CHAPTER I: GENESIS

"So, what did I do to deserve such a pretty dame as you taking care of me?"

The words had been spoken with ragged breaths parting the pilot's lips, his body lying on a cot. The dirty blond hair stuck to his forehead, disheveled and matted when they had brought him in. Now laying before her, he had questioned with blue eyes that had turned weary in a split second. Heavy-lidded, a crooked smile gracing his bloodied features despite the pain he seemed to be in.

Naomi chose not to respond. Instead, nimble fingers became adept at undoing the quick handiwork of the corpsman whom had given prior treatment. The bandages had become red, failing to properly stem the bleeding. Quickly having removed them, Naomi was met with different cuts and wounds. All of them clearly needed attention. Thus, she began to clean them, her face showing nothing more than deep concentration.

"Ah—goddamn," the pilot hissed through his teeth; she could feel his eyes burn holes into her own. "That hurts!"

"Please lay still, Ensign Jones." She had spoken those words sternly, the sudden tightening of a bandage around his arm a subtle reminder that he was at her mercy. Before he could protest further, Naomi spoke again, the way she voiced her opinion calm and decisive. "Listen, you are in my care on the USS Solace. You broke your ribs when your plane landed in the water. I suggest that you do not move, as it will only prolong the healing process."

Jones heaved a sigh. "Understood, ma'am. They'll, uh... they'll bring me stateside, won't they?"

The words hung stiffly in the air, cordial and practical of nature. It was all for a good reason — she had learned not too long ago that fraternizing with any of the men was not befitting of a nurse. Her stiffness had taught the ensign in her care to stay in line. Attachment in this field of work was undone. Even more so, it was her own personal preference to stay far away from flirty advances or remarks. As she still stood, washing away the dried blood that rested in the palm of her very hands, Naomi turned to look at the pilot. The hesitation had been clear in his voice, a hint of desperation hidden within that had hoped for a different answer. An answer that would do anything but confirm his suspicions.

"Yes," Naomi affirmed, her hands folded as she sat down next to the cot. "You will be away for weeks including rehabilitation. I wish I could say something else, but... I can't." The brown-haired woman gave a gentle smile, a small comfort in the dark of the room. "Rest assured, they're not taking your wings away from you."

"That's good, then." Jones let out a hearty chuckle — one that quickly turned into a spluttering of coughs as calloused hands automatically reached for his chest. His face changed into a grimace. "God, this is painful. Could I get some morphine?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely, I can oblige."

"Thank you," came the response, his lips having turned into a small smile. Even with the pain and a few broken ribs, the man radiated confidence. Despite it all, he miraculously had a loose lip, his sentences breathless but inviting. "I'm Andrew, by the way. I figured since I am in your care, I might as well... strike some sort of conversation with you. Something that's not, huh... constantly calling you 'ma'am' and… well. Yeah."

Naomi's brows had begun to rise, the expression on her face incredulous. If there was one thing all the men within the Navy had in common, it was that they were all rather overconfident. Especially when they managed to land a spot within sick bay or a hospital ship. The woman rolled her eyes, lips pursed in disapproval as she stared at his hopeful expression.

"I am still Nurse Howard to you, Ensign Jones. And perhaps I shouldn't talk so freely about this but," she spoke, raising up a clipboard, "I've seen your medical chart. I already got acquainted with your name."

"I see. Well, that's a fair move, Nurse Howard." Andrew winked, his own sweet form of retaliation.

Naomi was not charmed. But in the deepest recesses of her mind, she had to admit that he was smart. Like any other man on this planet, she had to remind herself. Even then, the nurse found herself wondering about the reason behind his misfortune. It was not her duty to pry. However, the fact that the USS Solace had seen relatively calm days made her yearn for some action. It was the impatience within her that was looking for anything to latch onto, as a reminder that this was real. She had chosen not to stay behind and play the socialite her parents had expected her to become. Lost in thought, Naomi shook herself out of it, steeling herself for a question she hoped was not too invasive. As the saying went, curiosity killed the cat.

"Ensign Jones, could I ask how exactly it happened?"

"That something my medical chart can't tell you?"

Naomi had to fight back the blush slowly adorning her cheeks, finding truth within his reprimand. Even if it was spoken in jest, Andrew had hinted at it being a small jab. Her own response was mulled over in her head, sentences and words being contemplated.

"As my patient, it is my duty to know the details so I can provide the best treatment," she slowly began, nodding at the bandages marring his exposed skin. It was a statement, a perfectly fabricated lie — it almost sounded too good to be true. "If you wish not to tell me, you can. I just wanted to hear it from you, and not as a mere rumor through others. Frankly, that would be a disservice." She waited with bated breath for his reply, fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the cotton rag in between them.

Much to her surprise, he waved her worries away.

"Look, it's no big deal," Andrew voiced, brows furrowed as memories started to flood back in of the accident. He could not do much but lay down, his back feeling as if it had been smashed into pieces. The man's gaze did not meet hers as he spoke, his lips and throat dry. "My torpedo squadron had been sent back to Pearl after a training maneuver. Standard precautions, since we're not cleared to make a night landing with live ordnance."

