"I'll be home for Christmas, you can count on me, please have snow, mistletoe an presents under the tree"
The sounds of the song that had reached top ten in no time sounded thru the open door to the pub. The song that was written to honor the soldiers overseas who longed to be home for Christmas made Nix stop and think about his home. He knew if he had been home, he would have been miserable. In many ways the war had saved him, from his family, his wife and the pressure society put on him as the heir to the Nixon business.
The bitter cold English air nipped at his nose and he tucked his hands deeper into his pockets. He wanted her to be there, but he knew she probably wasn't she never was when he wanted her to be there to greet him with that big bright smile and the tinkle in her eyes. He would never forget the first time he laid eyes on her. After a particularly grueling day with intelligence briefings, he had stepped into the Blue Boar and laid eyes her, he knew from that very moment that he needed her, that he needed to hear her laugh at his jokes the way she was laughing at whatever the GI she was with was saying to her.
Nixon had stepped up to the bar and put himself between the beautiful woman and the GI who's protest had been silenced with a look and a promise to have him cook noodles for rest of the war if he didn't back down. The rest of the night went by in a blur, followed by some fantastic lovemaking. When Nixon woke up the next morning only the scent of her lingered and she had disappeared, she had showed up once more in late September. Same MO and Nixon had been miserable since.
Stepping up to, the door Nixon drew in a deep breath, the smell of booze, cigarette smoke and sadness met him. He had to act as if nothing was bothering him and just go in and try to have fun. The pub was crowded and on the dancefloor, privates and NCO pushed smiling young English girls around in circles, whispering sweet nothings. Nixon searched the crowd for some familiar faces. He eyes landed on a familiar figure at the bar, he knew that long waving hair flowing over a feminine well-sculpted shoulder. He also recognized the hand resting on the small of the young woman's back. The hand belonged to Speirs and the well-sculpted shoulders belonged to the best sniper in Easy Company, Anne. Nixon frowned Anne was the best friend of the woman whose company he craved. Of the woman he needed, he needed her company, to feel her by his side, for her to whisper in his ear how much she wanted him, how much she needed him.
Debating whether he should stay and drink with his friends or if he should turn around and go back to his room and drink until he fell asleep, made him hesitate, but before he could make a decision, Speirs turned around and waved him over. Nixon took a step towards his friends a NCO stepped in front of blocking his view of the bar. When the soldier stepped away Nixon blinked there she was, he felt a big smile appearing on his face. There she was at the bar. When Nixon reached the bar he started to shed his jacket, but a hand on his arm stopped him.
"Let's get out of here," a voice he recognized from his dreams said.
Nixon nodded and escorted her out of the Pub. That night was the best night in his life, when she fell asleep in his arms he whispered he loved her and come hell and high water he would find her, because she was his soulmate. Smiling Nixon drifted into sleep.
When he woke up the next morning, he was alone once again