like magic," He proclaimed.

"Yeah, on your third try," She snorted as he held out his elbow for her to take his arm as if they were entering a high-class restaurant.

It was utterly still inside the hall, the quiet so piercing that they could almost hear the beating of their own hearts. Rosie led her through to the back, flicking on the kitchen light as the shelves and shelves of food came suddenly into view.

"You're a thief, Rosenthal," Frankie pointed out, pushing herself up to perch on the edge of the counter.

He hummed distractedly, rifling through the supplies now at their disposal. "They'll understand. Date night with the wife 'n all." For a moment he continued without realising what he'd said, and then he froze, turning his head slightly to glance nervously back at her.

Frankie was already smiling, and offered up a shrug, a wordless assurance of 'someday'. He turned back to the shelves, hoping the shadows would hide the tinge of red he could feel blooming in his cheeks.

"Aha," He declared, retrieving a pair of chocolate bars and tossing one across to her. Peeling back the paper, she took a bite as he pushed himself up onto the counter beside her, tapping the chocolate together as if they were toasting glasses.

"This is better than a party," Rosie sighed, leaning back against the wall as he raised a hand to loosen his tie, undoing the top button of his shirt.

"Really? You won't find any good booze in here," She raised a brow, holding the chocolate bar between her teeth as she shrugged off her jacket, tossing it unceremoniously onto the floor.

"I'd rather sit around with you."

"Mm, yeah. I'd rather eat chocolate," Frankie mused, staring down at the half-eaten bar in her hand before going in for another bite.

"Oh, nice - romantic," Rosie chuckled.

"What? I'm just being honest. That's gonna be the worst part about going to America - no Cadbury's. I'm making this sacrifice for you Robert, that's romantic."

"You're right, I'm sorry for not appreciating your suffering," Pushing himself upright, he leant over to press a kiss to her cheek, missing as she turned her head and accidentally pressing his lips to her chin.

Frankie let out a cackle, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him in for a real kiss as she slid sideways off the counter. He could taste chocolate on her lips, one hand squeezing her hip, the other cushioning her shoulder as she backed up against the wall. She ran a deliberate hand through his hair, messing up his curls in the way that always made her smile. He was going to have to stop buying hair gel.

Rosie could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her shirt, pressing against her with his palm as if they could meld into one. This wasn't like him. His mother would've been red in the face. But it wasn't his fault that Frankie was just so damn pretty. Simply breathing seemed twice as hard whenever she smiled - it was a wonder how he'd ever lived without it. The moment she'd left the party, his stomach had dropped so hard he thought he'd vomit, so scared had he been at the prospect of losing her. He cupped her jaw, tilting her face higher towards him, the press of her head against the wall messing up the curls George had no doubt spent ages tending to.

She snaked an arm around the back of his neck, trapped between his shoulders and the wall. It was an unwinnable situation, but she could survive the fear if it meant he was hers once it was all over. Rosie was good - no, scratch that - he was the best. If anyone could make it back, he could.

He had just begun to loosen her tie when a sudden banging at the door startled them, tearing themselves apart as someone hammered a heavy fist, shining a torch through the window at the front end of the mess hall.

"We know someone's in there!" A booming yell sounded. "Come out!"

Frankie clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling the laughter that threatened to erupt as Rosie gritted his teeth, trying his damndest not to do the same and give them away worse than they had already. She scrambled to collect her jacket, attempting to smooth down her hair with one hand as he hastily disposed of any evidence of their late-night feast.

The kitchen had a narrow back door, and Frankie pried it open as quietly as she could. Whoever had found them was still hammering on the front door, and as she peered out into the darkness she couldn't see any sign of reinforcements. "Go, go!" She whispered, shoes clutched in her hand to muffle her footsteps as they crept outside, scurrying across the grass towards the next row of Nissen huts.

As soon as they were home free she let a mighty laugh tear itself from her chest, splitting the air and undoubtedly waking up a few disgruntled workers. Rosie had begun to laugh too, their shoulders brushing as they swayed against each other, giddy on adrenaline. They were far too old to be sneaking around like teenagers, but he couldn't honestly remember the last time he'd had so much fun. Slinging an arm around her shoulders, she leaned against him as they wandered back towards her hut, the party's crowds not yet dissipated out into the world.

Approaching her door, Frankie turned to face him, walking backwards as she wrapped her arms around his back. She took a deep breath, letting out a sigh, giddiness wearing off. "See you tomorrow?"

Rosie nodded, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Yeah. I've gotta go see Bennett in the morning, I'll catch you after."

"Yeah, alright." Pushing herself up onto her toes, she kissed him one last time, before slipping inside.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was quiet inside, the bathroom light humming as George stepped into the doorway, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, curls brushed out of her hair. "You're back."

"I'm back," Frankie sighed, scraping a hand through her hair as she collapsed backwards onto the bed, springs creaking beneath her. She heard desperate scrambling from the next room as George hurried to finish up, and the quick step of bare feet against the floor as she scurried over, sitting cross-legged on her bed beside her.

"...And?" She asked, tone laced with worry.

"I'm living with it," Frankie admitted, throwing up her hands in surrender.

"That's it?"

