Disclaimers: all the usual apply

Chapter 20

Arlene POV

Leaning against the railing of the troop ship she closed her eyes, allowing the sea breeze to momentarily carry away the last month. She felt someone come to stand on her right, but she didn't open her eyes. She knew who it was. Her tongue flicked across her chapped lips and she tasted the sea salt that clung to her skin.

After nearly a month of fighting, Easy had finally been pulled off of the line. The men had a chance to shower, eat warm food, get clean uniforms and rest before shipping back to England. Their unit on the other hand had been ordered to stay in the field working reconnaissance until the last possible moment. They'd literally run onto the troop ship as it had prepared to set sail.

"The men are below deck grabbing something to eat," her best friend said.

She opened her eyes and turned her head so she could look at the blonde standing next to her. Jessica had her back to the ocean, leaning against the railing as her eyes casually observed the few soldiers standing on the upper deck. Just like her own hair, Jessica's was hidden underneath a cap. There was no point in creating more of a scene than necessary and their men had insisted on escorting them everywhere on the ship. As soon as they got some food of course.

"I'm not hungry," she answered the unasked question.

Jessica nodded and turned to face the sea. They stared out over the lapping water as the European mainland grew smaller and smaller.

"We'll have a 5-day pass when we get to Aldbourne. I swear I'm spending all of mine in bed," her friend said.

She arched one eyebrow and smiled mischievously.

Jessica playfully slapped her arm. "Alone. Geez."

"Hey, a girl has needs."

Her friend groaned. "That seems like a lot of effort right now."

She snorted and was about to agree when a flash back of her night spent with Joe stopped the words dead in their tracks.

Something must have given her away because Jessica asked, "New York?"

She wanted to deny it, but her brain was too tired to come up with a coherent one. "God, yes."

Jessica burst out laughing, bracing herself on the railing to stop herself from slipping onto the filthy floor.

"It's not that funny."

Through her fit of giggles Jessica stammered out, "Yes, yes it is. You sounded like a man lost in the desert finally finding water. You know, all you had to do was ask and I would have made some plans for you two in France."

"Really? In the middle of that muddy mess where you can't even go relieve your bowels in private, you would have made a plan? Really?"

Still breathing heavily after her giggling fit Jessica simply replied, "I would have tried! That way I can live vicariously through you."

"Oh, I see. I must have imagined the two handsome officers vying for your attention."

"Vying?"

"Yes, vying. That's my word choice and I'm sticking to it."

"Hell, you really are sleep deprived if you're the one being dramatic."

A desperate laugh clawed its way up the back of her throat. "So tired."

The two best friends descended into a fit of exhausted laughter. Their legs slowly gave way under them and they slid onto the deck, turning so their backs were resting against the metal hull.

As the fit started to subside she wiped the tears from her eyes. Drawing up her legs so she could rest her temple against her knee she studied her friend. Through all the filth that caked Jessica's skin she could tell the other woman had aged, and judging by how she felt this was a mirror image of herself.

"What do you want?" she asked.

Jessica's head softly fell back to rest against the hull. "World peace an option?"

"Probably not."

"I don't know. I've barely spoken to either Richard or Ron. Huh, both their names start with an R. Odd."

She waited for Jessica's exhausted brain to get back on track.

The blonde lifted her head and shook it as if to straighten her thoughts. "With Richard I feel like I can breathe and with Ron I'm always out of breath."

"That's a big difference."

"I know. It would be easier if I could spend some time alone with both of them away from the military and all its rules and decorum. Just get to really know them and give them a chance to know me. The me away from it all."

"We'll be in England for a while, you'll get that chance."

As Jessica reached inside her jacket for her cigarette's and lighter she said, "Maybe."

"Maybe?" she asked, accepting the cigarette Jessica had lit for her.

Blowing out a long stream of smoke the other woman replied, "They had months before we deployed. I don't see what's going to be any different now. Maybe I'm more of a fascination to them than someone they actually want to be with."

Flicking the ash that had gathered on the tip of her own cigarette to the ground she said, "Richard did ask you out, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. But that was months ago. A lot has happened since then."

"And your gifts?"

Jessica's hands unconsciously reached for her chest and ankle as a soft smile lightened her face.

"Not that much has changed. Now it's your turn for some advice. Give them a chance."

"Yes mom."

She rolled her eyes and added, "After you've showered and slept. Right now you look like death warmed up."

"Oh, thanks! Good to know how my look reflects how I feel."

