Wow! So many things to apologize for! First of all, I'm sorry that it's been so long since my last update - my laptop crashed and with it went all of my episodes of BoB, which I needed for reference. I have them back now, finally! So here's a little something (Speirs interactions included) since you've all been so great and patient. It's not much, but I'm happy to be moving forward again with the story. As always, reviews are so appreciated! I hope you enjoy!


The English tavern Eleanor found herself in was so crowded it was difficult to move around without getting in someone's way. In the time since she and her comrades had returned to England, she had been doing her best to get rest. She, of course, spent quite a bit of time doing mess hall duty, as this had been her punishment for manning the bazooka in Carentan. It wasn't so bad - she'd been able to spend some time with men she hadn't really gotten a chance to catch up with since D-Day, as the men were on a rotating schedule to help out with mess duties. Between doing her mess duties and the lingering exhaustion from being out on the front, she'd found herself sleeping whenever she got the chance, trying to regain her strength for whatever was ahead. Surely they wouldn't be in England long.

Considering that, she'd agreed to go out to the tavern and socialize on this one night to make up for her reclusiveness and maybe make a few good memories before they shipped out again. The men were all in uniform; once again, Eleanor had decided to give her uniform a break and wear civilian clothes, but she didn't go all out like she had the last time she'd gone out: she'd put on a simple cotton navy blue dress she'd found in the house of the couple she was quartered with. She had patted on just the tiniest bit of makeup before heading out the door and left her hair down in its natural loose curls instead of attempting to re-curl and coif it just right.

She was enjoying herself immensely, leaning against a pillar near the center of the small room, watching Buck and Luz hustle some of the others at darts. She attempted to repress a smile as she took a sip from the mug in her hands. The tavern was packed because the first set of replacements had arrived. From what she'd seen, they all seemed like nice boys - still, it was difficult to feel welcoming to people whose presence reminded her of old friends lost. Many of the men messed with the new additions to some extent, but for the most part, they were understanding.

"Enjoying yourself?" Lipton asked as he appeared next to her. Eleanor smiled brightly.

"I am." She replied. "Luz is excited to have some fresh meat for his schemes."

Lipton chuckled, clearly wanting to say more as he glanced at her sidelong. She took another sip of her drink.

"How's mess duty been?" He asked finally.

"Tolerable." She replied, shrugging a shoulder. "What about you? Enjoying your time away from the front?"

"Yeah, it's nice to be back to warm food and showers," He told her with a nod. "Have you...talked to anybody yet? You know, about D-day?" He then asked hesitantly. Eleanor's smile grew tight-lipped at the topic change, but she couldn't be angry with Lipton, who only ever cared about the men's, and her own, well-being.

"Winters." She said, nodding toward the redhead who was sitting, as always, with Nixon.

He'd likely been dragged to the bar by his friend. "He had to write a report. To account for Meehan and...the rest of the soldiers on the plane." She explained quietly, gazing down into the drink in her hands. It had been a difficult conversation, but not as difficult as it could have been, considering Dick Winters' compassion and the quiet strength he exuded that made others trust him. Lipton was eyeing her with concern and understanding; she could tell that he wanted to know more but was restraining himself.

"Good." He replied. "As long as you talked to someone. Can't keep that stuff bottled up, you know? Anyway, I'm here if you ever need me."

Eleanor smiled and sweetly and placed a hand on his upper arm in a friendly gesture. "I know, Lip. Thank you."

He patted her elbow and gave her another reassuring smile before turning to one of the men who had been trying to get his attention. Eleanor's eyes fixed on a spot on the far wall as she continued to take swigs of her drink. They glazed over a bit as her mind went to a different place, seeing the look on Meehan's face as he shoved her out of the plane.

She wondered for the hundredth time since coming back to England if she should write his family. It seemed only right to let them know of the heroic circumstances of his death, but she didn't know how her being a woman played into all of that. Would his wife get the wrong idea if she wrote to her? Was is appropriate, regardless of circumstances, to write a woman about her husband? She made a mental note to ask Winters for his take on it and looked down at her now empty mug with a sigh. She would need more to drink.

