Hi! I've been very busy for the past few days, so hopefully everyone has had time to catch up with me (haha). I also decided I needed a smut outlet for this series, so I created Monroe and Rosalee Make a Porno and Other Smutty Stories. However, it is currently false advertising, as the title story is yet to be written. So if you like M-rated stuff and liked Heat and Fantasy, Interrupted, have a gander... something about this ship just makes me want to write smut all over the place... I'll probably also throw in some things from this series, too (YAY Past Life Smut!)
Speaking of Past Lives, here's another one! I admit I drew some inspiration from Pat Benatar's music video for this song (which was banned in Germany because of the Nazis, just a little random fact), and also from a few apocryphal stories floating around in my family. Awesome, right? Also, Monroe with a British accent in a Royal Air Force uniform. Let that sink in for a moment. You're welcome. I also decided to species-swap for this life, because why not.
Reviews/ Suggestions/ Song Requests always welcome!
As always I own nothing. But seriously, Monroe with a British accent in a RAF uniform? I would die.
Eastern Poland, December 1941
We're running with the shadows of the night,
So baby take my hand, it'll be alright.
Surrender all your dreams to me tonight;
They'll come true in the end.
You said, 'Oh, girl, it's a cold world
When you keep it all to yourself.'
I said, 'You can't hide on the inside
All the pain you've ever felt.'
Run to my heart, but baby don't look back,
'cause we've got nobody else.
We're running with the shadows of the night,
So baby take my hand, it'll be alright.
Surrender all your dreams to me tonight;
They'll come true in the end.
Raymond Calhoun pulled himself from the wreck of his Auster. The small plane's instruments had malfunctioned while he was on a recon mission over German-occupied Poland, near the Russian border, and he had to crash-land in a forest. The impact knocked him unconscious briefly, but he knew he had to get out of there quickly. He gathered his emergency kit and, almost as an afterthought, cut the radio wiring so the enemy couldn't find their frequency. He sat for a moment under the moon and pulled out his map. He couldn't read all of it, but he should be close to a river…
The snapping of a twig made him jump, and he woged. He mentally dared whatever it was to attack him; he'd show them. There was a shuffling, and from between the trees came a young woman carrying a large sack. She cautiously approached him; when she saw his woge, she woged as well, and the female Blutbad and the male Fuchsbau sized each other up. She put her sack on the ground and started to silently rummage through it.
"Um, hello?" Raymond started quietly. She pulled a pair of pants and a shirt from her bag. She handed them to him. He stared at her for a moment. She started speaking; it could have been Polish, Russian, or German, he had no idea. Then she started miming undressing and spoke in broken English.
"Put on, English. Danger." He pulled off his Royal Air Force uniform and shimmied into the clothes she gave him. He noticed her watching him dress, but pushed the thought from his mind.
"English, listen. My name Marina. If stop us, you my brother, moot. Yes?"
"Moot? Is that a name?" She rolled her eyes.
"No, moot. You no talk?" She looked at him intently. "Understand?"
"Oh, mute! Yes, I'm mute. Understood. My name is Raymond." He extended his hand, but she waved it away.
"Come. We go fast." She pointed to the wreck. "All you need, you take?" He nodded. She handed him her sack, and put a hand on his arm. "I keep you safe."
You know that sometimes it feels like
It's all moving way too fast;
Use every alibi and words you deny
That love ain't built to last.
You can cry tough, baby, it's alright.
You can let me down easy, but not tonight.
We're running with the shadows of the night,
So baby take my hand, it'll be alright.
Surrender all your dreams to me tonight;
They'll come true in the end.
Marina led him swiftly through the cold night, and Raymond never once worried for his safety; feeling her hand on his arm warmed him, and she knew her way. As they approached the small town, she slowed her pace. It was probably about an hour before dawn, and there were a few men patrolling along the stone wall. They were stationed every few hundred feet, with a man on either side of an archway leading into the town.
"Wait," she intoned quietly. Then, to his surprise, she let out a low whistle like a bird call. She stared intently at the guard closest to the gate and waited.
"What are we…" Raymond began, but she covered his mouth.
"Moot, English. Hush." She kept her hand over his mouth. He breathed in. She smelled like lemons and sage. A few minutes passed, and the guards rotated. Marina once again whistled. This time, two more whistles answered her. She grabbed his hand.
"Fast, English." They ran together toward the arch. As they approached, the guards both turned away, letting them pass. Marina led him down cobbled streets, frequently checking behind to make sure they weren't being followed. She eventually came to a house and lightly tapped a pattern on the glass of the window. A face appeared at the window, and the door opened. Marina ushered Raymond inside. He was then led down a flight of steps into a small room with a bed, a chest of drawers, a pair of candles and a wash basin. Marina was speaking breathlessly to the owner of the face, a little grey-haired man. Raymond couldn't understand anything they were saying, but that bed looked very inviting.
"Sorry to intrude, but may I sit?" he asked, a little more impatiently than he might have under normal circumstances.
"Yes, sit. This Yakov. Yakov house." She said something to Yakov, and he nodded and went upstairs. "Yakov bring food." She sat on the bed next to him. Raymond finally was able to take a look at her. She had soft brown eyes and long brown hair. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She was looking intently at him as well. She took his hand.
"You safe. Yakov my aunt."
"Beg pardon?" he questioned.
"Mother brother? Aunt?"
"Uncle."
"Uncool," she repeated. "Sorry, English not much good, but best in town. That why I get pilot."
"I think it's charming, my dear. Allow me to once again introduce myself. My name is Raymond Calhoun, Royal Air Force." He extended his hand. This time she shook it.
"When first meeting Russian, handshake a-okay. After first meeting, we do this." She scooted a little closer, and kissed one cheek, then the other, then the first again. Raymond felt his cheeks burn. He was not used to women being this affectionate, even if it was polite. She smiled broadly; yes, he was sure she was, in fact, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
Yakov soon returned with food, some soup and bread. He spoke quietly again to Marina and then went upstairs.
"Uncool Yakov say is time he work, but Raymond sleep. I no work, I stay with you, yes?" Raymond nodded, and at the mere mention of sleep, his eyelids became heavy. He curled up on the bed, and Marina covered him with a blanket. The last thing Raymond heard was her whispering in his ear.
"I keep you safe."
And now the hands of time are standing still;
Midnight angel, won't you say you will.
We're running with the shadows of the night,
So baby take my hand, it'll be alright.
Surrender all your dreams to me tonight;
They'll come true in the end.
Song: Shadows of the Night by Pat Benatar. From the album Get Nervous, copyright 1982, Chrysalis Records.