They passed a few moments in companionable silence before Jessica asked, "And Joe? I know you two had that tense conversation after Carentan, but any new updates?"

She thought about the question for a moment. They hadn't been alone again long enough to really talk. All the time they'd spent together had been in a group or a fight. But Joe had always been close by and on more than one occasion he'd cracked a joke or offered her a cigarette when things had gone poorly.

"He's actually been rather great. Nothing dramatic or spectacular. He's just really been there and not once did he give me hell for doing something dangerous. Well, more dangerous than usual."

"Not even the bazooka incident? As it's now known."

She felt her face brighten as she recalled his reaction, the evident concern which had threatened to turn into anger so plainly obvious in the depths of his brown eyes. "Oh, he had something to say about it! I could see him trying really hard not to lose his cool as he casually sussed out if that was the norm. It was actually pretty adorable."

"Hm, I'm glad to hear he's behaving. I do think the two of you could be good together."

She narrowed her eyes at her friend and studied her for a few moments. "What did you say to him?"

Jessica held up her hands to feign innocence but there was an unmistakable twinkle to her eyes. "Nothing….much."

"Jessica!"

"Oh, calm down. I pretty much told him the same things I've told you. But you really need to talk."

She sighed, too tired to stay mad at her friend and secretly pleased Joe had taken to heart whatever advice Jessica had given him. Not that she'd admit it. Jessica didn't need any more encouragement. "I know. It just didn't go so well last time."

"Last time you were standing in the rain with Germans only a few yards away. Not ideal circumstances. Besides, at least now you know what has to be discussed so you can prepare."

She scrunched up her face at the thought of discussing the reason behind why she'd really left him that morning in New York.

"You jump out of planes, run into enemy fire, shoot bazookas at tanks. You can talk to one man."

"Somehow none of those things felt this scary."

"That's because you're in love with Joe."

Her head snapped up and she sputtered, "Hold your horses! No one said anything about love."

"Technically I just did, so…."

She replied with a flat stare that only earned her an overly innocent smile from her friend.

"Sometimes you're impossible."

Jessica shrugged. "I'll add that to my list of traits. Dangerous, foolish and sometimes impossible."

"You forgot stubborn."

"I prefer to think of it as single minded determination."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, but a smile pulled at her lips.

In love with Joe. Oh, God, is Jessica right? Damnit.

Jessica POV

Turning onto her stomach the white duvet tangled around her legs. She groaned into the soft pillow.

Why is it so damn bright? Someone turn of the goddamn light.

After staying in that position for a number of minutes she made peace with the fact that none of her imaginary friends were coming to turn of the blinding light. Painfully slowly she turned onto her back, kicking her legs free of their blanket prison as she went. Her eyes still closed she blindly fumbled for the watch that she'd left on her nightstand. When her fingers found the familiar shape they clumsily curled around it. She brought it close to her face, opening her eyes only a slither so she could read the hands.

Noon.

Her eyes found the small number indicating the date and she could feel her brain struggle with the simple math.

Shit, I've been asleep for almost a day.

She allowed the watch to slip from her feeble grasp as she allowed her eyes to fall close, seriously considering simply going back to sleep. She knew most of her men would be spending their 5-day pass and back pay in London. She and Alex would go up for one day to meet with Command to confirm the new leadership of their team now that Clark was officially missing in combat. Other than that though she had no intention of spending her precious free time in London. Actually, at that exact moment she was seriously considering sleeping for the full 5 days.

Just as she started to drift off a sharp knock on her bedroom door jerked her back towards wakefulness.

"Fuck," she swore under her breath, but managed to croak out a more coherent, "Yes?"

"It's Nixon. Can I come in?" her friend's muffled voice came from behind the closed door.

She groaned and shut her eyes tight. "Did someone die?"

There was a pause followed by an uncertain, "No."

"Busy dying?"

"No.

"Then go away."

When only silence followed she assumed Nixon had left. She had just turned onto her side when she heard the door handle turn and the hinges squeak, protesting on her behalf.

Without turning to look at the door, and the man she knew was standing in it, she mumbled, "Sure, come in."

Footsteps and a suppressed chuckle made a beeline for her bed. She felt the mattress shift as Nixon sat down next to her, her friend saying, "I was beginning to worry you'd run away or something."

