Flawless Abandon, Irrevocable Surrender"
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Band of Brothers' – mini-series OR the book nor do I intend ANY disrespect to the real men of Easy Co. All that is mine is Grace Grant and a deep, profound respect for the real heroes.
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Aldbourne, England January 1943
The 506th had been in England since September of '42. For most of the men, it had been their first time out of the United States, their first time this far away from home; they were energized with foreign surroundings, exploring the green and gray landscape, immersing themselves in the old-world speech of the inhabitants around them. They felt contented with this pseudo vacation, apart from the daily drills and exercises, war could easily be put out of their minds for a spell – especially with a visit to the local pub and a smiling face of an English rose. Surprisingly, for Grace, around every corner of the quaint village was a memory; every lilt of the locals' accent provided a loaded remembrance of her time and service in this country. Her reminiscences of England, which began with wide-eyed exploration and naïve enthusiasm, tarnished quickly with the reality of the war. Seeing England again to Grace was likened to encountering an old, awkward, sad acquaintance; you cannot spend so much time in one place and not carry a bit of it always inside of you. This realization was a revelation to her. After being with Easy for so long, the echoes of what she experienced had diminished to a low hum. Stepping back into the arena she'd left so hastily years ago had them coming back with a vengeance.
The perpetual damp weather and fog that set in during the New Year had seeped its way into Grace's head, weighing it down. A melancholy that took its hold of her following her admission about her strange feelings towards Speirs had not lifted, and she wondered absently if the very uttering of those words somehow broke the spell. She had not interacted with the handsome Lieutenant since they departed the USS Samaria. She still caught his eyes on her when all the companies were together; and he'd caught her several times as well. Sometimes in his presence, she felt the deepest connection, yet other times she felt completely alone – as though any bond to him was her own bitter imagining.
The fresh excitement of being in a new country was not tangible among the Officers, war was too close now; weekly briefings of their impending action made sure they didn't forget why they were there to begin with. A cold reminding assaulted Grace of why she should not get involved with Ron. Logic scolded her of her feelings for him, yet her heart tugged dramatically when her eyes met his across the room at these stale briefings. The unsteady need to acknowledge her heart nearly compelled her to touch him; they never touched intimately before in the States. With the war they were about to enter looming over them, she felt ticking in the depths of her soul, urging her on to throw caution to the wind before either of them would be taken by the carnage of battle that she knew too well.
It was no secret that weekend passes for Grace while Stateside were rare, but while in Aldbourne everyone was able to enjoy them – Grace included. She had not taken advantage of it, however, because somehow on the trip to England, or so was reported to her, her dress greens had been lost. Every soldier was required to wear standard issue dress greens while out and without them, Grace had nothing to wear – and Sobel wouldn't let her wear men's trousers. What was curious, was that Sobel had managed to recover her medals and Lieutenant bars from her dress jacket which told her they were not lost completely, just being withheld from her. Another tip that Sobel and his cronies and once again tampered with her things was that in lieu of dress greens, she was given a few civilian dresses to put on, should she wish to use her weekend passes. Grace chose stubbornly to hold out; she caught onto Sobel's plan when she first saw the flashy dresses offered to her. Captain Sobel was attempting to dilute her obvious popularity with Easy by stripping her of the bells and whistles on her uniform and forcing her into just the role of her sex.
Having discovered the real reason from Grace as to why she wasn't joining them at the local pub for beer and darts, Tab and George had convinced her to throw on a dress, and have a good time with the men, Sobel be damned.
"We know you're done in there, Gracie, come out", Tab rapped on the door impatiently.
George turned to Tab and shook his head, "is it so bad to look like a girl for one night?"
"You're tellin' me, I wish Sobel lost my dress greens", Tab sniggered back.
Grace's voice came from the other side of the door, "it's unfortunate the couple I'm billeted with are not here, otherwise you would have to wait outside and I could contemplate how ridiculous I look without commentary".
"I seriously doubt you look ridiculous", Tab said trying the handle – locked. "You're the one who's acting ridiculous".
"I look like Rita Hayworth, this is stupid", she muttered.
