Um... Well, it's probably redundant, but here's my take on Alfred/Marilyn. Pardon my tendency to go on and on. ^^;
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Alfred was absolutely sure that the war would be over in no more than a year, or at least that's what he told himself, ever mindful of the need to think positively. Things hadn't exactly been going to plan, but they were going as well as could be expected... but FDR wasn't doing so hot and Alfred was worrying that the VP wouldn't be up to taking over. You know, if...
But the Dream Factory was still in full swing, and like most Americans Alfred could always count on the movies to give him a much-needed dose of optimism. Standing on the battlefields with the dead and dying, Alfred couldn't muster up the we'll-lick-'em-good-this-time mindset he needed; at the same time, he couldn't risk letting the public know if he ever thought differently, because Mr. President had ordered all concerns to remain on a need-to-know basis. There was no point in making the folks at home even more worried about their loved ones, especially now that the war was coming to a close, and it was easier for Alfred to bite his tongue and smile reassuringly after hours in the comfortable dark of the moviehouse.
In '44 he made the rounds on the homefront as well as on the field, watching and listening to the eyes and ears of the United States, making sure that war production stayed up and morale did the same, and in between he saw endless war movies (some good, some not) and even more Westerns (which he always watched with a pang of nostalgia), and he was whistling 'Meet Me In St. Louis' across the Radio Plane Munitions factory floor as Davy Conover said something about really cheering up the troops when Alfred's eyes met a pair of eyes just as blue, peeking out from under the de facto hairnet and red-auburn bangs. The woman (girl?) smiled, almost shyly, and Alfred was struck by the sheer sense of prettiness around her: Not the so-delicate type, no, but there was something...
Davy stopped talking and fidgeted, eyebrow arched; you didn't just poke the avatar of your nation after all, even if you're getting behind on your schedule and the photo-shoot needs to go ahead and... David's eyes followed Alfred's gaze across the floor and slam-banged right into a knockout of a woman, and David reacted with the bright smile and raised camera that was his best line.
"'Scuse me miss, David Conover for Yank magazine, you ever think of being a model before?"
The war was won the following year, and there was too much to do for Alfred to keep in touch with her, the girl who said her name was Norma Jean. David commented he didn't think a name like that belonged on a body like hers, but Alfred shrugged; he knew what it was like to not look your name, so he wasn't too surprised to find out that she'd changed it. He was surprised to find she'd gotten a divorce, since he hadn't guessed that she was married, but... Well, a girl like her, why wouldn't she be? But things were changing fast and although Alfred would pick her name out on automatic as he scanned the papers, there wasn't much else he had time to do.
Alfred was there at the premiere, though, of All About Eve, asked to come by Bette and spending most of the night around the tightly-knit core of MGM stars. Marilyn was popular as well, looking her best (she was a blonde now) and positively angelic, and when he approached she smiled beautifully - still with just a touch of shyness - and said she didn't think someone important like him would remember her, but she hoped he liked the film.
There wasn't long to talk, but Alfred thought he liked Marilyn, even though he couldn't quite say why. Of course she was beautiful, but there was something else he couldn't quite put his finger on...