She turned over so she was facing her friend, making peace with the interruption and giving in to the situation. As she'd guessed Nixon was sitting with his back against the headboard, one leg stretched out on her bed while the other dangled off of the side. He was wearing a uniform, which judging by the smell of him and it how look he'd slept in after spending most of the night at the closest pub.

"You need a shower," she mumbled, eyes narrowed into thin slits.

He sniffed and replied, "So do you. And a you need to brush your teeth."

"You can leave if it bothers you."

In response her leaned forward to start undoing his shoe laces.

"Or get more comfortable. Either way."

She waited until he'd gotten rid of his shoes and settled back onto the bed, both long legs now on her mattress, crossed at the ankles. "You shouldn't just barge in to my room. What if I was naked?"

His lips turned up into a lopsided smile and a warm flush spread up his cheeks. "It would have been a great start to a day."

"It's noon."

"We both just woke up. So, it's the start to our day."

"I'm pretty sure there's flawed logic in there somewhere. But my brain's too tired to try and find it."

"How can you be tired? You've been sleeping since we got back."

"Magic."

Her friend snorted as he made himself more comfortable, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. She watched as the lines around his mouth and eyes faded, wiping years off of his features. His breathing became heavy, the soothing sound slowing drawing her eyes closed with each breath.

Nixon POV

He blinked up at the unfamiliar ceiling, trying to remember where he was and how he'd gotten there. It was then that he became aware of the warm body snuggled into his side. His heart leapt into his throat as his hungover brain tried to catch up with the situation he found himself in.

Remaining as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe, he tried to start working through the last few hours.

Okay, drinks with Dick. There's was pretty redhead there. Did we talk? Yes, yes we talked.

The women at his side moaned softly and pushed herself in closer to him. He froze, not daring to even think now, and waited. When her breathing evened out again his muscles relaxed, but he remained painfully aware of the body curled into a ball next to him, her warm breath seeping through his shirt to heat his skin.

Shirt? Okay, so I'm still wearing my shirt. Right Nixon, redhead. Dick left you after a few, and then you were alone with her. Fuck, how much did you have to drink? Did you leave together? What was her name? Kathy, Becky? Jesus what a mess.

As if sensing his thoughts his companion stirred, her body slowly uncurling as she rolled away from him. He considered pretending to still be asleep, but felt like a coward for even entertaining the idea. So instead he slowly turned just his head until his eyes found the face of the woman lying next to him. He nearly choked when his eyes landed on Jessica's soft blonde hair cascading down the pillow to frame her puffy face, the pillow leaving a soft line running across one cheek. The late afternoon sun seeped through the window, given her a golden glow he didn't think was natural. She slowly turned her head, a lazy smile on her full lips as those pale blue eyes found his.

"Hey," she whispered, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Ummm…..," was all he could manage.

Jessica turned and rose slightly so her head was propped up by one hand. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to have a heart attack."

"Fine. Just fine," he managed to croak out.

"Oh god, you're not going to be sick in my bed are you? Please don't, everything is so clean."

He stared at her, the woman who'd become one of his closest friends as he tried to find the words to apologise for whatever he'd done. The previous evening was beginning to come back to him in drips and drabs. He'd left the bar with the redhead sometime after one o'clock in the morning. After spending a few hours with her he'd made his way to his billet, by some miracle managing to miss everyone and sneak into his room.

Then what? How the hell did I end up in Jessica's bed?

"Nix?" she called, reaching for him. "I can't believe we both fell asleep again. You must've had one hell of a night. When you barged in here earlier I swore you were planning on dragging me out into the world."

"What?" he said, the word stumbling from between his lips before he could stop it.

She frowned and sat up, taking the sheet with her as she went. With the white fabric tucked in around her chest so only the top of the old army shirt she slept in was visible she answered, "You came into my room around noon. I thought you were going to try and get me up. A task you would have failed spectacularly in by the way. But instead you kicked off your shoes and fell asleep."

It was only then that he bothered to properly look around the room. He still had all his clothes on, and judging by the look of them it was the same uniform he'd worn out the previous evening. He could see one shoe lying on the floor and the bedroom door stood wide open.

His head sagged and he laughed, relief washing over him as he realised he hadn't made the biggest mistake of his entire life.

When he finally regained control and looked up Jessica was staring at him, a smirk on her lips. "You thought we'd slept together, didn't you?"

"I…ummm….well…."

He'd expected a lot of reactions, but when she threw her head back and laughed he stared at her. Confused, relieved and astounded in equal measure.

