Disclaimer: all the usual apply.

Chapter 11

Jessica POV

Their local pub was warm, a lazy haze of smoke hanging in the air and the soft hum of friendly conversations providing the perfect background music.

The pub was comfortably full, all the tables were occupied and a few people were leaning against the bar but there wasn't the usual press of bodies that made you feel a little bit claustrophobic.

She and David had joined Clark, Alex, Nixon, Richard, Harry, Buck, Ron and Meehan for a few drinks. She'd hoped Arlene would be able to join them, but of course when she'd heard why she couldn't she'd clapped her hands and jumped up and down, much to David and Clark's amusement.

There was one other table of Easy men huddled together in the furthest corner of the bar. She'd waved to them when they'd arrived, catching Luz's eye he'd tilted his glass in her direction. She'd mentally planned to pop over to their table a bit later, see how they were doing being away from home this time of year.

"So David, you're in the RAF. What, our own pilots not good enough for you?" Buck asked between drags of his cigarette.

"Nah, our guys are great. We just took to damn long to join the fight. And I couldn't very well stay at home knowing my little sister was over here, gallivanting in Europe."

She shot him a sideways look. "Oh yes, gallivanting is exactly what I'd call it."

He just shrugged.

"Wait, wait, wait. You're telling me Jess here was deployed before you were?" Harry asked from his seat on the furthest end of the table.

"Well, I wouldn't call it deployed in the traditional sense. From what I understand they weren't working with a formal military organisation yet at that stage. Right?" David asked, looking to her then to Alex and Clark.

She glanced at the two men, Clark at on her right and Alex sitting across from David. They both gave her a small nod, happy to let her fill in the blanks. Well, those she was allowed to fill in.

"A lot of what we did involved working closely with local resistance movements. First in Holland and then in France mostly. Right when everything started, that was where we spent most of our time," she elaborated.

She'd been looking at Harry, answering his question, but from the corner of her eye she noticed Richard shift in his seat, leaning slightly forward when she spoke. He was sitting directly opposite her, so she turned her head to face him, waiting to see if he had a follow up question.

Richard seemed about to say something when Ron asked, "You've only worked in Europe then?"

Looking away from Richard to where Ron was casually leaning back in his stolen chair, cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other she replied, " None of us would exactly blend in in Japan."

He nodded and took a long drag of his cigarette, his deep brown eyes daring her to look away first.

"At least you two get to see each other since you're both in Europe," Richard's deep voice pulled her eyes away from Ron so they would stare into his crystal blue eyes.

"Not as much as we'd like, but more than most siblings get I suppose," she answered.

God, must both these men have such gorgeous eyes? Why can't they be dull and boring, she thought, acutely aware of her pulse picking up speed with every passing minute in their company.

"Yeah, we've only ever seen each other twice when one of us was on active duty," David added, saving her from Richard's blue eyes as she turned her attention to her brother.

"Twice? Really?" Clark asked, and she could see him trying to do the math in his head.

She decided to put him out of his misery and said, "Yip, the airfield and the docks."

"Those sound like hell'a good stories if you ask me," Buck said, downing his beer and gesturing to the barman to bring them another round.

"Ummm…not really," she replied casually, but before she could say anything more David and Alex exclaimed, "Are you kidding me?"

"Wow boys, calm down. Fine, the airfield story is kind of fantastic."

"Oh, well now you have to tell us. And spare no details," Nixon said.

Looking around the table of men she could see they were all eager to hear the story, even those that had heard it before. Catching Ron's eye she saw him shift in his chair so he'd be able to hear her better, even though he tried to hide the move by casually lighting another cigarette.

"Very well. If you insist," she said with a dramatic flick of her hair over her shoulder.

"A few of us had to attend some fancy gala in London two nights before we were set to deploy for Europe again. David had recently arrived in England and I hadn't had a chance to see him yet, so when I was told in no uncertain terms that I had to attend the silly function I was less than pleased to say the least."

