AU B&W Set during WWII in England. In this AU, Men and Women fight equally together in combat. Myka is Captain and pilot of the 'Shadow of The Night' B-17 bomber stationed in Grafton Underwood RAF base. The RAF ace fighter pilot, HG Wells, her Spitfire nicknamed 'Midnight Angel', is assigned escort duty for the bomber on its special missions over Germany.
Love and angst for B&W set against the backdrop of WWII.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Syfy.
"How much longer?" the captain's voice strained, crackling over the com.
"Twenty seconds," the bombardier answered, her voice high-pitched as she started the count down.
"We don't have twenty seconds," her co-pilot grimaced as they both struggled to hold the flying fortress steady through all the flack that was raining upon them.
"We have no choice, stay on course," the captain's voice, a calm cutting through all the rushed chatter over the radio.
"Running out of ammo," the tail gunner shouted.
"Amanda?" the captain asked.
"On it, Cap' " the gunner replied, rushing aft with the metal box tucked under her arm.
"Here, Josh." Amanda saying as she loaded the clips into the .50 gun, blowing away its smoke from the open latch.
"Locked and loaded," slapping the tail-gunner on his back with one hand as she slapped the latch closed on the gun.
"Go check on Claud?" he asked, his eyes trained on the German Messerschmitt in his crosshairs. "Damn, they are breaking off!"
"Captain, the Messer's are breaking off, we must be near …"
"We know sergeant, drop zone ahead," both the captain and her co-pilot said in unison.
"How much longer, Donovan?" her voice gritting through her teeth as she struggled to hold the plane on course.
"We just lost tail-end Charlie and half of our escort," Pete said, his eyes glazing over to his Captain
"10, 9, 8," Claudia was counting down.
"Myka?"
"Stay the course, Lattimer," Myka hissed, her biceps straining to keep the plane steady.
"We've lost the number two engine!" Pete shouted over the roar of anti-flack fire popping around them, smoke starting to swirl around the cockpit.
"3, 2, and one!" the bombardier shouted over the com.
"Bombs away," Myka replied in a steady, calm voice. "All planes turn around, after payload,"
"Great, now for the fun part," Pete smirked as they struggled with the controls as they flew through the flack.
"Claud?"
"Yes! Direct hit, all clear captain," Claudia was saying as she pumped her fist.
"We have 5 when clear of the flack, eyes on the sky, gunners," the speaking to all the planes.
"Jinks? You still with us?" Claudia asked over the planes com.
"Yup, right as rain," the bottom turret gunner replied.
"Stop all the chatter," Myka growled over the radio, "We still need to touch down,"
"Ever the optimist," Amanda grinned as she steadied her hand on the bombardier's shoulder. The plane groaning and shaking, causing them to stumble as she smiled.
"How are we on ammo?" Myka asked as she steadied the plane.
"Just dandy, cap. Am ready to kill me some Nazis," Josh grinned as he reloaded the .50 nose gun.
"That should make tail-end Charlie feel better," Myka said in a cold, icy tone, her turning to look out the window, watching as the plane descended to its fiery death.
"They were just kids," Myka whispered to herself, her hand muffling her remark from the plane's com.
"We all knew what the risks were when we signed up," Pete said, his face falling as he guided the plane back to friendly skies. "You okay, Cap?" Pete whispered to Myka.
She bristled his hand away, all business as she squared her shoulders, giving a 'don't you dare' look at her co-pilot.
Her green eyes as cold as the icy waves that lapped against the rocks of the channel they were getting ready to cross. 'The dark green Ice Queen' would be a silent joke among the crews of the other bombers. None readily admitting to their gratitude at Myka's stoic coolness that kept them landing, safe, from each mission.
"All clear, heading for the Channel, count off," Myka radioing to the other planes to sound off. The lump in her throat grew as the last plane, tail-end Charlie, did not respond. The low crackle of empty air over the radio and com systems was deafening to all.
Myka knew she needed to calm the squad of bombers under her command, them looking to her leadership and calm as they counted off.
"The rookies didn't make it," plane 6 sounded off.
