Betty's Choice
Disclaimers: The Remember WENN characters do not belong to me. And though I could not do as much damage to them as their rightful owners often did, no harm is intended by this piece of fiction -- so don't sue me unless you want to end up with my student loan debts.
"Like they say over at the buttery, Betty, 'I'm ready to take your order. What'll it be?" Victor and Scott both looked at her expectantly.
Betty's eyes narrowed. "'What'll it be?'" she mocked angrily. "Gee fellas, I don't know. What will it be? Maybe you should both go!"
"Betty," Scott started.
"Hush," she snapped as she stormed around them and towards the door. "There is a war on. Thousands of people are dying and you two are using me as some sort of negotiating chip at a bargaining table. If you two want to play your petty little male ego games, do me a favor and leave me out of it!" Betty stormed across the threshold and slammed the door shut behind her.
Scott and Victor watched Betty through the window as she pounded down the hall.
"Well," Scott sighed. "So much for that approach."
"Heya Betty," Maple bounded into the writer's room. "I was wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me or did I just see Scotty in an Army –"
"How dare they put me in that position?" Betty paced breathlessly as she absently thumbed through a script.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Them!" Betty threw the script past Maple and into the hall. "How dare they? I'm supposed to make some sort of life or death decision between the two of them? It'd serve them right if I let them both leave!" Betty stopped her pacing and looked at looked up. "I'm sorry, Maple. What was it you were saying?"
Maple gently closed the door. "Betty, you know that I watch the little game between the three of you as much as anyone else – and I probably enjoy it just as much. I would never wanna tell you who to choose or what to do, but don't do something you'll regret because you're angry. Obviously they must have just done something pretty dumb – and face it, they're men, they do things like that a lot. But war is pretty serious business. What happens if one, or both, of them leaves and don't ever make it back? Victor already 'died' once. Do you want to go through that again over either of them?"
Betty sighed as she slid into her chair. "You're right, Maple. But what am I supposed to do? I can't try to make one of them stay so the other will go. And I don't want either of them to go, but I can't get in their way. Scott's already enlisted. He is shipping out tonight. As best I can figure, his best hope for staying safe is if he takes Victor's job offer in London."
"All things considered, London is a pretty good place to be. Certainly beats knocking on Adolf's door," Maple nodded. "But what about Victor?"
"Victor," Betty rolled her eyes. "He may be staying, or he may be taking that job in London. The military just gave him an assignment that would keep him right here in Pittsburg – safe and sound and working for the war effort with WENN." Betty nodded. "I want Victor – and Scott – to be safe. I guess Victor really will be no matter which assignment he takes."
"I guess that just leaves Scotty, huh?" Maple nodded at Betty sympathetically.
"Yeah," Betty looked up at her. "I guess that just leaves Scott."
"So, Sherwood, what do you say we work this out ourselves?" Victor surveyed Scott closely as he circled his desk and lowered himself into his chair.
"I say that sounds like a mighty fine idea there, Vic." Scott hissed as he crossed his arms. "What do you have in mind?"
"Scott! Victor!" Betty stormed through the door. "What on earth are you doing?" she gapped as she came to an abrupt stop.
"Settling things," Victor grunted through clenched teeth as he tried to pin Scott's arm to his desk top.
"By arm wrestling?" Betty put her hands on her hips.
"Love to chat, Betty. Just gimme a minute," Scott panted as he matched Victor's effort with obvious difficulty.
"What am I, some sort of carnival prize?" Betty's face flushed with anger again.
"This isn't just about you, Betty," Victor huffed as beads of sweat formed across his forehead.
"No, of course not, it's more male ego nonsense." Betty threw her hands in the air. "Well, I've finally made a decision, does anyone want to hear it?"
"Absolutely," Scott answered without breaking eye contact with Victor.
Betty took a deep breath. "I want Scott to take Victor's job in London."
"What?" Scott exclaimed. His arm went slack, and the full force of Victor's strength slammed Scott's arm to the desk with a deafening crack. "Owww!" Scott recoiled his arm in pain.
"You heard me, Scott. I want you to go to London."
"What do you mean you want me to go to London, Betty?" Scott stood to face her, cradling his arm against his body.
"You heard what she said, Sherwood." Victor said jubilantly as he wiped his brow.
Betty ignored Victor's gloating. "Scott, you've already enlisted. If my only choice is for you to be in the thick of the fighting or the relative safety of London, I'd rather you be in London." Scott's face softened. "I don't want you to go, Scott. But since I don't get any say in that, then I want you to be as safe as possible."
"Betty," Victor started.
"Victor, please let me finish," Betty implored, not looking away from Scott. "Neither of Victor's assignments are as dangerous as fighting on the battle lines. But you, Scott, you would be in much more danger if you don't take Victor's job offer in London."
"Betty," Victor insisted.
"What Victor?" Betty snapped, finally looking at him.
"Sherwood is looking a little… green." Victor walked toward Scott. "Are you alright?"
Scott nodded dreamily, not taking his eyes from Betty's face. "Sure. Fine, Vic. I think you broke my arm."
"What?" Victor looked at Scott's quickly swelling wrist. "Oh."
Betty threw her arms around Victor. "Thank you!"
"For what?"
"If you broke his arm, he can't ship out tonight!" Betty let go of Victor abruptly and returned her attention to Scott. "Oh, Scott, I'm sorry. Are you all right?"
"I am now, Betty." He smiled. Betty reached for his arm and he winced. "But I'd probably be better if I went to a doctor."