From the corner of her eye she saw David light two cigarettes and without saying anything she held out her hand as he placed on between her fingers. Shooting him a wink she took a drag before continuing. "Anyway, the whole night Arlene and I have to suffer through this old, sweaty man trying to grope us whenever his blonde mistress wasn't looking, while fake laughing our heads off at the politicians wives' terrible jokes. By the end of it I'd had enough and Arlene was five seconds away from snapping, so when we walked outside and found a beautiful Buick with the sweaty old man's initials for a license plate waiting for us, we did the only logical thing. We borrowed it."

The table chuckled, some of the men affectionately shaking their heads, not expecting anything less from the two of them.

David leaned forward, cigarette in one hand as he picked up where she'd left off. "Yeah, so there I was, drinking my early morning tea because the Brits refused to make coffee, when I hear one hell of a commotion go up outside the mess. I walk outside just in time to see two gorgeous women in ball gowns climb out of this beauty of a car. I'm still trying to figure out if I'd lost my marbles and was seeing things, when they both walked up to me and threw themselves into my arms."

She looked sideways at her brother. "We gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek."

He shrugged, clearly sticking to his version of events. "Whatever, after that I got coffee for breakfast every damn day."

"Now that is one hell of a story," Harry remarked as he placed his empty beer glass down on the table.

"Oh, that ain't even the best part," David said with a smirk.

"You're kidding me? Fuck, why am I not surprised when you're involved Jess," Nixon said.

She stuck out her tongue at him and he wiggled his bushy eyebrows at her, it was a little childish game they'd started to play early on in their arrival in England.

Buck, clearing his throat and looking at her expectantly finally made her give up the game. "So we end up losing track of time and when we finally realise how long we'd been there, there wasn't a snowflake's chance in hell of us making it to the airfield in time for our jump."

Richard held up a hand. "Wait, wait. Jump?"

"Yip, we were jumping back into Europe," she said casually as if it was the most normal thing in the world for two women to do.

"So, we weren't going to get there in time by road or rail, but plane, now that could work. We challenged some of the boys to a game of poker. One hand, winner takes all. If they win, they get to keep the car, if we win, they lend us a plane. Only a two seater, not a bomber or anything, we didn't want to be greedy."

"No, you wouldn't want that," Ron remarked.

She glanced over to see him casually leaning back against his chair, but the intensity in his eyes gave him away. She playfully narrowed her eyes at him, a smirk on her lips before going on with her story. "Anyway, long story short I beat them all spectacularly and they gave us a plane and two flight suits."

"Yeah, because her big brother had taught her how to play to win," David chimed in, placing a proud kiss on her cheek.

"Sure as hell did," she replied, messing up his hair before saying, "Arlene flew us out and we landed with time to spare at the other airfield."

"Also causing a bit of a stir I should add," Clark added his two cents.

"You expect nothing less from us."

"So what happened to the car?" Buck asked.

"Oh, well we sent an anonymous telegram to the sweaty man's secretary saying the RAF had found his car ditched by the wayside. The man was so grateful to them for reporting it he sent their base a few cases of beer and cartons of smokes. So everybody won!"

"Shit, now that's a story. So Arlene can fly huh?" Nixon asked before he downed the last bit of his drink.

Clark answered before she could. "We all can. You never know when you need to get yourself out of a jam, but Arlene and Alex are the best."

"So what was the second time?" Harry asked.

"Huh?" she replied, the three strong drinks she'd already had slowing her brain down a fraction.

"You said you've only ever seen each other twice when you weren't both on leave. What was the other time?" he clarified.

Her heart sank a little and she placed her almost empty glass down on the table. "Oh, well….that was a very different story."

"How? You steal a German submarine or something?" Nixon chimed in, oblivious to the change in her mood.

She glanced to David, Clark and Alex, all three men giving her their silent approval and support to tell the story.