"Enough chatter, keep radio silence till we clear the channel, Shadow out," ripping her head set off, she flipped the controls over to her co-pilot.
"Take over, I'm going to inspect." Myka commanded, unstrapping herself from her harness.
"Sure, not like I can't handle this baby with just three engines," Pete smiled.
"I'll be back, Nancy, hike your skirt up, it's going to be a bumpy night," Myka winked, her hand gripping her co-pilots shoulder, then leaving the cockpit.
"How bad?" she asked when she come upon her mechanic and right gunner, Amanda.
"Just the usual flack hits, but that number two is going to need some overhaul," she replied, them lurching forward at the last spit of the engine dying.
"A complete overhaul," she murmured, their eyes locking.
"We can make it back to base?" Myka's eyes steady on her mechanic and friend.
"Just fly us home, Cap, I'll take care of the rest," smiling to Myka
XXX
After the de-briefing with Major Valda and all the crews, Myka headed for the back of the warehouse hangar, pulling the can of tuna fish out of her leather flight jacket.
She smiled to herself as she heard the faint meow echoing through the near empty hangar, her head down, concentrating on opening the can with her K-ration key.
"Here you go, Sammie," her smiling as the one-eyed black cat halted before her, the feline then sniffing at the fish smell that lingered on Myka's outstretched fingers.
She smiled, shaking her head as the cat backed away, it's head then turning to the can she had set down near the wheelbase of one of the new, RAF Spitfires that had just come in during their raid.
The cat had stopped, its hair standing on end, its tail bushy as it sniffed the wheel, turning the one good eye, blinking at her.
"Don't look at me, I didn't ask for these things," shrugging her shoulders as her fingers traced over the fuselage of the plane. "You know I love my flying fortress," Her thumb then rubbing over the blank spot where the name had yet to be painted on.
Myka turned, hearing a faint purr, her then letting out a sigh as she slunk down against one of the I-beams of the hanger. Watching as the skitteress feline sat back, tearing into the can of fish.
"We lost half our escorts, the RAF and us Yanks, and tail-end Charlie, tonight. They were just kids" she said, her hand coming up to her face, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed into the palm of her hand.
"I don't know how much longer I can do this," she whispered into her hand, "They need their 'ice queen' , yeah, I know what they call me," then giving a half sob/chuckle as the cat rubbed its head against the tip of her boot after finishing it's meal. Slicking her hand over her nose, sniffling as she steadied herself. Wiping just under her eyes, wishing to will away the tears.
"Some 'cold-hearted, by the book bitch' that I am," Myka then sucking a harsh breath, giving her head a quick shake.
The cat sat, licking its paw, then wiping it over its ear and jaw, its one eye half closed in silent contentment. Myka knew he was listening to her ramble even though he never looked at her, but his ears were pointed toward the sound of her voice.
"And you, you little snob, get to stay here, safe," Myka smiled to the feline as he laid next to her boot, her legs crossed over her ankles as her head thumped softly against the iron I-beam in the hangar. Her eyes, half closed, a lopsided grin forming as she watched the skittish cat then slowly make its way onto her shins, her legs parting just a bit as they, pilot and stray cat, settled.
She looked through half-lidded eyes; the half-moon shone its faint glow through the open hangar door, illuminating the polished aluminum of the fuselage of those new Spitfires's.
"The British are coming," Myka hummed in a low breath.
Sammie then looking up, his head jerked to the right at being disturbed from his post-meal nap. Then stretching as he rested his head on Myka's knee. "Sorry, little man, I know us 'Yanks' have already invaded". Her fingers then brushing lightly on the crown of his head.
XXX
"Hey, hey hey, stop Major," Pete whispered as he grabbed Artie by the shoulder, pulling the older man away from the hangar door.
"I need to speak with Captain Bering," his bushy eyebrows raised, his eyes looking at the hand on his arm.
"Just give her a few more minutes, okay?" Pete was saying as he guided them away from the hanger. "She needs her post-flight ritual,"
Pete had been leaning back, his shoulder pressed against the door of the warehouse hangar, peaking in to check on his 'adopted' sister every few minutes. Nobody knew of her break downs, of her weak side. 'Stoic. Ice Queen, by the book, Bering, ice runs through her veins' would be whispered through their years together. Little did they know of her nightly ritual since their training days back in Colorado.
