The Farm of M. Durand

1425 hours

"...Is that a marriage proposal, Doctor?" William teased, but only half-heartedly, searching her blue eyes for a sign, because that idea sounded wonderful.

Julia blinked; a wry smile on her lips. "Would you like it to be, Captain? I'm a strong willed woman. I won't ever be the type of woman who will wait for you every night. I'm going to want to go out there with you…"

"If you are willing to risk death with me in this rattle-trap of an airplane, will you take a risk on a life with me?" He searched her face. "I am not perfect, Julia. Far from it. I can be bull-headed… very single minded when I am solving a problem. I am too much in my thoughts - way too serious. I...I can't tell a joke to save myself. In every job I've ever had, I have put myself in harm's way…I will always tell you the truth, which has it's down sides..I...I am also Catholic, Julia, if it makes any difference to you. It is a large part of who I am..."

"I imagine you were an Eagle Scout too…" she joked.

"Well, yes…"

"Of course you were, William. I was a Girl Guide. I warn you, I am going to stay plain 'Doctor' Julia Ogden, no more hyphenation after marriage for me…"

William saw a sweet transformation come over her - her cheeks flushed, her blue eyes darkened and sparkled. He thought she fairly glowed...

"Is that a yes?" William interrupted her, heart in his throat. He knew this was so not like him, so out of his usual ways to act this impulsively. Maybe it was the danger making him reckless, but if he was going to die then he wanted to have given his heart, his whole being away at least once.

And I know, if God grants me a future, my future is her...

The journey they were about to embark upon was the epitome of insanity, but trying a gallic shrug herself, Julia flung caution to the wind. Her marriage to Donald Garland was very rational...practical and quite predictable.

It had stifled her.

Her relationship with William had been anything but, and Julia knew that's what she wanted: a man who saw her, her whole being and did not shy away, no matter the risk.

She made him wait, only a heartbeat or two, before bestowing him a broad smile. "Well, I...I suppose it is. But I will remain a physician, and I will pursue my career. I have as much to contribute as any man, and I…"

"I'd say you have more, and I wouldn't want you to waste your talents if that's where you need and deserve to be - out in the world. Just tell me you want a family, because as long as I have a child to raise, I don't need anything else," he promised. "Do you want children, Julia?"

"Actually, I always did. Once I imagined having a family, children in my life, someday." Her mind immediately went to her annulment. She winced. "But I don't know that I am able to have children, William, as much as I would love to. To be honest, infertility is the reason for granting my husband an annulment," she admitted.

Though he'd been here only a few short weeks, he'd already mastered the Gallic shrug. "So we adopt. Are you fine with that?" He asked, squeezing her hands.

"I am. Are you fine with that, William? This is not a minor detail."

He took both her hands in his and gazed at her face, the curve of her cheek, her stubborn chin and felt something release inside of him. Wiliam thought her eyes were an enchanting blue, so he made sure she was looking directly at him, so there could be no mistaking his sincerity. "Julia, the one thing I've learned is that most things are minor details...As long as you get the big ones right," he added, leaning in to kiss her. "You are right for me. You don't need my last name. Of course your work must continue. I don't care where we live. I told you, all I want is you...and to be a parent, have a family, with kids, whether we make them or not. When this war is over, I say we try, and if that's not successful, then we adopt."

She wiped a few tears from her cheek. "I love you too, William, as mad as that is, I so love you..." She melted against him, and he pulled her tight, running his hands along her back until they settled on her derriere, and squeezed. She fit him perfectly.

She looked around at the plane and at him. "Are we really doing all of this?" she asked with a laugh.

"Why not? I've heard war makes one do crazy things," he laughed back, kissing her again.

She gave herself completely over to his embrace. He tasted quite salty, more so than he had last night, and she wondered what he'd been up to early that morning. Running her fingers through his hair, Julia guessed he'd been at the beach as it definitely had that feel to it, surrendering to the truth that she'll never be able to ask him because of his job. None of that mattered. Happiness, sheer joy...that was what mattered now.

Lost in their own world they both jumped when M. Durand cleared his throat loudly, pointing to a motorcycle coming their way, kicking up a plume of dust.

Pulling back as if from a daze, he leaned his forehead against hers. "Julia, this is going to be dangerous, very dangerous. I won't think any less of you if you don't want to go," he murmured, giving her backside another stroke of his hand.

"William, I thought we just promised one another 'till death do us part.' I told you, I'm not an easy woman. You might live to regret this, or wish we had perished if we complete this mission," she giggled.

"Then I shall look forward to you ordering me around, Major. Let's find out what this chap wants, then, shall we?" he motioned towards the plane.

Julia touched his face and let him go. She went to pack the Ryan M-1 and retrieve the water, goggles and jacket M. Durand offered, while William spoke with the messenger, thinking he was taking his time about it. She was waiting for him when he was finished.

"What was that all about, William, with the messenger?" she asked, aware his mood was tense by the flat set of his lips.

William thought about his answer, hesitating a fraction of a second. "It is nearly 1430 hours, or thereabouts. We have a...slight...change of plans. I have much less time to deliver my report than I originally believed. Instead of a visual flight along the coast to Cherbourg and then north over water to Wight, we need to go straight across from here, then keep going to Buckinghamshire. Do we have enough fuel and you think we can fly all the way to RAF Cheddington if I can navigate it?"

"What about RAF Ventnor? You told me they had radar that would detect us, and…" she trailed off - the thought of being killed by their own too unpalatable to fathom.

"I gave instructions to the messenger who assured me that C-n-C will inform traffic control that we are flying an old plane and to expect us. This plane leaves a distinct trace on radar as an older plane - quite different from the newer German planes," he assured her. "We'll be fine. We just need to clear the Germans here in France and once we get over the channel, we should be fine."

She took the map and compass, scribbling a few notes on the side in pencil. "Well then… Yes, just, with the amount of petrol we have. Especially if we get a tailwind. What are we going to do about not getting shot down?"

William gestured to M. Durand, who pulled the last of the tarp off the tail to reveal a freshly painted red Maple Leaf on one side and a crude Union Jack on the other.

William's smile curled over his face, seeing her happy surprise. "Will that do?"

"Yes, I believe it will. Are we ready, then?" she asked.

"Almost," he said, reaching for something in his pocket...