"Think about it, George!" She exclaimed, rolling over onto her stomach so that she could look up at her. "If I made him stop, if I said he had to go home, he'd be miserable. He'd resent it - he wouldn't resent me, 'cause he's too bloody good, but he'll hate it. He'll spend the rest of his life regretting it, and I don't wanna do that. I'll have to live with it too."

The corner of George's lip curled in a half-smirk. "It's that serious, huh? 'Rest of your life' type stuff?"

"... I think so."

"I get it. It's better in the long run."

"Yeah, if there is one," Frankie sighed, staring dejectedly down at the floor.

"Oi," George slid off the bed, crouching down before her, forcing Frankie to look at her. "Don't gimme that shit, ok? He's the best pilot this place has ever seen, no one has chances as good as he does. I know it's scary - you know I know that."

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I know. Sorry."

"Don't apologise. Get up and take that uniform off... you smell like chocolate."

Chuckling, Frankie pushed herself upright, beginning to peel away her clothes as George began to meticulously pin her hair into curlers for the next day. Sometimes she felt guilty - lamenting over the possibility of losing the man she loved when George had already lost hers. As if she were tempting fate, painting George's life as the worst possible version of her future.

"...You know I love you, right?" She asked slowly.

George looked up, brow raised. "Yeah, 'course. Why, are you dumping Rosie to run away with me now?"

Frankie let out a huff of laughter, buttoning up her pyjama shirt. "Yeah, that's the plan," She nodded, the pair grinning at each other as she climbed into bed. Flicking off the bedside lamp, she buried her head into the pillow, eyes shut tightly as she tried to fall asleep.

After a few minutes of silence, George spoke up again. "I would make a prettier bride than Rosie."

Grabbing her pillow, she hurled it at her, knocking George off balance and almost sending her tipping over the corner of the bed. "Oi!"

"I'm trying to sleep! Shut up and gimme my pillow back, or the engagement's off."

George chuckled, lobbing it back with as much, if not greater force, and Frankie yelped as it collided with her face, the sound muffled by the pillow.

"... I think you gave me a black eye."

"You're being a fucking baby."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"General Doolittle has ordered the air strategy to shift radically...

"to shoot them down we need to get them in the air...

"...With bombers as the bait."

Frankie lingered outside the closed door to Bennett's office, arms folded tightly across her chest as she listened to the conversation within. She'd had to argue her way past a fair few guards just to get this far, and was resisting the sudden urge to march through the door and break something - preferably Bennett's nose.

She hadn't told Rosie she was coming, and the more she listened in, the more she felt confident she didn't want him to know either. He'd probably try to stop her from starting a fight. Footsteps approached the door from the inside, and Frankie ducked into the nearest office and out of view as Rosie passed. The room's inhabitants looked up at her as she entered, brows furrowed in confusion, and she offered an awkward smile, pretending to fix one of the clocks until he was safely out of sight.

Before the door to Bennett's office could fall close, she stepped in, propping her arm across the doorframe and blocking the exit.

"Can I help you ma'am?" He asked, brow raised as he stood up from his desk.

"Yeah, actually, I was wondering if you could direct me towards a CO with some basic fucking sense."

Bennett looked momentarily startled, before realisation seemed to flicker across his expression. "Ah. You're Rosenthal's girl, right?"

Frankie frowned. "I also happen to be the most experienced mechanic you've got. But yeah, I guess that works."

"In that case, you probably shouldn't come in here insulting your commanding officers."

"That'd certainly be a concern if I actually worked for you."

"Look... Sergeant? I get it. You found out about the new plan, somehow-"

"I was listening through the door just now."

"...You're really not allowed to do that."

"I really don't care."

"Frankie?" Rosie's voice echoed from the opposite end of the corridor, and she tried her best not to react as she heard his footsteps approaching behind her, felt a gentle hand on her arm. "What're you doing?"

"You know those orders are bullshit," Frankie continued, gaze never leaving Bennett. "And you're letting it happen because you're a fucking coward."

"Okay, Jesus Christ, let's go," Rosie spoke hurriedly, tugging on her arm. "Sir, I'm sorry about this."

"I'm not done-"

"Yes, you are."

The Lieutenant Colonel didn't get a chance to speak before Frankie was dragged out of his doorway, the door falling shut with a heavy thud as Rosie guided her away back down the hall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? What was that?!"

"Plan A was to strangle him - I think it went well all things considered."

"Do not - what?!" Rosie shook his head, utterly dumbfounded as they stepped outside. "What are you doing?!"

Frankie stopped walking, turning on her heel to face him. "Those orders are gonna get these men killed. I mean, bait? Are they fucking serious?"

"Did you listen in on that entire conversation?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. The point is, I'm sick of having to stand by and watch them give out these bullshit orders that nobody can stand up to. They're murdering those boys if they do this, they're-"

"I know!" Rosie exclaimed, raising his hands to her shoulders. "I know. I care about them too, you know I do, but they're making me Major now - I can lead them - I'm gonna do everything I can to bring them home."

"... Wait, what? They're making you Major?"

"So you missed that part?"

"I think I blacked out after the 'bait' thing."

"Yeah, I got that impression."

Frankie nodded for a long moment, gnawing at the inside of her cheek. "... I hate not being able to do anything."

"I know," Rosie reached for her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.