Taking a deep breath as she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the table top, studying every vain and old stain she began. "No, not quite. Right at the start of the war our unit was been attached to the British Expeditioner Force in Europe, to act as a special operation unit of sorts. Everybody thought this war would be similar to the last, soldiers digging into trenches and staying there for months, if not years, on end. So when the Germans launched their attack we were caught off guard."

She stopped, using the pause to keep her emotions in check. "We kept fighting and falling back until about three hundred and something odd thousand soldiers ended up on the beach of Dunkirk."

She looked up to Ron, and he was no longer sitting back in his chair, the cocky grin that had been there all night was also gone, replaced with something she couldn't place. As quickly as she'd looked up she returned her attention to the table. "The Germans could have easily killed most of us and captured the rest, but they'd been given an order to halt, I guess to shore up their gains, which ended up giving us just enough time to escape and get back to England. Well, that and the French units who held the line, holding the German advance so the evacuation could take place. It took days for the beach to be evacuated, and we were some of the last to leave because the British company we'd been attached to was one of the last to leave."

She instinctively looked to David and he continued where she'd left off, his voice sombre. "I was already in England and my squadron had been assigned to provide air support to the troops on the beach. That mostly meant dogfights with the Germans who were strafing our boys and trying to stop their bombers from destroying the ships sent to save them. We were green and out gunned, but goddamnit we weren't going to stop fighting until they told us to."

She looked away from her brother and right into Richards intense gaze, his blue eyes shining hot. She held his gaze, unable to look away as David continued, "The thing is, I didn't officially know where Jess was, but I knew my sister would be in the middle of a fight, so she had to be on that damn beach. When the order finally came for us to stand down I knew the last boats that were making it in would be nearing the docks, so I hitched a ride and got myself down there."

He trailed off, running his finger across the rim of his beer glass. "Arlene was the first one I saw, she was alone, helping a medic and she didn't know where anyone else was. I kept looking, running like a man possessed from ship to med tent, every time I saw a head of blonde hair my heart would sink. Then finally, sitting curled up on the deck of an old fishing boat I found Jess. She was soaking wet, shaking like a leaf with blood and water mixing to form a little pool around her body."

"Blood?" Ron asked, his gravelly voice pulling her eyes away from Richard's.

"It wasn't all mine," she answered, but unable to look at him she leaned back in her chair, looking at a spot on the back wall.

"On the swim to the ship Germans strafed the water. I was with Alex and Gabriel, you never met him, having lost everyone else when we got into the water. We dove, hoping for God knows what I don't know. The bullet that hit me in my side had already passed clean through Gabriel's chest, so it didn't have enough speed to go very far and I was so cold and filled with adrenaline I didn't feel anything at the time. Alex and another soldier were able to get Gabriel onto the deck, but honestly I don't think he ever knew. I rested his head in my lap, so when David found me some of the blood was mine, but most belonged to Gabriel."

She felt a familiar hand press into her back, the pressure providing a support she desperately needed. "You know, I can still see you, sitting there on that boat. Fucking living nightmare for me every time," she heard David say, but all the could muster was a small smile.

"Shit," Harry said, his face having lost half of its colour.

She smirked darkly. "That was the prevailing sentiment, but it could have been a hell of a lot worse."

The men that had been there, survived it, nodded their heads.

With a deep breath she put on a fake smile, knowing that in time it would become genuine again. "I think that's enough depressing stories for one night. How 'bout another round, my treat?"

"I'll help you," Richards said as she got up.

She gave him a soft smile, this one heartfelt.

As they approached the bar the older gentleman working behind it caught her eye, glanced behind them to their table and started to busy himself getting another round ready for them.

We either drink too much or come here far too often.

Waiting for their drinks she leaned against the bar and turned her attention to Richard. She rarely got to spend time alone with him, it seemed one of them was always in the company of someone else when their paths crossed.

"I'm sorry," he said, a sadness clouding his blue eyes.

