ROXANNA POV

"I'm warning you, Joe. Do not get involved in this," I whispered. "Buck's just reeling in the new kid. I know him. He'd never smile like that when he was losing. He is up to something."

Joe Toye had been carefully watching a dart game in which Buck and Luz were teamed up against Bull and one of our new replacements, a red-headed Philly native named Babe Heffron. Buck, a star football player and All-American catcher, seemed to be struggling. I hadn't really paid much attention to the game, and I couldn't see Buck from where I was standing, but I noticed that Joe was practically salivating over the idea of drawing Buck and George into a wager on the next game. I knew it would be a mistake. Buck didn't gamble unless he was sure he would win.

"Come on, Rox. You saw him throw!" he argued, and then turned back to the group and promptly entered into a bet for two packs of smokes per man on the first one to hit the bullseye. I stepped up beside Joe for a better view of the action, and immediately noticed how Buck had managed his hustle so convincingly. No wonder he was smiling. I let out a laugh of my own and cleared my throat as he appeared to carefully size up the dart board.

"Um, Buck?"

He glanced over with a playful glint in his eye, realizing that I'd figured him out, and answered me with a sugary-sweet, "Why, yes, Roxanna?"

"I was just wondering when you were planning on telling them that you're actually right-handed."

He broke into a wide smile and switched hands as the two swindled men looked between us in disbelief.

"Roxie baby, what would I do without you?" he asked, punctuated by the stick of his dart in the center of the bullseye.

As George collected the winnings, Joe shot me a dirty look.

"I thought you loved me, Rox."

"I do love you! I didn't see what he was up to until after you'd already made the bet. Besides, I warned you to stay out of it."

"Yeah well, that was all of my cigarettes until rations come in."

"Oh Lord, George, Joe isn't going to have any cigarettes and I'm not dealing with all that! Give the man his smokes back!"

"What are you willing to trade?" Buck answered for him, holding the packs toward me and winking suggestively. "What are these worth to you? Been a while since I had a good foot massage. How 'bout you, George?"

I glared at him. There was no way I was going to deal with a smokeless Joe Toye, bet or no bet. He would be intolerable. More intolerable than Buck was being right now. I spoke before I had a chance to think it through.

"How about double or nothing?"

"What?" Joe and George asked in unison.

I raced on now, unable to retract my thought.

"Double or nothing. One dart. One bullseye. If I win, they get their smokes back. If not, you get two more packs a piece when rations come in."

Buck stepped close to me, nearly touching, and looked down into my eyes. I tried not to react, but swallowed hard as I willed myself to hold his gaze. He caught the slip in my composure and smiled, not taking his eyes from mine as he took my hand and placed a dart in it. Beside me, I could hear Joe protesting the wager and questioning my skills as I turned away from Buck and took aim at the board.

"Shut up, Joe."

Behind me, Buck leaned close again.

"Don't miss, Roxie," he purred against the shell of my ear, and the sound travelled all the way down my spine in an involuntary shiver.

For a moment, the dart board grew fuzzy in front of me as that familiar heat pooled in my stomach. It was his knowing chuckle that brought me back to myself, even as his hand slipped discreetly to my hip as he stood behind me in the crowded room. I squared my shoulders and took aim, punctuating my irritation at him with a dart in the center of the bullseye.

"That a girl, Roxie!" Joe cheered, holding out a hand toward Luz. "Now, gimme back my smokes."

I turned to look up at Buck again, and the hand that had been resting on my hip now slipped seamlessly and shamelessly to my rear, pulling me almost imperceptibly toward him. He was biting back a small smile, and his eyes held something that I couldn't quite read… something between admiration and desire.

"God, you're still beautiful."

I didn't get a chance to respond before George, begrudgingly handing over his cigarettes, muttered, "I shoulda known that you learned from him. Damn, Buck, I could've used those extra smokes too. Why'd you agree if you knew that she could shoot like that?"

Buck didn't take his eyes from mine, instead winking and answering only, "Sorry, George. You can't win 'em all."