"Who wants to buy me another drink?" She called out to no one in particular.

"I've got you, Nora." Liebgott insisted over the offers of a few others. He took the mug from her.

"Another one of these?" He asked.

"Something stronger." She replied. Something about the determination in her tone made Liebgott hesitate, but he finally nodded.

"Sure thing, Bird."


Liebgott had come back with some kind of rum, which was clearly the middle ground he took in bringing her 'something stronger', but Eleanor accepted it gratefully and without complaint. By the time she made another trip around the room and came around to Nixon and Winters' table, she'd finished that drink and began sipping at a glass of whiskey that Cobb had offered her. She was definitely feeling it at this point, and she knew because she was enjoying herself again, the thought of what she'd experienced on D-Day miles from her recollection.

"Hello gentleman." She greeted, beaming as she plopped down into a chair at their table. Winters gave a polite nod and a smirk grew on Nixon's face.

"Good evening, Nora." He replied. "Good to see you out. Having fun?"

"Yes, I'm having a blast." She replied, her voice a few decibels louder than it needed to be. Nixon tried not to laugh.

"And how many drinks have you had?" He asked with a knowing look.

"Just a few." She replied, snickering for no real reason. Winters and Nixon exchanged a look. They'd been observing her earlier, making note of the fact that she'd been coaxing single drinks out of each of the men separately, moving about the room so that nobody was monitoring her intake. People were only now starting to notice that she had been overserved.

"Why don't you sit here and talk to us for a while?" Winters suggested. Someone needed to be accountable for her and he was as a good a person as any for the job. Eleanor's face lit up at the suggestion and she placed her whiskey down on the table in front of her, sitting up straighter.

"Of course!" She exclaimed. "What are we talking about?" Her voice was still a little bit louder than necessary and even Dick found it hard to keep himself from laughing at the girl.

"Well, we were talking about plans for moving out again. But that's above your clearance level." Nixon admitted.

"Good." She replied. "I don't want to know anyway."

"Let's talk about home instead." Nixon suggested, a mischievous look in his eye.

"And that's better?" Winters asked, raising an eyebrow. Satisfied to just be sitting among friends with the quickly dwindling drink in her hand, Eleanor nodded eagerly.

"Now, I know you insist that you don't have a beau back home," Nixon began, "But surely there's some man waiting around for you somewhere."

Eleanor let out a laugh so abrupt that she had to throw her head back to accommodate it.

"Yes, because sitting around waiting for his sweetheart to come back from war is every man's dream." She joked back.

"Well, I imagined he'd be fighting, too." Nixon added. Eleanor shook her head, still smiling, though there was a playfully chastising look in her eye.

"No, there's no one." She told him firmly. "How is your sweetheart doing?" She then changed the subject.

"If I told you about that, I'd only depress you." He replied with a sigh. He then turned to Winters with a cheeky look.

"And what about you, Dick?" He asked. Winters raised his eyebrows as if he'd forgotten the original question. "Got any ladies waiting back home?"

"You know I don't." He said simply, giving Nixon an unimpressed look. Before Nixon could speak up in defense of himself, Eleanor cut in.

"Really?" She asked, her eyebrows sky high. "I find that hard to believe."

Winters chose not to reply, scratching the back of his neck as he avoided eye contact and Nixon chuckled gleefully at his discomfort. The smile on his face faded as his eyes flitted to someone standing behind Eleanor. She was taking the last swig of her whiskey as the person stepped around her and settled into the chair next to her. Without even glancing at the man, she slid her empty glass over to him.

"Be a doll and fill me up again?" She asked with a laugh. When she sensed the air around the table changing, she glanced over to see that the person she'd demanded a refill from was none other than Ronald Speirs.

"It sounds like you've had enough." He said simply. Something inside Eleanor immediately bristled at that, not liking the idea of him telling her what to do. "Winters. Nixon." He greeted, earning nods from the other men. "What time are we being briefed in the morning?"