"For what?"

"For, I don't know, just that, that happened to you," he stammered, running his fingers through his rich red hair.

"Worse things have happened to people. And, I don't know. You live through it, you'll see. It becomes this memory you lock away to deal with later."

"How many memories have you had locked away?"

"Too many."

He clenched his jaw, his mouth set into a hard line.

She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to say what was on his mind.

With a sigh his features relaxed. "I wish I didn't have to put you and imminent danger into the same thought."

She felt the smile on the corner of her lips. "I feel the same way about you Richard. But don't worry too much about me, I'm difficult to kill."

He shot her a flat stare and she in return gave him a cheeky smile.

Suddenly his expression changed as a blush crept into his cheeks. "Umm…."

"Yes?" she asked, curious what had caused him to suddenly become shy.

"I was hoping to take you to the New Year's eve dance being held in town. I mean, if you don't already have a date, which I'm sure you do."

She pushed herself off the bar so their bodies were closer together. "No, no date. Until now that is. I'd love to go with you."

His face split into a huge smile and he looked so pleased she couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled up her chest.

"Here you go," the barman said, putting the final drinks down behind her.

Turning away from her companion she placed her money on the counter. "Thanks, keep the change."

The man wiped the money from the table as he gave her a friendly nod.

Just as she was about to take a few glasses a familiar, yet unexpected, face caught her eye as the soldier entered the bar, scanning the room for his friends.

"I'll meet you at the table," she said.

Richard followed her line of sight and gave her a quizzical look but didn't say anything, just giving her a nod.

"Joe?" she called him, making sure to stand in the middle of his path so he couldn't avoid her.

He tried to brush past her, but she fixed him with a look that had frozen more men to their spots than she could count. "I'd stop if I were you, before I make a scene."

He stopped, but only half turned to her, his arms crossed defensively over his chest.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be with Arlene."

He snarled, the anger rolling off of him in waves immediately triggering her fight or flight instincts. Which in her case meant fight each time.

"Oh, she had enough company. Three's a crowd so I decided to give it a skip."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"C'mon, drop the act. I saw her taking that pilot inside the house."

You got to be kidding me, she groaned internally.

Tilting her head in her brother's direction she asked, "You mean that pilot?"

He looked where she'd indicated and a deep frown set into his forehead.

"That's my brother. I'd sent him to ask Arlene to join us tonight and fetch my scarf. They've known each other for years."

Joe's jaw slackened and his brown eyes doubled in size. "Shit," he said under his breath.

She plastered a deadly smile on her face so as not to attract more attention from the room full of soldiers. "Oh, that does not even begin to cover it. Now, I warned you about hurting her so the only reason you're still breathing is because killing you here would constitute murder."

"I – I didn't know," he stammered, palms facing up as if pleading with her.

"No, you assumed. Which says a hell of a lot about what you think of Arlene's character."

"I," he started to say but she cut him off with one finger held in the air. "Save it for someone who cares, but that isn't me and it sure as hell won't be Arlene."

She fixed him with a cold stare before pushing past him, done with the conversation and with him.

Grabbing their drink on the way to the table she dropped them off with the men, putting her glass in-front of Nixon. "Sorry boys, I'm going to have to love and leave you."

"Everything okay?" Richards asked, his eyes darting behind her to where the Easy table was.

"Arlene's sick. I need to go check up on her."

"I'll walk you," David offered, already standing up.

She waved him off, Arlene wouldn't want him there and if he knew what happened it wouldn't be long before someone really did kill Joe. "That isn't necessary."

He grabbed his jacket, completely ignoring her. "It's going to happen so accept it. I'll drop you off and come back."

"Fine, I know a lost battle when I see one."

She turned to the rest of the table. "Merry Christmas gentlemen."

XXXXXXX

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Thank you so very much to everyone that came back to the story after my absence. I hope you all had a good week and a wonderful weekend ahead.