Disclaimers: all the usual apply
Chapter 18
Arlene POV
Arlene turned her face up to the sun, eyes softly closed, as the men's conversations hummed in the background.
They'd left Carentan with its dust and smoke and she instantly felt her chest expand as her lungs gulped up the cleaner air. Of course they were still in danger, and the signs off war were dotted around the French countryside, but she just felt better away from that town and its onslaught of emotions.
"Hey, Arlene," Luz's voice pulled her from her trance.
She dropped her face and twisted her neck so she could look at the man walking slightly behind her.
"Yip?"
"You ever been to Paris?"
"Hm, once."
"And?"
"And what?"
"Well, what's it like?"
She slowed her pace so she could fall in between Luz and Perconte. "Why do you ask?"
"I want to know the best places to go when we get there."
Her face scrunched up. "And when are you planning this little getaway exactly? Just so I can book it in my diary."
He shot her a flat stare and she heard Perconte snicker on her other side.
"C'mon, at this rate we'll be spending Christmas in Paris! You know, as a reward for taking Berlin."
A snort scratched the back of her throat. "It's always good to be optimistic. Maybe a bit overly in this case though."
Luz didn't reply, just kept looking at her expectantly.
"I was sent to Paris for work, so I didn't really enjoy the night life or anything. But it's a beautiful place, even at times of war, and there is a something unidentifiable in the air there. Christmas in Paris wouldn't be half bad."
He nodded as he mulled over her words. "Christmas in Paris," he mumbled almost dreamily to himself.
The smile just started pulling at the corners of her lips when she heard the familiar whine overhead. "Mortar!" she shouted just as the first shell landed.
A steady stream of gunfire and explosions assaulted their vulnerable position out in the open.
"Get to that hedgerow!" she shouted, shoving Luz in the direction of the natural barrier.
Arlene followed in the man's wake, running to the comparable safety of the hedgerow while keeping as low as possible. A shell hit close by, raining dirt and hot shrapnel down on her. She spat out the grime and kept moving.
She hit the hedgerow and suddenly she could see the German muzzle flashes. The enemy was entrenched in another hedgerow a few hundred yards from their position, across an open field.
She fell onto her stomach and opened fire, aiming for the shadows behind the flashes.
She fired round after round, until, like a wave retreating into the ocean, the fight died down.
Dropping her head she took a deep breath, trying to give her mind a moment to catch up to reality.
"Christmas in Paris," she mumbled, "Fuck."
XXXXXXX
After the initial contact had died down, they'd been ordered to dig in. Muddy foxholes dotted the hedgerow every few yards as the now constant rain turned everything to brown mush.
Jessica found her as night fell. Her friend was walking the line, checking in on every foxhole, even those that didn't house a single member of their team.
She fell into step with her best friend, glad to be up and out of the mud.
"Who's in your hole besides Guarnere?" Jessica asked.
"Parker and Joe."
"Hm."
Jessica had ordered them to split into pairs and scatter themselves amongst Easy. She'd purposefully put Alex as far away from herself as she could. Just in case.
Arlene bit her lower lip and glanced at the shorter woman. Most people wouldn't notice, but she recognised the tell-tale signs of stress on her friend. The muscles in her shoulders were constantly taught and her crystal blue eyes never remained still for long.
"You think Clark's dead?" she asked the question that had been burning in the back of her mind since Brecourt.
Jessica took a deep breath, pushing the air out through her nose. "Yes."
A lead ball settled in her stomach. She'd suspected it, but having her own fear confirmed felt like a punch to the gut. "He could still show up," she volunteered lamely, more for her own sake.
The blonde shook her head. "No, he won't."
"How do you know?"
"Same as you. We just do."
She sighed.
"How was Carentan?' she asked the first thing that came to mind.
"You know. Screaming, shooting, people getting blown up. Just another day at the office."
"I heard you ran into Ron."
Jessica turned her head to look at her. "Where did you hear that?'
"Luz. He gossips like you won't believe, which means he knows everything."
"Well, I didn't so much run into him as run across a street to help him. Which subsequently led to us having a bloody tiff in the middle of gunfight!"