George laughed, "that is not stupid, come on – all the beer is gonna be gone!"
They heard her walk to the door and pause, "don't you dare laugh".
The door squeaked open, revealing Grace in an emerald green silk dress that stopped at her knees, hugged every curve, short sleeves, and expertly tailored with a cinch at the waist and a deep V as the neckline. Grace was billeted with an older couple and the older woman lent her makeup and hair supplies. Grace had to practically relearn how to make herself up to be on par with the dress she was made to wear. Her deep auburn hair hung in glossy waves around her shoulders and she marveled at the feeling of makeup on her face. Shifting in her black heels under the silent stares of Tab and George, Grace felt a giant wave of embarrassment tackle her.
"Your faces say it all – I can't do this", Grace shook her head, balling her fists.
"No, no, Jesus. You look…." Tab started.
"Speirs is gonna flip his lid", George quipped, grinning at her.
Grace fixed George with an exasperated roll of her eyes, "it's been a while since I've gone out like this".
"Well enjoy it – we sure as hell are", Tab chuckled.
Grace nervously laughed, "all I need is a whiskey and then I'll stop thinking, shall we?"
Tab offered his arm, as did George; Grace smirked and took them both. They got down stairs and outside when George turned to her.
"You got a jacket?"
Grace groaned, "oh, screw it. I'm not going all the way back in these heels".
Tab laughed and they maneuvered their way through the ancient streets to the pub. In the waning light of dusk, Grace could make out throngs of soldiers, both British and American inside the pub through the windows, talking and smoking; music made its way to her ears. The veil of indifference Grace put on when she walked out with George and Tab evaporated and she suddenly, desperately wished to be back in her dress greens so she'd fit in. Women were obviously and dangerously outnumbered, so attention was inevitable. Butterflies erupted in her stomach and her sure footing faltered.
"No one is going to think any less of you, Lieutenant." George said lightly.
"Yeah – unless you dance with some Limey bloke", Tab joked.
"Alright, let's do this", Grace said, taking a deep breath.
Tab leading the way, headed into the pub and went straight in towards the back. Grace's eyes immediately located the familiar faces of Easy men spread out among three tables in the back corner and she felt herself smiling. George squeezed her arm and let go, bounding to Malarkey, Bill, Joe, Frank, Bull, Martin, and their newest addition, Lieutenant Buck Compton.
"Suck in the guts boys, we got ourselves a lady in our company", George announced. Grace inwardly rolled her eyes. There went her plan of sitting down discreetly and draining a bottle of Jameson by herself.
Tearing her eyes away from George's amused grin, she looked to her men – all staring at her. Suddenly, under the beautiful yards of emerald silk, Grace felt absolutely naked.
"Take a picture, fellas, it'll last longer", she drew heavily on her courage, trying not to bite her lip. Funny, she thought, she could face enemy fire but scrutinizing gazes of men made her want to run and dive under her bed linens. Funny even more that they know she's a woman, but she was able to conceal herself under filthy OD's and behind a gun. Here, before them simply in silk, her gender was screaming.
George laughed aloud, throwing a wink at Grace and lighting a cigarette.
"Dibs on a dance, Gracie", Malarkey said, grinning at her. Grace smiled and nodded, making her way towards their table.
"Lieutenant Grant….." Buck spoke to her, smiling his hundred-watt smile. "You look like a million bucks".
"Why thank you Lieutenant Compton", she smiled up at him, playing along with his formality.
"You tryin' to make everybody jealous?" Bill came over and stood close to Grace. At her quizzical brow, he elaborated, "you're the best lookin' girl in the pub and none of the Easy guys are gonna let you talk to anybody else in that dress".
Grace smirked at Bill, "can't help it if they're jealous, Bill." She leaned into him, like she was sharing a secret with him, "between you and me, I only like Easy men anyways".
Bill laughed and looked towards the other back corner of the pub, "you sure about that?" Grace followed his eye line and saw the table opposite theirs. Ron was sitting at a table talking with Harry Welsh, Dick Winters and Lewis sat with them, laughing.
"Very funny", Grace said dryly.