"I'm the one who'll have to clean your blood out of the seat if you don't make it," She stated, unable to meet his eye. He felt the colour drain from his cheeks. "They'll give me your footlocker. I don't - I don't know what to do with it, I don't-" The more she spoke the faster the words came tumbling out, spiralling out of control.

"Hey, hey," Rosie cooed, wrapping an arm around the back of her neck to pull her into his chest. "We're good. We're okay, it's gonna be okay. I'm gonna make it. I dunno if anyone's told you, but I'm kind of a big deal around here."

"Oh, shut up," Frankie thumped a fist against his shoulder, her voice barely audible, muffled against his jacket. When she pulled away she was fighting a smile, a red tint flushing her cheeks as she swept her hair out of her face.

"Seriously," He nodded, lifting his hands to cup her face. "It'll be alright."

"... Yeah."

#masters of the air #rosie rosenthal #masters of the air oc #mota fic #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal x oc #fic | i'm your man #oc: frankie #oc: george

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winniemaywebber · 22 days

Text

The Apple Tree 🌳 • Part 3

3/6

(gif by @basilone)

Rosie invites Y/N to London for the weekend.

warnings: none, except lots of fluff <3

thank you to my darling friends @sagesolsticewrites & @ginabaker1666 for reading this multiple times over the past week. so grateful for you both ily.

The sun has finally parted through the clouds and covered Thorpe Abbotts in a luscious golden warmth with a slight breeze underneath it, whooshing through the thick green leaves, leaving a feeling of refreshment as you walk through it. You're happy that the weather has chosen to behave itself for once and you're finally able to enjoy it, due to it being a Bank Holiday weekend.

Your lazy Friday morning consists of sitting in your favorite armchair, still in your pajamas, hair still in their curlers, sipping a warm cup of tea and flipping through the latest issue of your favorite magazine. You remain in this blissful daze, turning pages and sipping in this deliciously cozy cornucopia you've entwined yourself into, until you hear a sharp rap on your door. Expecting it to be Mrs Howell from next door, clutching her flour box in the hopes of stealing a scoop or two from your bag to make her famous rock cakes, you answer the door without a second thought to your appearance.

On your wonky slate doorstep is Rosie, looking extremely handsome - as usual - in his dress uniform, the green coloring of it perfectly suited to his brown hair, which in the glow of the sun, you can see shining, a few red hints coming through it. You feel your eyes widen as you look down at yourself, suddenly embarrassed.

“Hi, sweetheart,” He says enthusiastically. He steps over the threshold and plants a kiss on what it meant to be your cheek but is more towards the corner of your mouth. You don't mind. You, in fact, reciprocate, your mouth absentmindedly pouting near his ear, making a kissing sound but making no contact with his face. “My, don't you look wonderful this morning. Fresh as a daisy.” You giggle, feeling your cheeks reddening.

“Hi, Rosie,” you reply sweetly, pulling him into your living room. “Tea? The pot is still warm.”

“Yes, please.”

---

After you're both settled with warm mugs in your hands, sitting in opposite armchairs, you lean your head on your hand and stare at him with a soft look in your eyes, your elbow on the arm of the chair to keep balance. “This is a nice surprise,” you say sweetly. “What's it in aid of?”

“I got a weekend pass and I'm going to London. I'd like you to come with me.”

“Rosie, I–” you stutter, mulling over his offer.

“Come on, Y/N,” He urges. “I want to take you dancing, and show you good jazz music.” He smiles broadly, his eyes growing wider with each word. You bite your lip in pretend consideration, humming a little, his face suddenly bearing an expression of suspense. “Rosie, I'd love to,” you laugh. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Then you'd better go ahead and pack,” he laughs.

---

You keep up the coziness on the train. Sitting opposite one another, you both read companionably, exchanging passages every so often. Soon enough, Rosie stops reading his book altogether, his head resting on the back of his seat. “Will you read to me?” He sees your eyes light up at his request, and he smiles softly. “Of course,” you reply, clearing your throat. “How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't.”

As you keep reading, you find your legs draped over his, his big, lovely hand upon where your Bobby sock sits, peeking out of your patent shoe. You sit like that, his hand stroking your leg ever so delicately, his fingers dancing over your skin as you watch him drift off to sleep. Suddenly, the brave man you'd been spending time with is replaced by a vulnerable little boy who needed a bedtime story to fall asleep to. Feeling your heart melt a little, you close the book as silently as possible, and watch him sleep as the countryside zooms by the window.

---

Ever the gentleman, Rosie had escorted you to your hotel room before going upstairs to his own. The room was surprisingly spacious: a large queen bed, a couch and a small desk tucked in next to a large window. You could imagine that pre-wartime, that the view would have been something to sit and gaze at. However, the window only showed you crumbled buildings below, people sifting through pieces of what used to be their home, discarding whole bricks into wheelbarrows and continuing the search for their belongings, under a cloudless blue sky that doesn't seem to fit the melancholia below it. The place is eerily silent, the only noise breaking through being an occasional birdsong.

---

Rosie had told you to be ready for 7pm. You'd napped in the lovely big bed, taking a boiling hot shower right after. Your usual bath time at the cottage looked a lot different: warming up water in a large pot over the roaring fire to dump into your copper tub. Hair washing was done over the sink, your back aching to place your head under the taps. A shower was a luxury, and you definitely took advantage of being able to wash your hair and body in the same place.