The Lieutenants would be briefed about their next mission ahead of time so that they could pass on instructions to the rest of the soldiers. This meant that they really were moving out soon.

"0600." Winters replied. Speirs nodded, contemplating the information. Eleanor's happy drunk mood was quickly souring into an angry drunk mood. They'd been having such a good time before he interfered and sucked all of the enjoyment out of the air with his serious demeanor.

"I'm going to get another drink," she announced as a way of excusing herself from the table. She reached for the glass she'd placed in front of Speirs but he slid it out of her reach at the last moment. She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him. He didn't seemed fazed. Eleanor was frustrated - they wouldn't act this way if she were a male lieutenant. Deciding that she didn't need the glass anyway, she stood and walked off from the table without so much as a goodbye to any of them.

When she reached the bar, she ordered a shot, not wanting to ingest much more liquid - she was already feeling pretty bloated from the amount she'd had.

"How's it going?" She heard Donald Malarkey ask over her shoulder. She turned to glare at him.

"If you're going to tell me that I've had enough, you can just turn around and go back the way you came." She insisted brusquely. Malarkey's eyebrows shot up and he suppressed a smile.

"I'm not." He insisted, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm just checking in."

"Oh." Eleanor replied, relaxing a bit. "Sorry, I'm a bit…" She began, shaking her head and then leaning back against the bar for stability.

"I know." Malarkey said simply with a little smirk. "Mickey, she's done for tonight." He called over her shoulder to the bartender, placing a supportive arm around her shoulders.

"Hey," She protested, although there wasn't much fight to it. She didn't care so much that Malarkey was cutting her off now; she hadn't really wanted to drink more, it had just become a matter of pride when Speirs had tried to prevent her from it. She allowed Malarkey to lead her over to the center of the room where everyone was gathering to listen to Lipton's announcement.

"Well...I hate to break the news here, boys, but we're moving out again." He said solemnly, causing the entire room to go silent. The men all exchanged looks and Eleanor looked to Malarkey, whose hand squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, and to Skip, who raised his mug and took a sip from it. Now she was sure she didn't want anything to drink. She'd have to be up tomorrow morning learning battle plans and memorizing land layouts and she was likely already going to have a pretty bad hangover.

"Why don't we walk you back? We can go once Skip finishes his drink." Malarkey offered gently. She had just watched Nixon and Winters disappear out the door, though, so she shook her head.

"No, I'll just go with Nixon and Winters." She insisted. "Thanks though. I'll see you guys tomorrow!"

The two of them looked unsure, but had seen the Lieutenants exit, too, so they let her go, watching her stumble slightly as she rushed out the door.

When Eleanor stepped out, she saw the two lieutenants walking up ahead with a few other soldiers scattered around outside the bar. Lipton's announcement had successfully ended everyone's night, it seemed. She picked up the pace to catch up with them, but it was difficult in her heels and with her currently limited coordination.

"You shouldn't be alone." She heard as someone approached her from behind and she rolled her eyes. It was the line he almost always greeted her with.

"I was going to catch up with them, Lieutenant." She replied, gesturing to the two men up ahead who were disappearing around a corner, the opposite way that she needed to go. Ron Speirs watched them disappear from sight and then turned to her.

"I'll walk you." He said. It wasn't quite an offer, more of a matter-of-fact statement. Not really caring one way or another at this point, she simply shrugged, before beginning to walk again with him by her side.

"There a reason you had so much to drink tonight?" Speirs asked, glancing at her sidelong as they walked down the cobblestone street toward the cottage Eleanor was lodged in.

"Does there need to be one?" she asked cheekily, nearly toppling over as her heel became wedged between two cobblestones. Speirs reacted quickly, grabbing her elbow with one hand and placing the other on the small of her back as she tried to steady herself.