"Shit Nix," she managed through giggles, "I like to think you'd clearly remember if it did happen. Also, I think I'm offended."

"Why?"

She took a deep breath and said, "Well, you looked like you were about to faint. I'm a bit offended that the mere thought of sleeping with me strikes such panic into you."

He abruptly pushed himself into a sitting position, moving so quickly the room spun slightly. "No, Jess. Shit, it's not like that. We're…well you and I…You're amazing and any guy would be lucky. But…it's us and there's Dick and not to mention Speirs would kill me."

He ran out of words to say so decided instead to run his hand over his face. Hoping to wake up his brain so he could string a coherent sentence together.

"Nix," Jessica said, a hand gently coming to rest on his shoulder. "I was just teasing you. I know what you mean. You're very handsome and judging by the lipstick stain on your collar you know it, but it's you and me. We can sleep in the same bed, and by the way you make an amazing human pillow so I may crawl into yours at some point, but we will never sleep together."

He dropped his hand and turned his head slightly so he could look at her. Her eyes were soft, the blue almost translucent in the light, and the softest of smiles graced her features. She looked young and relaxed and happy. Things he hadn't been able to associate with her since she'd left them standing in the officers' mess.

He reached for her hand, gently entangling their fingers. "You know I'd do anything for you, right kid?"

"I know Nix. You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you right?"

He felt his lips move into a smile. Leaning over he pressed a kiss onto her forehead before resting his forehead against hers. His eyes closed of their own accord as he felt all the tension he'd built up for months slowly seep from his bones.

"Clark's dead." She said it so softly he would have missed the words if it hadn't been for the warm tear landing on his hand.

He was able to pull her against him, her smaller body fitting onto his lap, just as the first sob tore through her chest. Jessica buried her face into his shoulder and he held her tight as sob after sob shook her frame. He felt his own grief start to claw up the back of his throat as his eyes stung.

"Sshhhh….," he cooed, rocking them back and forth as silent tears rolled down his cheeks.

Nixon didn't hear Jane approach, or see the single tear that rolled down her cheek, but he heard the door softly shut behind him, a whispered prayer hanging in the air.

Joe POV

Joe

Meet me at our hill tomorrow at 17:00.

Arlene

Flopping back on his bunk, holding the scrap of paper to his chest, he sighed. Arlene had handed him the letter as they'd disembarked from the troopship. Unlike the time he'd watched her disembark after their journey from the States, they hadn't remained separated from everyone else. He assumed it had more to do with the fact that they had an entire Company watching out for them, or the fact that everyone was too exhausted to care, than any real change in the Military's opinion of women on ships.

When she'd slipped the scrap of yellowing paper into his palm she'd smiled, and even through the layer of grime that covered her face he was caught off guard by how beautiful she was. To him, she was perfection, whether she was wearing a ball gown or a destroyed uniform, it didn't matter.

As soon as the paper had touched his skin she'd vanished into the see of soldiers, her small frame protectively dwarfed by her men's. He'd shoved the letter inside his jacket, resisting the urge to read it right then and there. He hadn't wanted to risk losing it in the press of bodies, or have some nosy comrade read it over his shoulder.

He closed his eyes, trying and failing to fall asleep. The billet was quiet since most of the men had already left for London and the few that remained were out in the village. Of course most of the guys had wondered out loud why he wasn't joining them in London straight away, but as quickly as the question came up they got distracted and dropped it.

With a frustrated sigh he pulled himself up and out of the bed. He was kidding himself if he thought he'd be able to sleep with the anticipation wreaking havoc on his nerves. Walking to the door he checked his wristwatch again, his stomach sinking in disappointment when he noticed the hands had hardly moved since he'd last checked it.

Noon. Fuck.

He stopped just outside the billet and casually leaned against the doorframe. He lit a cigarette, allowing the nicotine filled warm smoke to soothe his nerves as he played out every possible scenario in his mind.

Joe wasn't an idiot, despite how he sometimes acted, he knew this meeting would determine what happened between them going forward, or didn't happen. It was that exact knowledge that was making it impossible to sleep or concentrate on anything else, his stomach a tight knot sitting in his throat.

Right, scenario one: She wants tell you it was all a mistake and she never wants anything to do with you.

Scenario two: She suffered from temporary insanity and wants nothing to do with you.

Scenario three: She wanted you but has changed her mind. It's done before it even really began and he needs to accept that.