X
Their very first mission, their very first post-training flight in that old B-17 bomber, the landing gear had seized, Myka landing the plane on its belly, minutes before first grabbing the turret gunner out before touch down.
The flight crew had gathered around the still smoking plane, them looking to their new Captain, none saying a word as she came back around the plane with her new mechanic, Amanda. They all then stood straight, saluting her after she had inspected the damage to the bottom turret and landing gear.
"First round is one me," Pete said as he turned to the crew, rubbing his hands together with a big grin on his face. "Myka?" he asked. She had turned after returning the salute to her new flight crew, turning to look for furthest hanger away from everyone.
"Hey, wait up," Pete called out as he jogged down the airfield. Myka halted, her hand coming up to wipe at the tear on her cheek, faking to tucking a stray curl that had come loose from her tight bun, her back to her friend. A sharp breath was drawn as she cleared all emotion from her face, then turning.
"I need a 'few', okay?" her body stone cold but Pete could see the storm raging in her eyes.
"Um, yeah. Okay, see you soon?" his thumb pointing over his shoulder. Myka just stood still, her head then tilting toward the old hanger. His stomach was in knots, the full force of unsaid pent up emotions from his captain and friend hit him like a ton of bricks.
Myka watched for a few seconds as Pete walked down the landing strip before she turned, bee-lining for the refuge away from everyone.
He turned, and then silently followed behind as he watched her go into the empty building, collapsing down in the empty hangar, her adrenaline shaking her body as she leaned against an old plane.
He was about to come in, an orange cat rushing then between his feet, causing him to trip and fall just outside. He held in his curse as he started to push himself up, then freezing at the site before him.
He lay on the cold asphalt, watching the stray, ratty cat rub up against his captain. "What the hell?" he whispered to himself, then wiped the small cut on his chin against his arm as he had just crossed them, resting his jaw on his arms, his body prone outside the hangar door as he watched the scene unfold.
Myka had turned, smiling down at the flea-bitten orange tabby. "And where did you come from?" she whispered as she reached into the pocket of her flight jacket.
"Hey!" Pete then shutting his mouth at Myka offering up his 'snack' she always would keep stashed for him.
"Better have cookies in the mess hall," Pete mumbled into his forearms, his legs crossing as he laid still, watching his best friend open the can, humming softly as she set the can down, then backing down against the tire of one of the planes.
He watched as she wiped at her cheeks, sniffling as she raised her head to look out the hangar window above. The glow of the half-moon shining down on them both.
"We made it," Myka half laughed, shaking her head, a few curls coming loose from her tight bun. Then all her emotions came pouring out, tears streaming down her cheeks as she rattled off everything that went wrong with the flight, of her having, no, needing to make sure all her people would live to see the sun rise.
She bumped the back of her head a few times against the tire, forcing herself to stop crying at the thought of losing anyone under her charge. 'With war, there are casualties' the voice of her training office echoing in her head.
"But not tonight," she whispered, her head bowed, watching the shed tears pool on the floor. The content purring shaking her from her thoughts.
"See you tomorrow, same time?" Myka had said, wiping her cheeks as she stood up, her eyes smiling as the tatty feline rubbed her leg, licking at the few pieces of his meal stuck on his whiskers as he softly meow his thanks.
Every night, after each flight, Pete would sneak, following Myka to that old hanger, watching as she fed the orange tom cat. Each night, grateful that they had made it safely back to the ground.
X
"So, you think Lucky 13 will miss you?" Pete had asked as they flew over the English Channel towards their assignment.
"Who?" Myka asked, never looking at him as she adjusted the flaps, readying their descent on to the airfield.
"That orange cat of yours, back in C-town, the one you met up with every night in hangar 13?" his eyes darting sideways at her.
"You spied on me?" Myka huffing as she leaned the collar forward, alighting the bomber down on the tarmac.