She coughed out the giggle she was trying to suppress, earning her a glare from her friend.
"He probably just cares about your safety."
"Well, he sure as a funny way of showing it. Picking a fight after he practically ignored me when we'd met at Brecourt. Ass."
Even in the dark she could see the dangerous glint in Jessica's eyes and the way her mouth was set.
"So are you going to kill him or sleep with him? Or both?"
"I want to slap him, not undress him."
"If you say so."
This time Jessica shot her a look and she snapped her jaw shut with an audible click.
A few moments passed and she could feel the tension leave her friend's body. She was about to ask her about Richard when a shadow approached them.
Joe stepped out of the darkness, rifle in his hand and helmet pulled low to try and shield his face from the rain.
"Liebgott," Jessica greeted him.
"Ma'am."
"Are you heading back to your foxhole?"
He nodded.
"Good," Jessica said, before she turned her head to look at her, "I need to talk to Alex and he's right at the end of our line."
"Do you want me to come with?"
She saw Jessica's eyes flick to Joe who was intently watching their exchange. "No, it's fine. You should head back with Joe. Get some rest, if they don't come before then, we're attacking at 05:30."
"Right," she replied.
Jessica moved past Joe, sparing him a look which seemed to carry more meaning than a casual glance, but neither one said anything.
As soon as Jessica melted into the shadows the air between them grew heavy, forcing her heart to beat faster and her lungs to work harder. She tried to ignore the thumping in her chest, instead concentrating on keeping her face a pleasant mask. She didn't want him to see the uncertainty that was just beneath the surface.
Wordlessly she turned to head back to the foxhole they shared and he fell in next to her. She kept her eyes fixed on everything around her except him.
Joe cleared his throat like he was about to say something but instead there was just more silence.
This is ridiculous.
"Joe -," she started, but he cut her off, "Arlene -,"
They both looked over to the other one, shy smiles slowly spreading across their cheeks until she laughed and he rolled his eyes.
Her laughter slowly died down and the silence settled between them again. Wanting to say something before her courage abandoned her again she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You were an ass."
She felt his dark eyes look over to her before he turned them forward again. "You're going to have to be more specific than that."
"On Christmas. You were an ass for ditching me and for assuming the worst. That wasn't fair."
There was a beat of silence before he replied, "I know. But you left me alone in New York, that wasn't fair either."
Guilt twisted her face to mirror the feeling in her gut.
Joe took a deep breath next to her and she stole a look at him. His eyes were hooded and his face drawn, no trace of his ever present smirk to be found. He must have felt her looking at him, because his eyes moved to meet hers. She'd prepared herself for anger or resentment, and both were there, but another emotion clouded his eyes which she couldn't place, but it made her heart clench.
"Why did you leave?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She turned her face away from him, staring blankly into the darkness. Arlene's jaw worked as she chewed over her words, weighing up each possible answer and discarding them one after the other.
A shout ripped through her thoughts, rooting her feet in place. Another one followed, and soon the screams were tumbling over each other in quick succession.
Her legs moved before her brain had the chance to tell them to, throwing her body forward as she sprinted towards the screams. She didn't see Joe, but she heard him right behind her. His accelerated breathing and mumbled curses telling her he was there.
Where's the shooting? Shit, are they in our lines?
They broke through the foliage and she skidded to a halt, her feet almost slipping out from under her on the muddy ground.
Talbart was sitting against a tree, clutching his stomach as he screamed in pain and shock. But he wasn't being attacked by a German. No, a fellow trooper was stabbing him repeatedly with his bayonet, his own desperate cries mingling with Talbart's.
Joe pushed past her, jumping into the foxhole and pulling the soldier back. "What the fuck! It's Talbart!"
The man thrashed against Joe's arms.
She dropped to her knees in front of Talbart and pushed the poncho he was wearing out of the way. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted it looked like the German poncho he'd flaunted days earlier, but she filed that away for later.
"Tab, look at me," she said as her hands tried to find the source of the bleeding in the darkness.
"Fuck, it hurt," he moaned trough gritted teeth.