He roughly ran a hand through his hair and over his face, groaning into his palm. He was pretty sure Arlene wasn't the type to ask him to meet her alone at a spot where they shared a happy memory just to tell him off. But still, it could happen and that alone was enough to make him feel sick.

In one practiced movement he tossed the cigarette stump to the ground, stomping it out as he lit another one. He made a note to scrounge another pack as soon as possible, at this rate he was going to be out sooner rather than later.

As he blew out a long trail of smoke, watching the grey cloud be carried away by a light breeze he continued his mental exercise.

Scenario four: They have a massive fight and it all ends in a flaming mess. Possible, very fucking possible. Especially considering their track record.

Scenario five: She finally tells him why she'd left him in New York and it's something he just can't get past. Maybe she has a husband hidden away somewhere. Actually, scratch that, if she was going to leave the husband he'd be okay with it.

Scenario six: It all works out. And then one of them dies in some unimportant battle that no one will ever remember.

Well, no one ever accused him of being the overly optimistic type.

He threw his head back in frustration, unintentionally knocking it against the doorframe he was leaning against.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he growled, vigorously rubbing the back of his head.

This was going to be a long afternoon.

Arlene POV

The summer breeze played with her loose hair as she curled her toes into the green grass. The fabric of her tea length dress gently swayed against her bare legs, the small red flowers on her dress dancing on the white field.

From where she stood at the top of the small hill she watched the jeep pull closer, a dust cloud following its path before dissipating into the late afternoon sky.

Arlene smoothed down her dress and tucked some wayward hair behind her ears. Between growing up with her parents who believed in everything being just so, her training and subsequent work, she had more than enough experience in acting one way while feeling another. But try as she might she couldn't stop herself from fidgeting, the anticipation turning her insides into one tightly wound ball.

Her eyes followed Joe as he started to walk up the slight hill. His dress uniform, minus the jacket, fit his slender frame perfectly, accentuating the strength in his shoulders and his narrow hips. His dark hair was slicked back, drawing focus to his sharp features. Joe kept his eyes trained on the ground in front of him, making it impossible for her to read his emotions through them.

She stopped herself as she started to smooth over the non-existent creases in her dress again. Taking more effort than it should, she clamped her hands behind her back, rolled her shoulders and tried to relax her facial muscles less they give her away.

This was it. It's now or never, she thought, self-consciously clearing her throat as she tried to dislodge the nerves.

Joe stopped in front of her, close enough to touch, but neither one of them moved. It was only then that he raised his eyes to meet hers and she had to clench her hands painfully behind her back to stop herself from reaching for him. His dark eyes, usually so full of swagger and confidence, were brimming with uncertainty and apprehension. His lips were set into a thin line, and now that he was close she could see the muscles in his jaw strain as he tried to remain in control of whatever emotion he was feeling.

Well, this is dramatic, she thought, silently groaning.

Hoping to defuse some of the palpable tension she gestured to the dark blue blanket lying on the grass. "Let's sit. We'll be able to see the sunset from here."

Taking a seat next to one another she crossed her legs in front of her, eyes darting between the horizon and her silent companion.

"Thank you for coming. I'm sure you wanted to go to London with the rest of the boys. Heaven knows Bill pestered me to go with them. That man does not take no for an answer."

They both laughed at her attempt at a joke, but the sound was strained and faded quickly. An awkward silence fell between them and she knew she should be the one to break it. She had asked him here after all. But every time she started to form a sentence in her mind she discarded it, unsure of how to start.

Joe thankfully saved her from her inner monologue by clearing his throat and saying, "I was never going to go to London. Not unless you were."

Understanding the meaning behind his words her head slowly moved until she met his dark eyes steadily watching her. Neither one dared to move as the world around them faded away to nothing and she could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her. The twitch of Joe's one finger reminded her lungs they needed air. They screamed back to life, demanding her attention, and with a snap the moment passed as she tried to hide her gasping for air by turning back to the horizon.

Her eyes found a patch of white clouds to study as she scraped together all her courage and said, "You asked me why I left you in New York."

From the corner of her eyes she saw his long legs stretch out in front of them. "Mhm."

"Well, the reasons I gave in my letter were and are all true. Not one was a lie. They just weren't the whole truth."

She played with the hem of her skirt, gathering her thoughts as Joe waited patiently for her to continue. "Shortly after the British withdrew from France our unit was sent back to Europe. The idea was that we would mostly work with local resistance movements and gather intelligence which we would filter back to England and America."

"Mostly?"