"Live ordnance?"

"Yeah," the blond continued, a small smile gracing his features. "But don't worry, it was just for training. Either way, in order to make that landing on the Enterprise, they had us circle back to Pearl first."

Naomi nodded, piecing the story together as it unfolded before her eyes, her lips pursed in thought. "And on the return flight was where it all went wrong."

"Unfortunately. Accidents happen." A pause, no doubt to choose his next words. They came out bitterly, the memory of the Enterprise greeting him fondly — until it was met with the sight of the dark ocean. "As I was getting ready to land, the landing gear didn't come out on time," Andrew humorlessly chuckled, unfazed as he took in her puzzling features. "Wham, there I went. Skidded right off the deck into the water, as you already know. And I get this to thank for it."

"I am sorry," were the words parting her lips, her guilt for asking overwhelming; it was the common thread running through the syllables.

Andrew simply gave her a look, one that was meant to put her at ease as his mouth curled upwards in kindness — he found nothing to blame her for. "It's not your fault. Don't linger on it."

"Still, thank you for telling me, Ensign Jones." She gave a genuine smile at that, the morphine in the grasp of her hand ready to be given. Naomi cleared her throat. "Well, you should try getting some rest, I've kept you up needlessly. I'll administer the morphine now."

Standing at the stern underneath the lone company of a crescent moon, the wind caressed her hair. It left a trail of shivers down her spine, hand reaching for the pockets in her uniform. In the dark, a cigarette had been lit, the sound of the lighter closing a familiar one. It was comfortable against her ears, an escape from the duties that the ship bore for her. Nevertheless, quietude had the upper hand. It had been a shift of ten hours, and all Naomi had done was letting her gaze fall on a variety of patients. She had watched with a gaze intent on caring for them, poised and ready should one of them need help. It was a routine, one that could be seen as dull for some.

Naomi Howard, however, considered it her work. Her thoughts had drifted off to the day she had officially joined. She had held up her hand, taken the oath to be a nurse with precision and unrivaled purpose. Even if the memory was a fond one, quiet nights still left their mark.

"Don't let them catch you smoke that," a voice suddenly piped up.

Turning around, Naomi could see a familiar silhouette approaching, the dark shadow moving closer to where the nurse stood. Grey smoke intermingled with the air, the cigarette resting snugly still between her lips. Brown eyes calmly watched the reason of her interrupted tranquility.

"You know the Navy doesn't promote smoking, Naomi," the quip rolling smoothly off her tongue.

"Come to pinch one off me again, Dorothy?" the dark-haired nurse had returned in jest, the melody of a chuckle disappearing into the evening sky. Naomi turned towards her friend, offering the already lit cigarette without much complaining.

"You know me so well," Dorothy began, her auburn hair fitted into a tight bun as loose curls framed her face. Graciously having accepted the other's offer, she exhaled the smoke; a question was ready to be voiced to keep the conversation alive. Many considered it mindless chatter about the mundane of their work, but it was something that kept them grounded. "So, how was your shift? I heard you treated the pilot who came in today?"

Naomi nodded in confirmation, her memories shifting to the past. "Yes, I did. And he was… quite a cocky pilot for a man who broke his ribs," were the words parting into the air, earning a chuckle from Dorothy as reaction.

"Aren't they all just chivalrous? Before you realize it, they come up with their undying devotion of their love to you," she spoke, a smile slipping through the cracks of her composure.

"Believe me, I have heard that so many times already. Yet, telling them that I am not interested only serves to keep them motivated."

"Oh, honey." Dorothy flicked her cigarette into the waters below, disappearing underneath the calm waves left in the ship's wake. "Chasing is all that they're good at. It's unfortunate for them, but fortunate for us."

Naomi could feel the crease appear on her forehead, lips pursed in thought as she sought the right words to speak. It was no secret that many had signed up to catch either a husband or wife. Regarding her friend in silence, Naomi knew that Dorothy had been very candid on her reasons why from the day they had met. Her friend had been honest — to a fault. However, despite their similarities, they were as different as the sun and moon when it came down to matters of the heart. Dorothy kept hers open. Naomi could only look on.

She took another drag of her cigarette, the choice to disregard Dorothy's comment easily made. "Well, before you ask, Ensign Jones will be fine."

The jab went unnoticed. Dorothy smiled, "Your expertise has not gone unnoticed. Many can attest to that fact. Tell me, is that why you requested a transfer?"

"Perhaps."

Naomi did not speak further. The single word was as wine upon her lips, effortlessly uttered by a woman who was once cut out to be a socialite. No one knew. No one who had mattered to the young woman had been invited to this chapter of her life. The Howard family did not care; the day she took the oath, she had come alone. It was a deliberate choice that carved her future career, enabling no future ill intentions and no meddling from outside influences. Her father had no say. Not even under the pretenses of safety and having the best interests of his daughter at heart. Naomi knew that those open wounds were too fresh to explain or share. In the end, Dorothy had neither asked nor pried further.

