A/N: I have an addiction to receiving feedback, good and/or bad! Enjoy!
Music by Metric. I own nothing but my own character(s).

I. Combat Baby

Get back in town
I wanna paint it black
Wanna get around
Easy living crowd, so flat

It was three in the morning when Cora Larson climbed out of her window and down the fire escape for the last time, carrying her belongings in a sack like Santa Claus. She had left a note on the mantle addressed to her family that told them of her grand plans. No specific details were mentioned so they could not come after her and she purposely signed it with X's and O's. With a smile planted on her china doll-like face, she made her getaway…

"Cora," a voice called softly from behind the bedroom door. "It's time to get up, love."

"Thank you, Mrs. Joel. I'll be out in a second," she replied.

Cora sat up in the warm bed, her hair disheveled from an unusually horrible night's sleep. The eyeliner was smudged beneath her eyes and some of her lipstick had rubbed off on the pillow where her face had smashed into it. She found herself in the same dress she had on last night, which was ripped from climbing through the window. With a deep breath, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. Her uniform was waiting for her in the closet. She quickly dressed and rushed down to the bathroom to wash her face.

The young woman she saw in the mirror was not the same one that she found staring at her in 1942, over two years back. Lately, she wondered where that woman had gone. Her eyes were the same bizarrely dark blue and her hair still fell in free, untamable curls around her. More freckles had appeared on her barely tanned skin, but besides that, nothing about her appearance had changed. She had cried more tears than she cared to and smoked more cigarettes than her rabbi would have preferred, and had consumed enough coffee to keep her awake for decades. The girl she used to see laughed more, teased more, kissed more, hugged more, and made love more than this new person did. She used to be uninhibited, uncontrollable, and slightly undisciplined.

"Who are you?" she whispered softly to the reflection.

Mrs. Joel, a middle-aged widow with two sons of her own, sat at the breakfast table reading the morning paper. She still wore her wedding ring and slept on her side of bed, even six years after her husband's death. She had what Cora considered a devotion that was oddly romantic. The older woman thought of Cora as a younger version of herself. She had no restrictions or limitations, but a part of her was constantly fighting for her life. She was ready for death and yet terrified of what would happen afterwards.

"Tea's in the kettle, love," she told the younger woman when she entered.

"Oh, that's okay, Mrs. Joel. I have to get going. Supposedly, there's tons of work ahead of me today. Thank you for everything, though," Cora said, grabbing a scone and heading out the door.

The chilly English air hit her hard. It was an instantly sobering affect that had her almost sprinting toward the mess hall for coffee. A crowd of familiar faces met her with smiles and laughs as they too downed their breakfasts. George Luz, Frank Perconte, Joe Toye and Bill Guarnere sat at the far end of a middle table. One of them called her over.

"How are my boys doing this morning?" she asked with a dull smile, kissing each of them on the cheek.

"Better now that you're here. I'll tell you, doc, I've got this pain in my back. Think it'll get me home?" Bill asked her, his Philadelphia accent heavy in his words.

"So soon? Stick it out a little while longer, wait until we get into combat, then try that line."

"And until then?"

"Forget it, Bill. Where can a girl get a decent cup of coffee around here?"

"Try London, Cora," Joe said, his voice huskier than usual.

"That's really helpful, you know. What would I do without you, huh?" she sighed, walking towards the percolators that contained her precious beverage.

The men looked after her as she left, partly perplexed by her attitude and partly admiring the way her hips swayed as she walked. "What's gotten in her?" was the question on all of their minds. Since North Carolina, Cora had either been angry or upset. Most of them figured that Herbert Sobel, Easy Company's hated CO, had something to do with it. It was rumored that the two of them were involved with each other, having what the nurses called a "scandalous affair." And it made perfect sense… anyone that knew Cora well enough knew she could be directly manipulative. If she were going to sleep with anyone in Easy, it would be the person she could get the most from. If Colonel Sink were the only person she had to answer to, she'd flirt with him too.

"What's wrong with you? Lately, you haven't been acting like the Cora I know. Where is she?" Luz asked.

The question hung in the air over their heads. The words were trapped in a bubble like something out of a comic book. Cora took a long sip of coffee, the heat burning her tongue. She shrugged and leaned in forward toward the table.

"I don't know. The old girl's on a bit of a vacation, but she'll be back," Cora answered truthfully. "Don't worry about me, okay? The last thing I need is the lot of you fretting over my behavior. I had enough of that from my mother. Anyway, what can you tell me about Tab and whatsherface," she said enthusiastically, dying to know the latest dirt.

"Not too sure really. He's got a couple of broads on the side that we know of, but this new one is a mystery. He's trying to keep it quiet," Frank reported.

"Trying to help her keep her reputation is more like it," Cora added, lighting up a cigarette that she pulled from George's pocket. "Do they honestly believe anything is going to stay a secret around here?"