"Hey, just saying, we all have rituals and from the looks of things, you and that cat have kept us alive," Pete was saying as they taxied down the runway.
"Maybe you can find a 'friend' over here?" Pete had said as they unloaded their gear, him then hitting Myka's arm, her head popping over her duffle bag with a death glare that would usually send Pete running. But, instead, he just smiled and nodded his head toward the old building down the strip. A quick flash of black fur had raced behind it, then peaking, with one good eye around the corner of the hangar.
XXX
"Damn pilots and this nonsense with superstitions" Artie grumbled. "If she wasn't the best, I would have her and your ass transferred state-side,"
"Hey, those rituals keep us coming back," Pete said, his boyish charm leaving his eyes as he looked down at the Tarmac.
"Fine, but when she is done, I need her in my office at 0600, got it!"
"Yes, sir!" Pete stood straight, saluting the Major.
"Also, I need an update on the repairs to the Shadow from … what's her name, that mechanic," Artie waving his hand over to the plane sitting on the Tarmac.
"Amanda, her name is Amanda and she said the number two engine needs a complete overhaul and some patch work where we got some flack," his eyes trained on the man as he lowered his salute.
"Down time?" Pete was hopeful.
"You can't fly, right?"
"Yeah ...right?" Artie's eyes rose as he looked at his number two pilot.
"Go, get the hell out of here," he gruffed. "But, make sure you have Myka back here for new orders, got it?"
"Got it boss, Sir, Moi captain," Pete was saying as he started to turn back to the hanger, jogging backwards as he saluted.
"That is MAJOR Neilson to you!" Artie shouted to the retreating form.
"Children, I work with children," he grumbled.
Artie was walking back toward headquarters, his papers then flying up out of his hands as he stopped in his tracks at the shadow figure in front of him. His hands fidgeting, his body bending, then snapping up as he saluted the General in front of him.
"General Fredrick," his words sputtering out as he first saluted, then bending down to retrieve the papers, only to snap back up at the clearing of her throat.
"I ... I was just going to see Captain Bering and …" his mouth closing in a snap at the raised hand in front of him.
"Have you talked with Captain Bering yet about these new mission?" her eyebrow arching.
"Not yet," he sighed, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "I gave them a week's leave while the Shadow is repaired," clearing his throat as he looked at the ground.
"Good, a weeks' time shall be sufficient," the general said, before turning, she addressed him.
"And of any hint to her new escort?"
"No! no? I did not speak with her yet." Artie then twisting at the words of her question.
"Should I?"
"No, not for now Arthur, let's see how things play out. This mission is vital to the war … let's say, that a rather unique bond has to be established between pilot and escort for success, if we are to win this war, each battle must be won , Major Neilson"
"And we are winning each battle with Myka at the forefront and …" Artie shaking his head at the empty air. He had turned to step on a piece of paper he had yet to grab off the ground, the General disappearing as quickly as she had appeared.
XXX
"Come on grumpy pants, London is calling!" Pete grinning as he burst into the female quarters, the doors slapping at the walls as they bounced.
"What the hell!" Claudia jumped, her notepad clutched against her chest, Amanda smirking as she stood up, readjusting her coveralls, grabbing her tool belt.
"London is it?" Amanda smirked as she placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"Sorry babe, but Artie only gave me two passes and, I quote 'You and Captain Bering,' "raising his fingers in the air, dipping them with quotes.
"It's okay, I have to ready the Shadow anyways," her smiling as she walked out the door. "Besides, we all know it would be incest with you and Myka," her shoulders bristling at her words.
"Ewww, did not need to hear that," Claudia said as she shut her journal, "It would be like Josh and I and … now I have to throw up, thanks for that," Claudia shouted to the closing doors as she got up, heading to latrine. Myka was grinning as she hiked her book up to cover her smile.
"So … London?" Myka said after Claudia had rushed out of the dorm. "You and me? Tearing the town up and showing these Brits how things are done by us Yanks?" Myka grinned.
"That's what I am talking about!" as Pete pointed to her, then rushing to help pack up her gurney sack.
"Say? Do you have any civvies,? A dress or something?" Pete was asking, his back turned as he held up the pants Myka had.