BUCK POV

I wish I could have paused that moment. Held onto the look in her eyes. The way she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, trying not to laugh at my retort to George's complaining. Instead, within seconds we were thrust back into the war, informed by Lipton that we were jumping again. Apparently, the Brits had formulated a plan that had us landing in Holland, pushing over the Rhine, and taking Berlin by Christmas. It sounded like a dream come true. Of course, it also sounded shockingly optimistic, but we were being reassured that the Krauts in Holland were mostly old men and kids. In theory, it was going to be a breeze. In reality, our easy daytime jump and "liberation" of Eindhoven had quickly devolved into an all-out battle after we were ambushed outside of Nuenen.

The battle raged and we scrambled to find cover behind the crumbling walls and buildings. I knew that we'd lost at least one lieutenant after Brewer had been shot through the neck, and watched in horror as a British tank rolled forward despite our warnings, directly into the sights of a German Tiger that had been camouflaged behind a building. The explosion seemed to happen in slow motion, and then we were running again. The order to fall back came quickly, and we ducked low in the roadside ditch as we sprinted back toward the trucks.

I don't remember which I noticed first- the thump of the bullet piercing my skin, or the searing pain as the hot metal cut its way through me. Either way, I was suddenly and sharply thrown to the ground, and acutely aware of the warmth of my own blood spreading across my pants leg. Don Malarkey knelt beside me and screamed for a medic. Roe was beside us in an instant, examining what turned out to be a wound that had entered the left side of my ass and exited the right. One bullet. Four holes. We were starting an Easy Company tradition, apparently, although I didn't find it all that funny until much later.

"Buck!"

Her voice beside me shook me out of the daze I'd fallen into when I saw my own blood on my hands. The world was still exploding around us, and these people were all huddled over me. Roxie was beside me instead of safely hidden away in a truck. I wasn't okay with that.

"Just go! Leave me here for the Germans!"

"What?" Don demanded, followed by Roe saying that they could carry me.

"I weigh more than both of you put together. Just leave me…"

"Buck, shut up! We aren't leaving you here! Don, grab some guys and find something we can put him on."

Don ran to follow her instruction, and Doc went to help anyone else that he could. I looked back up at her and told her again that she needed to go.

"Look, Don will come back for me. Just go. Go and get somewhere safe." She shook her head stubbornly, prompting me to add, "Don't make me order you, Rox."

"Forget it. I'm not leaving without you."

"Stubborn ass."

"Well, I learned from the best. Look. Don found something. Now, hold on to this and we will drag you back. Do not let go. Do you hear me, Buck Compton?"

Her eyes burned into mine, daring me to protest that we didn't need to be risking four people just to haul me out of harm's way. She had said that she wasn't leaving without me, and she was clearly prepared to carry out that promise. She was silently telling me that if I willingly gave up and doomed myself, that I'd be dooming her too. I gripped the edge of the barn door sled, allowing myself to be towed to the relative safety of a truck, and reminding myself with every painful inch that I was coaxing her away from danger as well.

The trucks rumbled to life with me lying in the back of one of them, propped awkwardly between my side and stomach as Dick Winters stopped briefly to check on me. As they finally began to roll, pulling us back from the fierce firefight, I reached down again to the aching wound. My fingers were slick with blood when I raised them to eye level, the shock of being shot beginning to seep in again as I felt a chill go through me. Then, suddenly, there was the warmth of someone next to me, and Roxie's hand was around my wrist, pulling my arm away so that I could no longer see the blood.

"Stop looking at that," she ordered quietly, stretching out across the floor of the truck next to me.

"I got shot," I told her, disbelief evident in my voice.

She nodded, running her fingers affectionately through my hair to soothe my rattled nerves.

"I know, sweetheart. But you're going to be fine. Don't pay attention to that down there. Doc will take care of that. You just focus on me."

I wanted to focus on her. I wanted to tell her how much it meant to me that she was so insistent about not leaving without me. I wanted to tell her that I loved her. But somewhere between her soft, calming touch and the morphine that Doc had given me, I managed only to mumble something unintelligible before drifting to sleep. I was vaguely aware of being pulled from the truck, and then of her kiss against my cheek. It was that kiss and her stubborn will to keep me alive that gave me solace in the hellish hospital ward. I tried not to think about the battles that continued to rage throughout Holland, or to pay attention to the reports of casualties. Instead, I replayed her words over and over in my mind.

"Don't pay attention to that… You just focus on me."