You glance at the clock after finishing up your makeup: 6.55pm. You feel nerves bubbling up inside of you as you place a yellow swing dress over your head, fumbling with the buttons as you will your hands to stop shaking. The sharp rap of knuckles on the door shocks you out of your anxious daze, taking a deep breath as you open the door.

Rosie's mouth opens to say hello, but the words seem to get stuck in his throat. His baby blue eyes soften at the sight of you, his mouth slightly agape. “Woah, Y/N,” his voice just above a whisper. He shakes his head, awestruck, seemingly trying to find words.

“What? This old thing?” you smile demurely, feeling your cheeks turning pink at the way he's looking at you. He breathes out, puffing his cheeks a little.

“You look beautiful,” He says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek. “What a privilege it is to have you on my arm.”

---

The buzz of music hits you the second you walk into the dark club, horns blaring so loudly that you have to shout in one another's ears. Placing his hat down on an empty table, he offers you his hand, and immediately spins you on to the dance floor.

Spectacularly unfit and feet aching, you sit and watch Rosie dance with as many pretty dames that can get their hands on him. Taking such pleasure in watching him spin these girls off their feet, you sit and watch him intently, heat rising through your body. Not totally sure what this sensation is, you try to push it aside - but you're done for the second you see him smile, his eyes wrinkling as he dances to the music, totally in his element.

Each girl finishes the dance by kissing him on the cheek, one even planting a smooch on his mouth that catches him by total surprise, his eyes widening. You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand as he walks over from the bar, clutching a martini for him and an Old Fashioned for you.

“That sure was…something,” he says, his eyes darting nervously towards you. You laugh again, and cup his cheek to get him to look at you, then pulling his ear towards your mouth.

“I don't blame them one bit, Robert,” you smile into him, both hands now on his cheek. “Pretty dames like handsome men.” He pulls away, smiling sweetly at you, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of the club. You both grin at each other like that for a moment, before he gestures for your ear.

“Maybe,” He pauses, swallowing. “But you're the only pretty dame I want kissing me.” Words caught in your throat, you lean over into the small space between you and kiss him on the cheek. A slower song starts, Rosie pulling you to your feet once again.

“Heaven, I'm in heaven,

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.

I seem to find the happiness I seek,

When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

You're not sure who moves first, but you don't seem to care. Noses touching as your faces move closer together, when, finally, his mouth is capturing yours. Your hand leaves his shoulder and gently toys with the curls on the back of his neck, his plush lips moving in sync with yours sends butterflies through your entire body. His hand falls to your waist, pulling you flush against him, his other hand cupping your cheek with his thumb stroking it softly. You both break apart with a sigh, noses rubbing slightly.

“Oh, Rosie,” you whisper as the song concludes, him unable to hear it but reading your lips. He takes your hand and kisses it, leading you out of the building.

---

There's a silence between you as you wander down the quiet street, hand in hand. You shiver slightly, the chill of the night air shocking you a little. Without missing a beat, Rosie peels off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, the warmth enveloping you straight away, his sweet floral scent emanating from it. He takes your hand once again, thumbs stroking at each other's hands. A small, sweet gesture that seems to say “I'm here. I'm safe. I'm happy.”

The mixture of the freezing night air, the alcohol and the feeling of Rosie's hand in yours sends your senses haywire. Before you can think, you pull him into a dark doorway and kiss him deeply. He reciprocates immediately, as if he'd had the same idea but was too nervous to follow through with it. Breaths mingling, you pull on his tie to get him impossibly closer, your bodies flush against one another's. His hands in your hair, yours on either side of his face…it's magical. Nothing has ever felt this good before, and you feel your toes curl as he moans into you, somehow trying to make the kiss even deeper.

“Oh, darling,” you murmur as you break apart. His pretty blue eyes lock on yours as he takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut for just a second.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Anything, Rosie,” you reply, leaning in to kiss him once again. He kisses your mouth three times before having you look at him.

“Will you be my girl? I know it's a little quick but–” You silence him with another kiss, smiling as your lips touch again.

“Yes, darling. Yes a million times.”

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal fic #rosie rosenthal x reader #rosie rosenthal x oc

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bloodynereid · 21 days

Text

Interlaced

part 3 of Those Sunlit Kisses! you can find part 1 here, part 2 here and part 4 here.

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

warnings: mentions of war, kissing, alcohol drinking, literal sleeping together, some allusions to sex (but it's very minor!), very fluffy

description: when lucy and rosie are finally reunited.

a/n: so... part 3 yay! once again i STRONGLY encourage you to read part 1 and 2 first because you will be very lost without those. i loved getting to explore this little universe i've created and i hope you all enjoy it. ALSO this is about the show's characters and not the real people.

look at that beautiful man ahhhh

Lucy was tapping away at the window frame as the countryside rushed past her. She could barely contain her excitement. It may only be for two days but Lucy couldn’t wait to see her beloved Rosie again.

A stupid grin encapsulated her face and she tried to suppress it so the woman in front of her didn’t think she was absolutely insane.

The entire ride there Lucy was thinking about those damn curls, that mustache and Rosie’s accent. It had been too long since she had seen him and now that it was finally happening all she could feel was pure joy.