It was mutual respect that brought their friendship together. Yet, this single choice was kept in the dark. In the midst of it all, Naomi could only offer a vague explanation.

"We shall see where I end up," Naomi spoke, her empty cigarette meeting that same lonely fate within dark waters. "First things first, we will return to Pearl Harbor tomorrow in the evening. I can't wait to be able to stretch my legs on actual land."

"Oh, believe me. Sea duty for a prolonged time is not something I love. God, what I wouldn't give to be hanging around at the beach, sipping on cocktails with my feet in the sand," Dorothy hummed. "I know I could use that break. December in Hawaii is like summer."

Naomi let out an uncharacteristic snort. "I will be having a nice sleep as soon as we arrive. Cocktails will have to wait until Sunday."

"You're no fun, aren't you?" Dorothy mock-pouted.

"Please," was the simple retort on her lips. As Naomi turned away from the railing to return into the confines of the ship's maze, a chuckle left her silhouette. She did love cocktails and catching a tan at the beach. But after having been on active duty at the USS Solace for weeks with no proper rest, the sound of a comfortable bed and fluffy pillows seemed more enticing. "I am more fun fully awake than half asleep."

Rest came easily that night, her mind drifting off to past memories.

"You are one of my best nurses, Miss Howard. As such, it is my duty to ask you to stay."

The sentence had been uttered with determination, perhaps a fool's determination, as blue eyes looked on knowing that the plea within would go unheard. And they were right. The expression on Naomi's face had been unfaltering, calm and decisive. The wooden chair digging into her spine did nothing to ease her announcement. The office was bathed in the cool light of the morning sun, not yet acquainted with the heat that the Hawaiian weather would bring. The ticking of the clock seemed to go on endlessly.

"I have made my choice, Captain."

"You do realize that this will not be easy?" he posed, the question weighing heavily in the silence between them. The paper underneath his hands met with the signing of his handwriting, ink flowing onto the clauses with a sense of finality. "When they first told me about it, I could not believe my own ears. It is unheard of and new, Miss Howard."

"I am certain."

Naomi knew. It was an unspoken request for her to refrain from going through with it all, a demand that she would be needed more within the ranks of the Navy than there. Captain Reynolds believed heavily in his own convictions. Now, however, he had zero compromises to place his focus on. The dark-haired woman could only watch as his strength of will crumbled. A sigh parted his weary face.

"Well, it is done. You will report to your new outfit starting in the new year, Lieutenant. Until then, the Pacific Fleet still has need of you," Reynolds spoke firmly.

"Thank you, sir."

"You may be dismissed."

The lightness of her voice had been coolly set aside for the harshness in that of her commanding officer. In fact, soon to be ex-commanding officer, Naomi quietly reminded herself, heels turning to leave behind the bureaucracy of the hospital command. As the door closed, the view of the ocean became clear. Outside, the hustle and bustle of life in Hawaii met her gaze, with the Solace on the horizon. In all its grandeur, the ship seemed to bask in peace; not in the suffering of ailing patients. From the corner of her eye, Naomi could see Dorothy approach, her uniform crisp and white, ready to see duty once more.

"Reynolds didn't let you go easily, did he?" The question had parted her lips with ease, the statement riddled with blatant curiosity.

Naomi shrugged. "Actually, I was surprised that he did not give me a further lecture. Of course, he confirmed that I was one of his best."

"What a cheeky fellow," she huffed. "Pulling out the big guns just to get you to stay."

"Don't let him hear you say that, Dorothy."

"He'd wish," she smiled, the expression on her face poignant. "So, when are you leaving? I need to know when I have to throw you a little farewell party."

"I have until next year," Naomi answered, gesturing for Dorothy to follow her into the shade of the ship, the gangway inviting them in. As they stood still, the world around them never seemed to stop. Medical staff were surrounding the docks, a variety of shipments moving to and fro. It was a pattern that she had gotten used to, preparing the ship for each of its voyages, leaving the harbor behind to meet the vast expanse of the ocean. Brown eyes met green ones. "I will miss this," she admitted. "And I will miss you once I leave."

"Don't make me get all teary-eyed," Dorothy quipped. A small smile graced her features, the realization setting in. "Well, we'll just have to make the most of it, right?"

"Right," the young nurse had mirrored.

Deep down, as the two women crossed the gangway, the thought never occurred to Naomi that she may have made a mistake.

A/N: Hey y'all! This is another Band of Brothers story of mine, and this time it is with a heroine! Just like Shadowing a Ghost, I'm writing this story as I go. Updates will be sporadic. If you have constructive criticism or any questions, feel free to let me know — I highly appreciate them. I hope the introduction is interesting enough, and I hope you're all excited to follow Naomi's story! There will be a pairing but as I'm not entirely sure yet on who will be featured, feel free to leave suggestions!

Now, the disclaimer, which applies to the entire story: Anything related to the HBO miniseries and the book written by Stephen E. Ambrose is not owned by me. The original characters and any plotline you might not recognize are my creation. Once again, this story is based on the portrayals in the miniseries, not the real men themselves. I am using various sources to keep it as historically accurate as possible.