"That was my-m-shoes." She said simply, trying to insist that it wasn't because she was drunk. She brushed Speirs' hands away and reached down to undo the straps of her shoes while he waited. After stepping out of one shoe, she began to lose her balance again, causing her to grab the side of his pant leg, steadying herself again. When she stepped out of the other one, she grabbed both shoes by the straps in one hand and stood back to her full height, already feeling more balanced. Her eyeline only met Speirs' shoulders now that she was standing barefoot.

"That's better." She announced. Speirs gestured forward and they continued to walk.

"Everyone's scared of you, you know." She told him after a moment, unsure if she was trying to make conversation or trying to get under his skin.

"Is that so?" He asked with a cocked eyebrow. He didn't seem too surprised or put-off by the announcement.

"Yes, it is so." She replied. "I'm not, though." She insisted. He seemed more at ease than usual, and it was helping her alcohol-induced mood to float back to a happier place. Speirs stopped walking briefly upon hearing her pronouncement, but continued when Eleanor didn't stop, off in her own tipsy world.

"And why's that?" He asked as he walked alongside her, hands clasped behind his back. The two were moving at a relaxed pace, as if they were a couple on a stroll in central park, not two comrades in a war-torn country.

"Because you're on my side." She replied insistently, as if the answer should have been obvious. He nodded, eying her in contemplation as she watched the cottages that lined the road, thinking about the separate lives of the people living inside. She continued her answer, more musingly now: "You are ruthless, that's for sure. And intimidating. But you're like...you're more like a protector. Like a firm...a secure, and firm...you're…" She trailed off, clearly losing her train of thought. Realizing that her drunken mouth was running away from her, she turned to see Speirs trying to suppress a grin, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. "You don't scare me." She finished her thought simply, sure that her face was flushing.

"I suppose I'll just have to try harder." He replied, earning a laugh from the young woman beside him.

"Was that a joke, Lt. Speirs?" She gasped in surprise. "That was funny!" Her bright red lipstick contrasted against her white teeth as she laughed, causing her smile, which showed just as readily in her eyes, to take on a dazzling quality that almost stopped him short. He looked away and cleared his throat.

"So...how much trouble is Dog Company in?" She asked abruptly after a few moments. She desperately wished she was just a smidge soberer. She was in control of her body and she imagined her decision-making skills were just fine, but she was in the threshold area - the area in which she was drunk enough to let things slip out of her mouth with no warning, but still sober enough to be embarrassed by them. Speirs seemed equally surprised by the question and unclasped his hands, placing a hand on her back to direct her to the left - she'd almost missed the last turn to her cottage.

"We're not in any trouble. Colonel Sink got everyone's stories and learned the truth - we had to retreat because Fox company ran off first. Word has it that Fox Company's CO was relieved of his command." He explained, as he continued to guide Eleanor, who was staring up at him as he spoke.

"Oh, good." She replied. "I mean...I just knew there had to be some misunderstanding when Colonel Sink said you'd broken command and retreated." She explained.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean it just...didn't seem like you. I'm sorry Fox Company left you vulnerable."

"You shouldn't be apologizing to anyone." He said adamantly. "I'm sorry you all were left to handle it. I didn't want to leave Easy Company to fend for itself." He told her; they'd stopped walking and he was making unwavering eye contact with her during that last statement, as if he was trying to communicate something further to her.

"Well, we managed." She said with a small smile and a shrug, wanting to lighten the mood, which had turned serious again too quickly.

"You managed." He corrected, one corner of his mouth tipping upwards as he gave her a tiny nod of acknowledgement. Eleanor, for reasons unknown to herself, felt her chest swell with pride at this admission and tried not to smile back too broadly.

"Well, it looks like this is my stop." She stated, clearing her throat, realizing that they had stopped right outside of the house where she was being quartered. It looked like a light had been left on in the foyer for her, but all of the bedroom lights were out.

"Goodnight then." He replied.

"Goodnight, Lieutenant. Thanks for walking me." She said. He nodded, opening up the waist-high gate for her and watching as she walked up the path to the front door. He stood there until she went inside and then, straightening his posture, he closed the gate and walked off into the night.