Lucy started to feel the train slow down and houses appeared lining the tracks. The name of the town flashed by her and she quickly focused on any of the signs that might appear. Diss read one of them and Lucy almost let out a squeal of happiness. She quickly closed her book and stuffed it into her carpet bag, closing the clasps just as the train eased into the station.

The cool breeze greeted Lucy once she had stepped off the train, looking around at the throngs of people at the station. Realistically she knew that Rosie might not be able to pick her up, but at least he would have sent someone.

“Lucy!” A voice came from somewhere on her right causing Lucy to twirl around and come face to face with the man she loved.

“Rosie!” She squealed and quickly ran over to him, she heard him laugh when she threw her arms around his shoulders, her bag abandoned at her feet and energy coursing her body. The feeling of his arms around her brought a wider smile to her face and Lucy turned her head so she could press a kiss to his temple, shrieking as Rosie picked her up and twirled her around.

“I’m so happy to see you, darling.” Rosie muttered into her hair, easing her down to the concrete. Lucy pulled away momentarily to look at her beautiful man before cautiously pressing her lips to his.

It felt like coming home. Lucy felt Rosie press her closer to him as the kiss turned sweeter and sweeter. The feeling of his hand coming to cup her cheek almost had Lucy combusting.

“Rosie.” She breathed out once they separated, Lucy stared deep into his beautiful blue eyes and a wave of calm encased her body.

“Lucy.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

“Uh sir? You said you wanted to get back in time for the-” An officer’s voice interrupted their moment and Lucy quickly stepped away from Rosie, feeling as a blush quickly overcame her cheeks. Coughing slightly she bent down to pick up her bag and met Rosie’s eyes as she stood back up.

“The briefing right.”

“Are you going up again?” Lucy asked as she watched her Rosie turn into Major Rosenthal, he still had that sweet smile for her but his demeanor had instantly transformed when the officer appeared.

“Not today, sweetheart.”

“Right.”

“Here let me take that. Gates here is going to drive us over to your place.” Rosie said as he leaned over and pulled the bag away from Lucy’s grasp. She smiled and nodded as he put an arm around her shoulders.

“Hi, I’m Lucy Everett.” Lucy said as she offered her hand to the blonde haired officer who smiled and shook it.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Lieutenant Richard Gates.”

“Ready to go?” Rosie asked from next to her.

“Yes, sir. The Jeep is just outside the station.”

“Perfect, you ready?” Lucy nodded against Rosie’s shoulder and followed behind Richard as they weaved through the crowd.

The entire ride to her place Lucy spent stealing glances at Rosie who was detailing things about Thorpe Abbotts and the upcoming plans for the weekend. She felt a flutter of butterflies as she watched him get all excited about the fact there was a shipment of new jazz records just a few days ago. He was hers and she couldn’t believe it.

The Jeep finally ambled to a stop in front of a small house on the outskirts of town, it had a bright red door and was covered in so much ivy that it seemed ready to swallow the house whole.

“Alright, Crosby said that you need this key for the front door and there’s some food in the kitchen. I wish I could stay longer but-” Rosie said as he pulled out a key from his pocket and helped her out of the car.

“Hey, Rosie, don’t worry about it. Go get your job done and come see me up later, yeah? I’m going to be fine.” Lucy said as she carefully cupped his face and placed a featherlight kiss to his lips.

“You sure?”

“Yes, darling. Now go. I think I know how to open a door.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in a bit.” Rosie said as he pulled away from her and Lucy watched as he eased himself into the front seat. Richard had averted his eyes to the whole exchange but Lucy could see he was smiling to himself.

“You better, bye Major Rosenthal.” Lucy said with a chuckle, Rosie rolled his eyes at her but smiled, waving as the Jeep started and went down the road.

The house, well cottage, was nice. Lucy had wandered down the narrow halls lined with bright green wallpaper, looking for the bedroom. She found a double bed already made up where she quickly deposited her luggage. How the hell Crosby had managed to find this place was beyond her.

For the rest of the afternoon, Lucy ate some snacks and read her book next to the front window. She almost felt slightly stupid waiting for him by the window like some cliche but it was Rosie. So what did it matter if she was a cliche.

When the sun started to set and Lucy had gotten through yet another chapter of The Grapes of Wrath, a loud knock resounded through the house. The sound of distant talking greeted her once she had put down the book and made her way to the front door.

Turning the key in the lock and pulling the door open, Lucy found Rosie leaning against the door frame and another man was across from him. He seemed to be talking about some new training maneuver, but he promptly stopped speaking when he realized Lucy had opened the door.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Rosie. I’m assuming you’re Crosby right?”

“Yes, hi, pleasure to meet you ma’am.”

“Rosie has told a lot about you, it’s nice to finally meet you too.”

“I’m hoping it was all good things.”

“I assure you it was not.” Rosie said, making Lucy turn to him to find that he had a teasing smirk on his face. Crosby proceeded to slap him on the shoulder which had Rosie trying to shield himself and laughing, Lucy just watching on in amusement.

“You’re embarrassing me in front of the lady! Your lady, you idiot. Ms. Everett I can assure you he was telling blatant lies.” At that Lucy burst out laughing and she felt Rosie’s arm coming to circle her middle.

“Please just call me Lucy or literally anything else. Here, come in! I was just about to put on some tea.”

“Oh God, no.” Rosie muttered.

“I would love some.”