"I knew you'd get a kick outta that, kid", he smirked.
Joe walked by, empty glass in hand and called out to Grace, "I call a dance with you, Gracie" Grace smiled and nodded at him.
"You are going to distract all the guys playing darts", Muck appeared beside her, handing a beer to Bill.
"Is that your way of admitting I'll whip you at darts or that I look nice, Skip?" Grace asked.
He grinned, "Both".
It had been over an hour since she walked in. Ron was counting the minutes. He had been quick to make sure she didn't catch him staring as she usually did. He was aware of his jaw clenching slightly, every time a new pair of arms encircled her waist to accompany a new song. Ron shook his head slightly at the position he'd put himself in: an impending war and his peculiar feelings for this woman. He couldn't shake her from his thoughts, even though they'd seen one another so rarely since their arrival in England.
He felt a shift in the mood when she walked in, on the arms of Luz and Talbert. Ron had felt his jaw slacken slightly at her astonishing appearance. Her cheeks pink from the attention, her skin gleamed in contrast to the deep green of the silk that hugged to her curves, auburn waves sweeping her back as she laughed with the men. She was glowing. Beside him, Nixon cursed under his breath when he saw her.
Lewis Nixon was having a hard time keeping his composure. Being an educated man, and an intelligence officer, he was good at filling in the blanks; a near expert at insinuation and subtext. He wasn't blind to the fact that his honorary sister acted differently when in the presence of one man. He had watched her hazel eyes eagerly seek this man out on more than one occasion: in the mess hall in Toccoa, running Currahee, while she gave her lectures, in England while at briefings. Lewis took note that she was practiced at keeping her cool while doing so, but the action was there nonetheless. When Grace entered the pub this evening, looking every bit angelic as her nickname, Lewis finally fully appreciated this man's reaction to her presence. The ever-feared and dominating Ronald Speirs couldn't take his steely, slightly jealous, yet admiring eyes off of Grace; and Lewis, begrudgingly noted he couldn't either.
Glenn Miller's 'Moonlight Serenade' filled the pub to appreciative murmurs from the crowd. Next to him, Lewis heard a pub stool scrape the ground suddenly and he watched as Ron stalked deliberately towards Buck Compton and Grace, dancing together once again.
Although her feet would hate her tomorrow morning, Grace could not dispel the inexplicable energy in the air. Dancing with her men, one after the other, lifted her spirits a bit if even for a little while. With the invasion coming soon, she could draw upon these moments when sitting at the bottom of a mud-filled foxhole.
Buck was a very good dance partner, Grace thought. She must have been one too, as this was the third time they were taking their turn on the dance floor.
Abruptly, Buck pulled her closer. A grin on his face, he whispered to her, "Someone's coming for you, Angel".
"Lieutenant Compton", Grace's heart sputtered at his voice coming from behind her.
"Lieutenant Speirs", Buck stated conversationally, still holding onto Grace, not letting her turn around. Buck wasn't about to play the assumption-game. Based on what the boys were telling him, Lieutenant Speirs was holding out something on Grace, and Buck was going to make Speirs work for her, he was going to make him say what Buck already knew he wanted at that moment.
Speirs acquiesced, "May I cut in?"
Buck grinned, "That's up to Angel, here". Buck turned Grace so she could look at Speirs.
Ron looked at her absorbedly, "Lieutenant Grant".
Finding her voice, Grace answered, "Yes, Lieutenant Speirs, you may".
Buck squeezed her hand, threw her a wink, and gave her hand to Speirs.
A beat passed with no movement from either of them, just her hand in his. Feeling her heart pound in her chest, Speirs pulled her in close, in time with the heady music.
Talking with Speirs was an experience in itself; having him merely look at her was intoxicating. When his arm wound its way tightly around her waist, his warm hand holding hers, Grace had to fight to keep herself upright by steadying herself on his gaze.
Ron breathed evenly, allowing himself the pleasure of dancing with her, trying to imagine how things would be if their positions were different in the world. He made the remark in his head that bad circumstances certainly have a way of ruining things that would otherwise be pleasant.