"Not with you still a part of the company. Is that my cigarette?" George said, taken aback.

"Of course it is. I'll find out what's going on," she replied with a laugh.

"Don't bother. Word'll get out soon enough," Bill said, shoving scrambled eggs into his mouth.

"Fine, have it your way. Half of us are going to be with Sobel today. That should be interesting," Cora said before biting into a piece of buttered bread.

"Christ! Are you serious?" Joe choked.

"That's what he told me last night. One half of the company with him and the other half with Winters. Let us all hope we're in the latter group."

"Tell me about it. If I have to do another drill with that guy, I'm either gonna kill him or myself," Bill growled.

Before another word could be spoken, Carwood Lipton stood in front of the mess hall to make an announcement. Easy Company was told to dress in their gear and prepare for today's activities. Cora wished the boys luck and headed toward Lieutenant Richard 'Dick' Winters. He stood taller than the others around him with red hair that resembled the Georgia clay that used to stain her boots.

"Please tell me we're stuck together today!" Cora said with a happy tone as she walked alongside of him.

"As long as you stop popping up like that," he said to her, almost amused.

"I promise to never do it again, now tell me I'm with you."

"You mean to tell me that you don't want to be led by your lover," Dick replied dryly, still finding her desperation funny.

"Oh, how I do hate you sometimes…" she retorted with a smirk.

"Well, then you'll be glad when we aren't together."

"Stop it! Don't joke about stuff like this, it isn't funny," Cora pouted, clearly annoyed by his teasing.

"It's a little funny," a voice called from behind.

A man with jet-black hair and a cigarette dangling from his lips strode up next to Cora, laughing. He put an arm around her shoulder as they walked, hugging her to him. She gladly leaned in as she glared up at him in frustration.

"Where did you come from, Lewis Nixon? I don't know how you escaped the confines of Hell, but you need to go back there," Cora said while hiding a smile of her own.

"Now, now, Cora. There's no need for hostilities," he said. "Wait a few more weeks!"

She stepped out of his embrace, laughing, and down the road to the Joel house. The road was quiet as usual, the fog hovering down around her. Sometimes, when she couldn't sleep and there was nothing on the radio, she would walk up and down the street, humming songs or listening to the utter silence of the night. On several occasions, she swore that she could hear voices whispering around her, like ghosts trying to tell her things from beyond the grave. Cora ran through the ivy-covered lattice archway and up the brick walk to the blue door. She tiptoed quietly back to her room to grab her helmet, hoping to miss Mrs. Joel as she went. Luckily, the woman was out in the yard, tending to her flowers and shrubs. Cora snuck back out and headed toward the usual meeting place for Easy to receive their instructions. Sobel stood up, waiting for the others to arrive.

"Captain Larson, you're early for once," the CO pointed out as Cora pulled the red medic band up on her arm.

"That surprised, are you?" she replied sardonically.

"To be honest, yes. Especially after last night. I thought you'd still be sleeping."

"Don't pat yourself on the back too hard, Herb. I mean, you were good, but it wasn't your best work," she said, not caring who heard her.

Colonel Sink made it clear to her that sexual relationships with the men were forbidden. Yet, the moment she had met Captain Sobel, she disregarded that rule. Herbert tried hard to hide it, not wanting either of them to get into trouble, but Cora and Sink had an unspoken accord. While she was still the only Easy medic with a highly credible degree in medicine, he wasn't going to dismiss her. Despite her obvious disadvantage of being female, her qualifications kept her in power.

They were divided into their platoons and assigned their platoon leaders. Dick and Cora were, once again, together. Sobel fumed silently, jealous of Cora's obvious liking toward the second in command. For the most part, he knew he had very little to fear since Dick seemed to be invested in nothing more than friendship, but the lieutenant hid his feelings well. Truth was, Richard often unhinged whenever Cora got too close to him. Even when she was caked in mud, he could still faintly smell the scent of cinnamon in her hair. He found himself laughing when she teased him, but all he ever wanted to do was kiss her. He promised himself that if they both lived to the end, he finally would. But until they day came, if it ever did, he tried not to reveal his emotions.

Hours later, the troops sat in the cold rain, waiting for Sobel to show up. Dick finally decided to move out, taking the objective without the commanding officer in attendance. Cora's nostrils flared as walked alongside her best friend, trying to suppress the rage she felt.

"If you can change his ability to read a map and his patience, Cora, you deserve a statue and a room named after you in the White House," he told her, just as irritated.

Suddenly, as they came upon an elderly English gentleman, they heard Sobel's battle cry. The old man, with his hands raised slightly in the air, looked in the direction of the other platoon.

"Would that be the enemy?" he asked.

"As a matter of fact…" Dick began.

"…Yes," Cora finished.

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