“Croz you don’t even like tea.”

“I’m trying to get on your sweetheart’s good side! Stop ruining my plan.”

“If you’re both so against tea, I do have something stronger.” Lucy said once they had all moved to the living room.

“I think I would remember if I stocked this place with alcohol.” Crosby mused, Lucy only cryptically smiled and pulled herself away from Rosie’s embrace. Quickly walking out of the room and bounding up the stairs to the bedroom, where she knew that she had some whiskey stowed.

She overheard the low murmurs and teasing as she walked back down the stairs, now holding a bottle of the amber liquid.

“Rosie, you really lucked out. How does a beautiful woman like that go for you?”

“Oh shut up. I still don’t know how you managed to get Jean to marry you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either sometimes.”

“Hopefully I’m not interrupting but look what I found.” Lucy said as she walked into the living room, waving the bottle around with a smile on her face.

“How the hell-” Rosie started to ask, but was interrupted when Lucy pecked him on the lips and went to grab some cups from the kitchen.

“Thank my editor and that article.” Lucy called out from the kitchen, quickly walking back to give each of the men one of the glasses.

“It did well?”

“Beyond well.”

“I’m so proud of you sweetheart.” Rosie said, as he pulled Lucy into a kiss. She was leaning over him but quickly maneuvered herself to sit on the sofa to deepen the kiss.

“Oh please stop. Remember there is another person here.”

“Sorry, Harry.” Lucy said with a laugh as she pulled away from her Rosie. Instead she leaned her head on his shoulder and uncorked the whiskey, pouring quite a bit into each of the respective glasses.

The night was filled with laughter, stories and lots of whiskey. Lucy was cocooned in Rosie’s hold and constantly felt kisses being pressed into her hair while Crosby spoke animatedly in one of the armchairs.

“So you’re telling me Rosie, Major Robert Rosenthal, didn’t know how to ride a bike? And- and he had to use his life-” Lucy burst into giggles at the same time as Crosby did, Rosie groaned behind her and just pulled her into him more, trying to stop her from laughing.

“It was a low point.” Rosie added and Lucy could feel him shaking his head behind her and taking a sip of his glass.

“Can you at least ride a bike now?”

“Yes, in fact I can. Rather well I would say. Now that we have had enough of Crosby embarrassing me, has he told you the story about how he was so airsick that he nearly sent his plane to France?”

“Rosie…” Crosby groaned out, making Lucy perk up and look between the two men in interest.

“No, no, I got humiliated. Now it’s your turn.”

It was well past midnight and everyone was thoroughly drunk when Crosby called it a night.

“Alright, I’m going to head back to base.” He said, slurring his words slightly, making Lucy and Rosie giggle.

“Harry, it’s fine. You can stay in the guest bedroom.”

“What about- ohhhh, yup sure.” Crosby said with a knowing smile, which had Lucy giggling again and Rosie blushing.

“You know where it is?”

“Yup. I’ll leave you two love birds to it. Oh and Lucy, it was really nice to meet you.”

“You too, Harry. Have a good sleep.” Crosby nodded and walked out of the living room, bumping into several things and cursing.

“Hmmm, I’m so glad you’re here, Rosie.” Lucy said as she snuggled into him more.

“Me too, darling. Ready to go to bed?”

“Yes.” Lucy muttered as she pulled away from him and placed a long kiss on his lips. Rosie’s mustache slightly tickled her skin making her giggle in her drunken state.

Once they finally made it into bed, after taking multiple breaks to just kiss and enjoy the other’s presence, Lucy felt a thrill shot through her body.

Even if they were both too drunk to do anything it still felt incredible to have clean sheets around her and to be encased in the man she loved. Sharing breaths and body heat under the covers.

Rosie woke up with the sun shining brightly in his eyes and the feeling of a warm body next to his. A pang of pain went through his skull and he immediately regretted how much he drank last night, that was until he heard muffled groaning from next to him and he remembered exactly whose blonde curls were currently lying against his chest.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Too early, Rosie. Shhh.” Rosie laughed for a few moments but that movement immediately started to hurt his head so he stopped and instead started to push Lucy’s hair out of her face.

“You look so beautiful.”

“Rosie, I swear if you say another word I will murder you.” Lucy mumbled against him but nevertheless he could feel her smile.

“Alright, alright.” Rosie carefully leaned down and stared at Lucy’s scrunched up eyes before placing delicate kisses over her eyelids and then on the tip of her nose.

“I would love to wake up like this every morning, Rosie.”

“Me too, sweetheart. It will happen soon, I promise.”

Once Lucy had finally detached herself from him, Rosie threw on his shirt from last night and followed her down to the kitchen. Croz was still nowhere to be seen and Rosie honestly assumed that the man was probably trying to sleep off how much he drank last night.

“Hmmm, it seems we have some alone time, Ms. Everett.” Rosie said once he saw the coast was clear. He pulled Lucy away from the pan where she was making some sort of egg dish and twirled her around so he was now directly staring at her admonishing look.

“We had plenty of time for that upstairs, Mr. Rosenthal- Oh.” Rosie interrupted her by placing his lips at the juncture of her neck. Placing little nibbles and featherlight kisses along the length of her neck.

“Oh God my eyes. Fucking hell. This is a public space.” Rosie quickly stopped and whipped around where he was greeted by Croz’s mildly disgusted face.