"And why would I need a dress? My dress uniforms are it and civvie shirts and pants" she said, her back turned as she packed up her gurney.
"Just saying, what if you met the man of your dreams, or woman?" his eyes shooting up as Myka's fist was raised toward him.
"Geezs Myka, I have no idea what you date. It's not like I have ever seen you with anyone, besides that scruffy cat in hanger 13?" Myka punched Pete's arm after they had loaded their gear into the jeep.
X
"Hey, I'm just saying that if you are into Pu …" Pete grinning as they raced through the English country side.
"If you finish that heathen thought," Myka said, punching Pete's arm again.
"Look, Myka. I know when we lose people in our squad, it hits you hard," Pete was saying, his shoulder hiking up, and ready for the next punch that never came. He opened the one eye he had squinted shut, ready for the 'wrath of Myka' but none was forthcoming, he pulled the jeep aside.
Setting the parking brake, he turned; tapping on her shoulder, her head was turned toward the forest. Trying her best to ignore him.
"Hey?" poking his finger at her.
"What?" Myka said, her face still turned away.
Pete was always there for his friend, after meeting at the army air corps training base in Colorado Springs those many years ago; Myka was cold and stand-offish with the pilots-in-training, most ignoring her throughout training. Pete had overheard grumblings and petty jealousies from some of the others as the training officers would praise her almost unnatural abilities at flight. Of her always receiving the highest scores on any and all written assignments.
He was reminded of his younger days in school, how the other kids ostracized his sister because of her deafness. Watching Myka those first few weeks, reminded him of his sister and so he felt it his duty to strike up a friendship with her after hearing some of the others referencing her as 'Ice Queen'.
Many a fight and plenty of trips to the principal's office in high school almost deterred his officer's commission, "Can you believe it? I mean the army knows about all those fights I got into in school," Pete mumbled between mouthfuls as they sat, just the two them at one of the tables in the mess hall.
"The government is all knowing, Lattimer," Myka shaking her head at the amount of food Pete could consume in one sitting. Myka always grabbing a few cans of spam and tuna fish to shove in her pockets before leaving the mess hall. Ready to hand one over to him during long training flights, 'So I don't have to listen to the roar of your stomach over the engines' she would say with a stern look on her face.
Her smile faded as she cleared her throat, "Pete. I just want to thank you," her words coming out softly.
"For what? Oh, are you going to eat that?" him leaning over with his fork, stabbing at the slab of ham Myka didn't finish on her tray.
"For helping me to…" Myka sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she slid her tray to him, "For helping me find my voice when I had none," Pete raised his eyes from her food tray, a quizzical look forming as he chewed. Myka sighed as she knew she would have to go into more detail.
"For taking me under your wing, so to speak. Without you pushing me to ignore those asses that were jealous and to be the best officer and pilot … what?" Myka asked, becoming annoyed at the grin spreading.
"The ice queen said ass," Pete chuckled. "My work is done with you,"
"Shut up and finish chewing your food, with your mouth closed," Myka them smiling as Pete bumped her shoulder.
X
Their one kiss, on a drunken night of leave had killed all thoughts of anything physical between them. Pete had woken that morning, his head pounding, and his mind screaming 'no no no, please tell me nothing happen'.
Him then sighing in relief' at the sight of Myka, peacefully sleeping on the make-shift bed on the floor of her apartment near the base. It hit him like a ton of bricks that morning, Myka was like his sister, always looking out for him, hell, even though he had been a sloppy drunk that night, rambling on about how the ladies loved 'little Pete' as she helped him up the stairs.
"Sure they do," Myka patting Pete's head as they made it inside the room.
Folding out her bed for him, Pete had grabbed Myka, not hard but more clumsy, as she bent over him, tucking the blank around him. The kiss was sloppy, his lips connecting more with her chin than anything else. "I love you, Myke's," Pete slurred as he fell back on the foldaway couch. "You're like the sister I never had,"
"You have a sister, Pete," Myka rubbing her arm against her chin to remove his slobber as she turned, grabbing a few blankets.
"The floor, it is," she sighed as she made a small nest out of the blankets on the floor.