Although they could not be together, he couldn't deny she looked breath-taking. Seeing her femininity displayed this openly somehow made him more protective of her. The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them, "Grace, you look stunning tonight".
Taken by the sound of her name slipping from his perfect lips and husky whisper, Grace took a minute to respond. "Thank you Ron", she whispered, his arm around her waist tightening its hold on her. "Thank you for asking me to dance".
His eyes on her, so close; feeling his breath on her lips, she broke their eye contact before she could give anything away and swept her eyes over to her table of friends. They were all openly staring. Buck caught Grace's eye and nudged Harry who had joined them. George and Joe smiled conspiratorially at her. Grace pursed her lips and shifted her eyes to her and Ron's entwined hands. His fingers gripped hers sensuously, he was so warm, and Grace admired the whiteness of her hands compared to the tanned skin of his.
Feeling the heat of her skin so close to his fingers, Ron reveled dancing with her. Looking over quickly to his table he left, he saw Dick talking with a couple British officers nearby, and Lewis Nixon openly glaring in their direction. Without thinking, Ron stealthily pulled Grace tighter against him, making the surrounding air crackle with thick tension.
The trilling, rich melody of the song slowly ended, Grace felt Ron's arms hesitate around her, to her pleasure.
"Grace", he said lowly, in a parting tone.
"Ron", she replied softly, daringly holding his heated gaze. If she is imagining any of this at all, she would reap all she could; she no longer cared if it hurt later.
Grace turned finally as another song began and started to make her way back to her table; biting the inside of her cheek as she felt Ron's warm hand possessively on the small of her back. His hand dropped as soon as she got close to her table. The boys were staring at her, incredulous. Ignoring them, she happily took a seat next to Tab, who silently slid her whiskey to her. Smiling and ignoring their stares still, she looked across the room to find Lew staring at her as well. She lifted her glass to him, nodded her head and elegantly downed the contents in one go.
After a couple rounds of darts, Grace couldn't help but feel a little guilty at all the packs of Lucky's that she, Tab, and George were winning off of Buck, Skip, and Johnny.
"Care for a round, boys?" She asked them. Nodding in approval, they made their way to the bar top. Spotting Lew there and knowing he had avoided her so far tonight, Grace stopped right behind him. "Lieutenant Nixon", she said cordially, "I believe you are ignoring me."
"Lieutenant Grant", he said coolly, not commenting on her remark.
"Grant?" the man next to Lewis in a British army uniform, spat out. Grace's blood instantly ran faster and heated; she knew that pinched voice anywhere, "are you fucking with me?" The man turned around and fixed her with a drunken stare, leering at her up and down.
Going from relaxed to enraged with head-spinning speed, Grace addressed him with venom laced in her voice, "Private Edgars".
"Grace?" Lewis addressed her, seeing her change. Grace ignored him, keeping her eyes keenly trained on the Private who owed his life to her.
Squinting his eyes, Edgars spoke again, "I see you've managed to weasel your way into the Yanky army. You just don't know when to quit, do you?"
Not noticing Ron stepping behind Buck to her right, she answered, "no weaseling needed, Private. You and Lieutenant Cahill are proof of that".
"You Yanks are fucked", he looked around her to the men with her. He turned his eyes back on her, "it's only a matter of time before you royally fuck up again".
Grace felt the men beside her bristle, "I got you and Cahill out of that situation – I do not consider that fucking up".
"You're mental if you think playing soldier will put you on a man's level", he slurred stupidly.
Nixon edged forward on his seat, near him Ron took a step forward with Buck.
Keeping her eyes on Edgars, Grace took Lew's glass of Vat and shot the rest of it. "Why on Earth would I wish to compete with a boy like you? Your level?" She smiled darkly, "It's beneath me".
Edgars stood up abruptly, "you fucking slag!"
He quickly threw a punch at Grace, who immediately anticipated it and stepped out of the way, swiftly slugging him in the nose.
Leaning over his slumping form, she said darkly, "You're welcome for saving your life".
All hell instantly broke loose. All the men were yelling at Edgars, some yelling out the doors for the Military Police. Seeing a path, Grace ducked outside – she wasn't about to get taken in by the MP's for fighting a piece of shit like Edgars. Not wanting to answer to Lew or anyone else, she managed to get out the door into the cool night.