“Rosie! I told you!” Lucy shrieked at him while slapping him with a tea towel.

“You weren’t complaining a second ago!”

“Oh God, Harry, do you want some breakfast?”

“That and some bleach for my eyes would be wonderful.”

During breakfast the mood was teasing, Rosie kept shooting glances at Lucy who was avidly telling stories about her time in London. The three of them were still trying to recover from hangovers but unfortunately Croz was due back soon since he still had to plan out some routes.

“Hey I’ll see you later, alright? It was truly a pleasure to meet you, Lucy. You’ll have to visit again soon.”

“Will do, Harry. Oh and remember to give me Jean’s address in Rosie’s next letter.”

“Right, I will. Bye!”

“Bye, Croz. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rosie kept his arm around Lucy as they watched Crosby walk over to the bike he had brought with him last night.

“So do you have any plans for today?”

“I thought we could go for a walk?”

“Sounds wonderful, but first I need to get changed.” Lucy said as she quickly pecked his cheek and disappeared into the house. Rosie smiled and closed the door before heading into the living room.

He found a copy of one of Steinbeck’s books on one of the side tables and promptly picked up The Grapes of Wrath. Settling onto one of the armchairs he was careful to leave the marked page alone and turned back to the first page.

“I see you’re already stealing my books?” Lucy’s voice interrupted his reading several minutes later, he looked up from the printed pages to find her looking absolutely resplendent in the morning light. How did he get so lucky?

“Nah, I just wanted something to preoccupy me. How are you liking it?”

“The book? Oh it’s fine.”

“Have you read any other work of his?”

“I think I read Of Mice and Men a bit ago.” Rosie was instantly reminded of that sunny afternoon at the flak house where he had read that same book.

“Come here, you.” Rosie said as he smiled as he put down the book and reached out his arms, which were quickly filled with Lucy a few moments later.

“Hmm? Don’t we need to go on that walk?”

“I would much rather just look at you.”

“You can’t do that for the rest of the day.”

“Watch me.”

Lucy blushed and smiled down at him, leaning to place a kiss on his lips. She pulled away for only a fraction of a second and Rosie found her staring at his lips before she started to kiss him once more.

“Not that I don’t love this but we’re going to be here forever if we don’t leave now.”

“Fine.” Rosie felt himself pout, which caused Lucy to start laughing at him before flitting out of the room.

The countryside of Diss was beautiful, especially in the summer. The sun shined down on the couple as they walked with interlaced fingers through the wild grasses. Rosie was carrying a basket filled with some water and fruit that Lucy had insisted on. And as the bright summer sun beat down on them Rosie was glad that she had persuaded him to bring it.

They found a nice little spot under a tree and proceeded to eat the berries that Crosby had probably somehow found in the market.

“Rosie, thanks for letting me come here.”

“What? Of course, I would always have you here if I could.” Rosie said as he watched Lucy spread out on the grass, leaning her head against his thigh.

“Good, because I never want to leave.”

“That reminds me… when is your train tomorrow?”

“Early, Johnson wants me back to get an assignment bright and early Monday morning, and there are no later trains.”

“Well that’s an inconvenience.”

“I know, love. I’m sorry, I wish I could stay here with you forever but my job…”

“Lu, it’s alright. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m beyond proud of what you’re accomplishing. I just wish we had more time.”

“We’ll have more time after the war. We just need to get through it first.”

“And we will.” Rosie said, firmly and looked at Lucy with a serious look on his face which she mirrored.

“I know we will.”

Lucy felt free. She was standing next to Rosie, making dinner, and it was as if all the worries had drifted away. Lucy had realized that that sort of thing happened only when she was around him, it was as if there was this calming energy just surrounding him like some sort of blanket.

She didn’t want to leave. She knew it was the same old story she had been telling herself when he first left all those weeks ago but now she was the one leaving and it hurt. But she was adamant that she would savor this moment, because Rosie was making his mother’s famous tomato soup again.

“Lucy, here.”

“What? Oh!” Rosie held up the spoon for her to try the soup, Lucy put down the bread she was cutting as carefully sipped the red liquid.

“Rosie, this is incredible, again- You need to give me that recipe.”

“Nope. My ma said we can only give it to family so unless you’re considering becoming a Rosenthal then I’m afraid I can’t.”

“And what if I wanted that to happen?” Lucy said, confidence moving through her like a bolt of lightning. She watched as Rosie nearly dropped the spoon that he was holding and widened his eyes almost comically.

“You mean- I- So if I proposed right here and now, you would say yes?”

“Yes, but I don’t think you have a ring. So wait until the war has ended and then get down on one knee, hmm?”

“You really want to marry me?”

“More than anything.”

“Well then I’ll ask you again when this is all over.”

“You better, Mr. Rosenthal.” Lucy said with a smile so wide that it was starting to hurt her cheeks. Rosie quickly placed the spoon back into the pot before pulling Lucy towards him by the waist and kissing her deeply and passionately and so full of love.

Lucy responded in turn and they spent what felt like forever entwined together, hands tangled in each other’s hair and passionately kissing.

“Rosie… Rosie… we need to eat.”

“Right yeah. Okay.” He quickly said before Lucy felt his lips press against hers once again.