"But she is not here and you are, so that makes you my sister," Pete mumbled into his pillow.
"Good night, Pete" her yawning as she cocooned herself on the floor.
Watching and praying to the porcelain God for half the morning, he told Myka how he felt, that he really needed to stop drinking. That was a somber moment that was then interrupted, both listening to the radio as news poured in on the invasion in Poland.
"He needs to be stopped," Myka whispered.
"Who?" Pete was shaking, his hand hovering over the bottle of Gin Myka had at her place.
"Hitler," Myka replied as she walked into her kitchen, grabbing a glass of water for him. Her heart was in her throat as she watched Pete's hand tremble over the bottle.
"Pete?'
"Myka, I need help?" his hands shaking, his head falling into her shoulder after she had come to the couch, crying as she smoothed over his back.
"I've heard of this guy and a small group, Bill W. is his name," she said over her shoulder as she turned on the water, her hand tested the water, then smiling up as Pete leaned against the open door of her small bathroom.
"Come on, big brother, a bath will help. While you are in here, I am going to see if I can find this guy," Myka, her brow scrunched with worry as she closed the door behind him.
XXX
Pete rolled his eyes as he opened the door to the adjoining rooms they shared at the small Bed and breakfast place just outside of London.
"Come on Mykes, it's been almost a full day since we got here and all you have done is hole up in this place, reading," Pete huffed. "Or in that park, still, reading!"
The first day in London was trying her last nerve. Exhausted from the drive on those rock hard seats in the jeep and the last mission, all she wanted was some quiet time to herself to relax for a day or two. Tired of Pete constantly interrupting her reading with childish pleads to 'check out the not old stodgy sites, if know what I mean' waggling his eyebrows.
"That's it!" Myka slamming her book shut as she got off the bed, "Pete, why don't you and 'little Pete' go ogle the sites without me " Myka grabbing her civvies jacket, "I am going to find some peace and quiet," Myka huffed as she put her jacket on, then shoving a book under her arm as she marched out the door.
Myka brushed away the orange and red leaves from her lap that fell after finding the perfect bench under the Maple tree in the park near downtown. This first afternoon, she had spied the slight-build woman coming toward her, her manner of dress catching her eye as she ran by her. Myka had lowered her book at the strange sight. She thinking that maybe the woman was military by the color of training clothes that were similar to the one's she wore while training in the army.
"Excuse me, but may I?' Myka nodded and slightly lifted her eyes to the shoe the woman was re tying as she set her foot on the wooden slats of the bench near her.
"Good read?" that soft accent filling her ears.
"Sort of, War of The Worlds," Myka chuckled as she held the front of the book up, her forefinger pressed into the page she had left on.
"Very aperope," the soft accent thickening as she finished tying her shoe. "Considering all that is happening around us." the woman then was standing straight, her hand reaching up and behind to smooth over her tight ponytail, then dropping to point toward a burnt out shell of a building in the distance.
"That was the Vicar building the family owned, before the attack. Been in their family for over three hundred years." Myka could just detect a slight hint of meloncollie in the voice as the woman's eyes were trained on the burnt out ruble.
Myka watched as the woman gave a slight shake of her head then turning to face Myka as she continued, "They had the most quaint little tea room," she could hear the change of cadence in the voice as she continued, Myka then placing her book in her lap, giving the woman her undivided attention. Something about how she addressed Myka directly, herself finding, for a fleeting moment the need to remind herself to breath as expressive Mahogany eyes held hers.
"Where are my manners!" the woman then moving into Myka's personal space as she extended her hand out, "Helena, by way of Essex," her smile was almost blinding though the day was clouded over. Myka looked at the proffered hand, slender, almost delicate fingers melded into a firm palm, slightly tinged with callouses and a pink hue was offset by the pale, almost porcelain white skin that traversed a beautifully sculpted arm.
"And you are?" the accent shaking Myka out of her thoughts, her then clearing her throat, praying that the warmth she was feeling on her cheeks were caused out of the sun trying to peek through the clouds.
