The Huntress and the Wolf
Rip Van Winkle sat in her private quarters. Staring down at the files scattered across her desk. She could not believe what she was reading, from the Sturmbannführer himself, she was going to be at the forefront of operation Seelöwe 2, she was to capture the aircraft carrier Eagle, she was to weaken Brittan's costal defense. Her mind was rushing with excitement. A greater honor from Herr Major could not be imagined. To be the leading attack as they plunged into Hell, to take command of a ship and lead the assault on London. The Major would not be disappointed in her, Rip surly thought Zorn or the Captain. Rip stopped as the name rung thru her head, the Captain she thought to herself, she wouldn't get to be with the Captain. Rip lay down on her bed. The Captain she thought, she wanted to be on the battlefield with him. She began to feel tears welling behind her eyes, how sad she thought, after fifty years of being by his side she would trade all of those years away to be with him on the night of war. Fifty years of being with him and she never told, never confessed, fifty years seem so short to an immortal, and they went by so fast. Rip cried into her pillow, she didn't want to descend into Hell, not alone, not without Him. She didn't care if she if she wasn't His partner, she didn't care that He may never understand how she felt, she didn't care, she just wanted to be with him, by his side that was enough to make her happy, to make her smile. She hugged her pillow; she was leaving in just a few days.
Rip Van Winkle was about to step aboard the helicopter, she was heading towards her destiny, the rushing blades blowing her hair around. Everyone was their was there to see her off, the Doctor, the Major, and him. Rip looked inside the helicopter. It felt more like she was looking inside of her future more than anything else. Rip was just about to climb in when she reminded herself, no regrets. Rip stepped down from the platform and ran back to the Caption; she pulled him into a kiss giving him all her passion into her lips. She pulled away, and looked at him; he was staring into her eyes, into her heart into the darkest corners of her soul. She could not bear it; she could already feel the hot tears rising up. She turned around and ran back towards the helicopter back to her fate, back towards her destiny. She had told herself no regrets, but that's all there was, regret. Regret that she would never see him again, regret that in fifty years she never told him her feelings, regret that she would not be there by his side on the battlefield, and regret that they would not descend into Hell together. That's all there was regret, her sadness, her love.