Walking and massaging her throbbing knuckles from punching Edgars, she breathed hard. Why, of all nights, of all people, did he have to be there?
"Grace", Lew's voice caught her. Stopping her walk, and turning around to Lew, she figured she may as well come out with it and be damned with their reactions.
This was not the way she wanted the truth of her discharge to come about. What choice did she have now?
Suppressing a groan at the sight of all her close friends standing with Lew, she could see Ron at the pub handing Edgars over to the MP's. Her eyes landed on Lew again, staring at her hard.
"Angel, what the hell was that about?" Bill asked.
"He was in my platoon in North Africa", she answered curtly.
"So he takes a swing at you?" Tab said.
"None of that made any sense, Gracie", Joe said pointing to the pub down the road.
"What was he talking about in there?" Lew demanded.
"Nothing – Jesus", she said weakly.
"That's bullshit, Angel", Buck said giving her a steady gaze.
"You can tell us", Lip gave her.
"If he tried anything", George started.
She stopped him, "That's not it at all".
"I thought you were honorably discharged", Lew asked.
"I was Lew", she said.
"Grace", Ron said simply, walking up. Holding her gaze, he nodded. From their talks in Toccoa, he knew something had gone wrong at the end of her time with the British. She needed to get it off her shoulders.
Lew looked between them, frustrated.
Grace took a breath, "I was on a night patrol with our Lieutenant; Lieutenant Cahill, Sergeant Aaron, and Private Edgars". She had tried keeping this away from the men, she was ashamed she had been discharged by simply doing her job – the British men didn't want her there and they had found a way to be rid of her. She had convinced herself that if these men found out, they'd find the same loophole. "We were trying to fortify our line; see how thin we were. We made contact with their line and got heavy fire. Sergeant Aaron was hit hard and went down immediately. I was on Aaron right away, retrieving his tags when Lieutenant Cahill was hit in the neck." Looking up at them, seeing their intense faces, she continued, "Private Edgars froze. As soon as that first bullet flew by, he did nothing. I was stabilizing Cahill, screaming at Edgars to cover fire – he would not budge. After stabilizing Cahill, I yelled at him to grab the Lieutenant and help me – or we'd all be dead. He managed to hear that. We started moving Cahill out by his backpack when the Germans began advancing on us, believing there were more than just the three of us. Again, Edgars froze. I ripped off my medic badge, grabbed Edgars' gun and hosed the Germans down myself, buying us time and stopping their advance. I turned to grab Cahill again when a bullet tore through my shoulder. We got back, Edgars went straight to our XO – who found a loophole to kick me out". Seeing their incredulous looks, Grace looked over at Ron, his eyes keeping her anchored. She felt defeated, she wanted nothing more than to help these men, not play soldier, not be trigger-happy. Her infantile worries of their judgment were ridiculous, yes, but that's how her XO in the British Army felt; who's to say he was alone in those judgments? Feeling deflated and dropping her eyes to the cobblestones of the street, she finished in a soft voice, "I was told Lieutenant Cahill made a full recovery".
The silence that greeted her made her feel the night's cool air with a harsh sting.
"You saved that prick's life, what the hell was his problem?" Nixon asked her softly.
Grace turned her eyes to him, "he didn't want a woman doing his dirty work for him – he wouldn't admit that without my actions, we would've all been dead".
"Are you shitting me, Gracie?" Tab breathed.
A lump in her throat, Grace shook her head, "nope, they wanted me out – and fast".
"But you're here now", Ron said with conviction.
She met his stare, "I am. And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else".
"We are not letting you go anywhere, Angel", Buck said assuredly. The tight-knit group of men around them nodded and murmured their agreement. "Isn't that right Lieutenant Winters?"
Dick stepped into their circle, unnoticed by Grace until then, "The British Army were fools to have let you go, Grace. Sink and the brass want you here – and so do I".
Grace let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, "Thank you, sir".
"No thanks needed, Lieutenant – it's the truth".
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