“Rosie. Darling.”

“Okay. Yeah. Food.” Lucy hummed with a smile on her face as Rosie pulled away and started to quickly serve the soup into bowls.

The dinner was laced with tension, Lucy’s knees kept knocking against Rosie’s and they barely uttered a word as they just stared at each other.

“Rosie, let me clean up.”

“You sure?”

“Of course, you cooked. It’s only fair.” Rosie nodded and helped her carry the dishes to the sink. Lucy quickly washed them all the while feeling Rosie’s eyes on her.

“Ready for bed?”

“Hmm, I need to change first.”

“Into that nightgown?”

“Yes, Rosie. Into that nightgown. Just so you know though, we aren’t doing that tonight.”

“Oh I know. I want to save that until we have our own home and a proper bed that doesn’t creak with every movement.”

“Rosie!”

“What?”

Half an hour later, Lucy found herself once again cuddled up against Rosie’s chest. Her fingers were intertwined with the chain that held his dog tags and she could feel him placing soft kisses on her head.

“Good night, my love.” Lucy mumbled as she felt sleep overtake her, pulling her into dreams filled with the man next to her.

“Good night. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Rosie woke up the next morning in a similar way he had the day before. He was holding Lucy in his arms but the English weather decided to take a turn for the worse. The sounds of rain against the windows had Lucy stirring against him. He still couldn’t believe what happened last night actually happened. She said she would marry him. Him!

Butterflies seemed to angrily beat their wings in his stomach when he felt Lucy place a delicate kiss over his heart.

“Hi darling.”

“Hi. Do you know what time it is?”

“Uh- around 830 hours.”

“Good, we can stay here for a while then.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

So the couple laid in between white sheets and just held each other for a few more minutes. They were desperate to cling onto the shreds of time that they had left before they would have to leave each other again.

Lucy felt that time slip away when she started to assemble her clothes back into her suitcase. She could hear Rosie humming and making breakfast downstairs and that familiar pang in her heart reappeared.

What she wouldn’t do so she could stay with him for just a few more hours… but the clock read 9am and her train would leave in an hour, with or without her.

“Breakfast is ready! I even made your tea.”

Lucy laughed as she grabbed the handles of her carpet bag and quickly went down the stairs, depositing her luggage next to her shoes and walking over to the kitchen. Rosie dramatically presented her with a mug that had what looked like tea in it.

She pressed the side to her lips and took a sip of the liquid, surprisingly enough he didn’t mess it up. The milky goodness slid past her taste buds and she let out a groan of satisfaction.

“Thanks Rosie. What did you make?”

“Just toast, I know we need to leave soon.”

“Thanks, darling. I’m all packed and ready.” Lucy said as she accepted the plate with a single piece of toast and some fruit on it.

“Great. Are you excited for the new assignment?”

“Yeah, yeah I am. He mentioned I would get to do some more interviews, which is something I love more than research so hopefully it’s a good one.”

“Everything you write is already incredible.”

“Yeah I’m not so sure about that but thank you.”

“Lucy…”

“What? You get all clammed up when I talk about how incredible you are at flying so don’t think this is all me.” Lucy said, making her point by waving the piece of toast around and pointing at Rosie.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop. When do you want to head out?”

“When we finish this? I want to get the dishes all clean for Croz and then we can walk.”

“Actually I was thinking we could just take my bike.”

“Do you think that’s safe?” Lucy said, raising her eyebrows teasingly.

“Hey! That was a one-time thing. I’m a master now.”

“Sureee.”

“Stop teasing me or else you’ll be walking all the way there while I cruise by next to you.”

“How exactly are you planning on carrying both of us on that thing?”

“You just need to sit on the handle bars.”

“Yeah, no, not happening.”

Minutes later after the house had been checked over Lucy found herself balancing on the handles of the bicycle with her bag on her lap. She was feeling bouts of nervous energy running through her body and she cursed at Rosie the entire way to the train station.

When it finally came into view, Lucy quickly jumped off the bike and took a long deep breath of fresh air. Wobbling slightly on her legs she heard Rosie laugh as he dismounted the bike and leaned it against the brick wall.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Oh Major Rosenthal you don’t want to know.”

“Would a kiss make it up to you?”

“It would be a start.” Rosie chuckled and then pulled Lucy closer to him, placing a kiss on her cheek and then on her lips.

“I almost forgot!” Lucy suddenly exclaimed and then bent down to pull out a book from her bag. “Something to remember me by.”

“Lucy… I don’t think there’s a chance I will ever forget you.”

“I hope so, but you seemed interested and I have one too many books at home anyways. Just make sure to give it back to me, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The sounds of a coming train suddenly resounded and Lucy reluctantly let go of the book.

“I have to go.”

“I know.”

“I love you so much, Rosie. Remember what I told you last night.”

“You’ll be waiting?”

“Always.” The couple turned at the sound of the train pulling into the station, and in a parallel to all those weeks ago when one of them left the other on the train platform; Lucy stepped onto the train and waved. She watched as he waved back and quickly blew him a kiss before disappearing to find her seat.

“I better go buy a ring.” Rosie muttered to himself when the train started to pull away from the station.

just apologizing in advance for the next chapter which although unwritten is going to be A LOT.

taglist: @callumsgirl @justheretoreadthxxs <333

part 4

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