She nodded. "Every so often we took part in joint missions with the British Expeditionary Forces, but mostly we worked with resistance movements."

Arlene heard him hum and took it as a sign to continue. Pulling out a stray thread from her dress' hem she said, "When we were working in Holland I met and started a relationship with a man named Michael. He was from Germany, but worked with the local resistance movement. For over a year we operated between Holland, Germany and France."

Joe grabbed her shoulder. "Wait, what?"

She turned her head so she could look at him, not sure which part he'd missed.

He must have read her confusion on her face because he clarified, "Germany?"

Arlene blinked, suddenly acutely aware of his steady hand holding onto her shoulder. She gulped, hoping he didn't hear the nose from his position. "Yes, Germany. Not a lot and it was mostly Jessica and I that would go with Michael. The men drew too much attention."

His eyes flicked to the hand still holding onto her and suddenly it dropped away, leaving a scorching print in its absence. "Fuck. Germany."

Joe looked away from her, staring off into the blue sky, maybe even tracking the same cloud she'd fixed her gaze on moments earlier.

Arlene waited a few moments, giving him time to digest everything she'd just shared. She tore out a blade of grass and started to slowly pull it apart. All the time aware of every breath the man sitting beside her took.

She heard him breathe deeply before he asked, "Did he die? Michael. Is that it?"

She snorted before she could think to stop herself. "No, although that would have saved us all a lot of trouble and blood."

His head snapped around, eyebrows furrowed into a deep V. She watched him from the corner of her eye but didn't turn to face him, if she did she wasn't sure she'd be able to get through the rest of her confession. "Jessica and I were working with two SOE agents in Holland, near the German border. The assignment was supposed to be relatively short, but it had ended up dragging on for weeks. Our communication with the resistance and our men was limited, but even so, when our communication lines suddenly broke down we knew something had gone wrong."

Joe shifted, his body leaning towards hers. She dared to steal a glance at him and all she found in his eyes was genuine concern, laid bare for all to see.

She turned away, once again finding her patch of clouds. She needed to keep it together and seeing his concern for her wasn't going to help. Not now at least. "We were about to leave when I received an encoded message from Michael telling us we'd been compromised and the Nazi's were moving in. He…ummmm…he'd set up an extraction for us. Gave me the directions to an abandoned airfield outside town."

"Okay," Joe said, drawing out each syllable.

"When we reached the airfield it was pitch black expect for a jeep which had its headlights on. The lights were shining directly into our eyes, but I was able to make out a man's shape leaning against the car. It looked like Michael."

"Was it him?"

"Mhm, it was him. I'd know that shadow in the dark. That's why I didn't question anything, just hopped right out."

She paused and pressed a hand to her heart as if she could slow its hammering. Her breathing had sped up as she'd told the story, the suppressed memory still as vibrant as ever. She knew she had to regain control or her raw emotions would win out.

Strong fingers intertwined with hers as Joe rubbed soothing circles onto her back. "You don't have to tell me the rest."

She took a deep breath, leaning ever so slightly into the hand rubbing her back. It stilled, but stayed pressed to her. "I want to."

Opening her eyes she continued, doing her best to keep her voice factual. The emotions would come later. "Jess was driving. When we all got out she stayed put, kept the engine running. I saw her take her pistol out, eyes jumping side to side. I told her to get out because we had to go and she said we had to get back in, that something was off. I –," her voice cracked a fraction and she swallowed her words.

Steadying herself she continued, "I told her it was just because it was Michael. She'd never liked him. Didn't trust him for a damn. When we'd started dating she would say as much and when it had become very serious she'd tolerate him. Barely."

She tracked the path of a bird languidly flying across the blue sky. "Anyway, soon enough the two SOE agents started shouting. Telling us to move our asses. Then Michael approached the car, ordering us to move. Saying we didn't have enough time. We were all shouting, the SOE agents were already walking towards the plane and then…Jess just stopped."

The silence stretched out between them as she tried to suppress the images flashing through her mind's eye. Joe didn't say anything, but his grip on her hand tightened and the weight of his hand on her back increased, grounding her to the here and now. She blinked and for a second she was back on that airfield. She took a deep breath, her free hand gripping the blanket they were sitting on for dear life.

"I'd been watching Michael," her voice sounded far away to her own ears, like it belonged to a stranger telling a story she didn't know, "he was maybe three feet away from me, but the moment Jessica fell quiet I knew."