"I'm sorry, I got lost there for a moment, Myka, by way of Colorado," she smiled as she felt the warmth of this woman's palm pressing against hers. Myka ducked her head down, shuffling her book off her lap as a diverted tactic, praying that her teenage lament of blushing at the wrong time had not come back to haunt her.
"Well, Myka, by way of Colorado, I must excuse myself, time is fleeting and I must run," Helena smiling as she held their entwined hands, turning Myka's as she bowed, gently kissing the back of Myka's hand.
"Are you always this chivalrous?" Myka trying to weigh her voice as to not come off as a giddy school girl as their hands parted.
"We shall see," Helena smiled as she started off, winking over her shoulder
Myka taking note of the time as the lithe figure jogged away from her, "Same time, tomorrow?"
Closing her mouth as quickly as she said those words. 'Where is this boldness coming from?' she wondered to herself. Never, in all her years had she, Myka Bering, been this bold and flirtatious with a complete strange.
"Only Queen and crown shall deter me," Myka shaking her head as she re opened her book.
"No cockiness there," she mumbled, the faint figure slowly ebbing from her eye sight.
X
"Believe it or not, some people find books entertaining,"
"Really? The greatest bomber pilot in the entire world is a book nerd?" Pete throwing his arms up as he set down the bag. "I mean, come on! Do you have any idea how many men; women would be falling at your feet? I mean, you, in your dress browns, your rep as a pilot?"
"No, and you know I am not like that," her voice soft as she closed her book, rising up, grabbing at her gunny sack as she walked into the bathroom.
"I mean, geezes, Mykes, we are in London, a week pass and all you have done is hole up, reading!" Pete huffed as he pulled out the newspaper wrapped fish and chips.
After he finished off his fish and chips. Myka came out of the loo, the steam swirling around her, her hands brushing down her uniform.
"What?"
"Nothing?" Pete throwing his hands in the air. "Does this mean you want to go out?"
"Only if it means it will shut you up about all of this," Myka was saying as she grabbed her wallet, her facing smiling as she found a few American bills mixed with pounds.
"Come on Lattimer. Time to show a girl a fun time," Myka smiled, hooking her arm into his as they made their way down the street.
The pub they final settled on was noisy, Myka bumping shoulders with a few sots as she mapped out her space at the bar. Rubbing at the hairs that stood up on the back of her neck. 'Am I being watched' she mumbled, nodding her head in thanks at the pint set in front of her.
"Hey, I thought you stopped?" her hand covering the pint that the bartender set in front of Pete.
"I did, I am, hold that thought," Pete grinned as he handed the beer to a man standing behind him.
"Thanks, cheers" the man said as he hoisted his glass. "You two stationed near by?"
Myka eyed the man carefully as she raised her glass, looking the man up and down over the rim of her glass, "We are on leave," Myka responded, a little curt.
"Well, the next round is one me, cheers!" both Myka and Pete watching the man move through the crowd, making his way closer to the loud singing coming from the far side of the pub.
"Oi oi oi!" the slamming of fists and glasses on the wooden tables startled Myka as she looked behind her, her breath hitching at the beauty that had her glass raised, singing with the crowd of admirers that surrounded her. Then leaning in as the blonde man who was just chatting with them said something next to Helena's ear.
"Everyone!" the man then banging on the table as the crowd settled, "Seems we have be graced tonight by a couple of brave soldiers from America, let's give them a proper welcome!" the man then raising his hands, waving as if his conducting London Philharmonic himself.
Pete grinned as the crowd started to sing, "The Yanks are coming, the yanks are coming " the rowdy group still singing as Myka turned back to the bartender,
"Say, would you have any whiskey?" the man behind the bar just grinned, "None of the Kentucky stuff, sorry, love." his face then lighting up as he looked past Myka.
"Don't be such a wanker, Charlie. There is a bottle of that 'Jack' bourbon behind the bar. Let's show a proper welcome," Myka turned at the sound of that familiar voice. Only now, they were both standing, the woman, again, was invading Myka's personal space.
"I see that we meet again, Myka, by way of Colorado," Helena then holding Myka's hand, bowing her head to brush her lips against the back of her hand.