For the first time since she'd started telling the story she risked looking at Joe. The sympathy and dread in his eyes nearly overwhelmed her. She quickly jerked her head forward and continued, "The next moment Jess fired a shot into the shadow nearest to the one SOE agent and a Nazi officer stumbled out, clutching his stomach. There was this odd, perfect moment, where no one moved, or breathed. And then hell broke out. We all had a loaded gun, but we were outnumbered three to one at least. Germans, Gestapo and SS, streamed out of the shadows. Jessica and the SOE agent closest to me had opened fire. The other agent had gotten off a few shots when two SS tackled her. She screamed and screamed as they beat her."

Her head dropped as she tried to silence the screaming in her head. The woman's desperate cries for help. "Jessica was screaming at me to get in the car and I just stood there. I stood there as Michael, the man I loved and was convinced I was going to spend my life with, shouted orders, in German. I was frozen, so when he rushed me and grabbed my arm I didn't do anything. I just let it happen. I let all of it happen."

"Arlene, what happened wasn't your fault," Joe said, his words sure and strong, but she ignored them.

"He started to drag me off and I knew I should fight back, but I couldn't. None of my training or experience helped. I was frozen. The next thing I know he drops my arm, screeching something awful. It was that sound that really snapped me to. I stumbled back to the car. As soon as I fell into a seat Jessica sped off like a bat out of hell. She took some back roads she hadn't told any of us about. Driving without headlights on so we couldn't be followed. She hadn't told any of us about the roads because she knew I'd tell Michael."

She choked out a dark laugh and shook her head. God, she'd been such a fool.

"By the time we reached a safe house it was almost dawn. There was enough light for me to see that not only had we lost one agent to the Gestapo, but Jessica had been shot. She'd been hit when she'd gotten out of the car to shoot Michael as he was escorting me to my torture and death. The bullet was lodged in her shoulder, we had to dig it out that night using old kitchen utensils. She lost a lot of blood."

"Shit," he sighed.

"Later we found out Michael had been working for the Gestapo the whole time. His mission had been to infiltrate the Dutch resistance so he could pass on information. After more than a year his superiors had felt our relationship would compromise his ability to do his job so they'd issued him an order. Bring us in. They didn't have to worry though. He wasn't compromised."

She twisted her body around so they were facing, anger and pain distorting her features and darkening her voice as hysteria slowly crept in. "He was leaning against the fucking car while he waited for us. Not a care in the damn world. So, you see the last man I loved nearly killed me, and I mean that in every sense of the word. I can never forgive myself for it. Not after the price everybody else had to pay."

"Arlene-,"

She cut him off, words now streaming from her lips. "I know you're not a Nazi spy working for the Gestapo, Joe. I know you're a good man. But I don't know if I deserve you after everything I've done, caused, and honestly, I'm petrified. I know I won't survive you. Not if you break my heart."

A tear rolled down her cheek. She started to turn away from the Joe, using the back of her hand to brush away the stream of tears now running down her face.

"Arlene," Joe whispered, but she didn't turn back to him. He gently reached for her face, cupping her tear stained cheek with one hand. He turned her face back to him, a thumb softly stroking her cheek.

"Arlene," he started again, his voice soft and vulnerable, "the moment you walked into that club there was only you and some part of me knew there would only ever be you. That's why I acted like such an idiot, walking around with that girl on my arm, being a jerk. I didn't know what to do because everything I ever thought I knew, you'd turned upside down. If you're petrified that's great because I feel the same way. I have since we met."

Her right hand drifted up to his face, coming to rest against his cheek. She felt her body relax, all the tension it had held since jumping into France months earlier evaporating. In perfect unison their bodies bowed towards one another, bending and moulding until she was wrapped up in his strong arms. He slightly bent his head so their noses brushed and her heart leapt into her throat.

Joe's warm breath caressed the soft skin of her lips. She curled her fingers around each bicep and felt his muscles jump under her touch. Her eyes fluttered closed as his gently brought his lips to meet hers.

She pulled away a fraction and whispered against his lips, "Maybe we can be petrified together?"

Arlene felt him smile. "Yeah, we can do that."

XXXXXXX

Hello lovely people! Hope the weekend is treating everyone well. I had so much fun writing this chapter so I hope you all really enjoy reading it. And, that it finally answers some questions.

Thank you to every review (makes my day every time hearing from you all!) and everyone that came back to the story. If you added the story to your alerts or favorites now or in the past you are amazing.