"I know, but I need you to look at me. Focus on my voice."
He stilled and his eyes settled on her face. They were filled with pain and fear, but they were clear and focused. "Good."
Joe landed next to her, the other soldier's hysterical babbling pushed to the back.
"Medic!" Joe shouted.
"There," she said to herself, her fingers finally finding a trickle of warm blood.
"Tab, this is going to hurt. I have to put pressure on the wound."
The young man nodded, his jaw locked tight as he braced himself for a new wave of pain.
"Joe, I think there's another wound an inch to the right. Can you find it?"
Joe's hands ran over his friend's soaked uniform. "Got it."
Talbart groaned against the pain, his fists balled at his sides so tightly she thought the bones were going to stick out.
Just as she filled her lungs with air to shout for a medic Eugene shoved in between the two of them, nearly knocking her over.
"Okay Talbart. I got you," he soothed, his Cajun accent thicker than usual.
Eugene started working on the wounds in a flurry of sulfa, bandages and soothing nothings.
He pushed her hand aside so he could work and she grabbed Talbart's clenched fist. As if on instinct he uncurled his fingers and grabbed her hand, squeezing so hard she thought she heard her knuckles crack.
"You're doing great. You will be fine," she said, hoping she wasn't lying.
"Yeah buddy, you're gonna have one hell of story to tell," Joe offered, his smirk back in place.
Talbart cracked a strained smile.
"Okay, let's move him," Eugene instructed, already moving so he could grab Talbert's feet.
She slung one arm over her shoulder and Joe did the same. Eugene waited until they looked at him before giving the silent signal to lift.
Talbart groaned, trying to swallow the scream.
"It's okay. You're okay," she hushed.
They carefully carried their friend through the mud, nearly slipping a few times but somehow managing to keep their footing. When they were away from the line she saw two shadows approach, carrying something between them.
The soldiers dropped the stretched on the ground and they carefully laid Talbart down.
The soldiers lifted their friend, doing their best to keep the stretcher stable to avoid jostling the injured man. Eugene squeezed her shoulder as he left with the men and then there was just silence.
She and Joe stood there, watching them fade away.
She wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline coursing through her veins that made her brave, but without looking at Joe she said, "I was scared to stay."
"What?"
Arlene moved so they were facing. "I left you alone in New York because I was scared. I'd been down that road once before and it very nearly killed me. So I ran. I used my unconventional circumstances as an excuse. But that's really what it was, an excuse."
Joe didn't move, she wasn't even sure he was breathing, he just stared at her. She tried not to cross her arms or shift her weight, she'd just sacrificed a part of her pride and wasn't going to give away any more.
Finally breaking the deafening silence he said, "I wasn't going to hurt you."
She'd been prepared for a lot of things, but that wasn't it. She very nearly barked a laugh but instead blurted, "You did."
Joe flinched.
"You stood me up Joe. You did hurt me. I opened up to you and you did hurt me."
"Arlene-,"
"No," she nearly shouted, cutting off whatever he was going to say. She took a step closer to him and lowered her voice. Her guilt from a moment before quickly dissipating, anger taking its place. "You told me you were going to be there, and you weren't. And why? Because you assumed I was screwing around."
He held up his hands in surrender, but she was too far gone now, the words were spilling from her lips with each inch she closed between them. "Yes, what I did was bad and shameful, but you. We'd shared New York and the day in the snow and you still left me. You didn't ask me, didn't try to say sorry. No, you allowed me to leave to go off to fucking war without speaking to me."
By the time she stopped they were mere inches apart. Her chest was rising and falling like she'd run a race, heart hammering against her ribs.
Joe didn't move, or even blink. His dark eyes held hers and his hands were balled into fists at his side like he was physically restraining himself.
"Here I am Joe. What now?" she asked, eyes narrowing in a challenge, for what she wasn't sure.
He took a deep breath and she saw his hand twitch.
Her heart stopped.
Joe took a step back and the tension that had held them in place vanished.
"I made a mistake," he said.
Her heart started beating again, painfully.
"I know I messed up in England. Every day you were gone I felt like I was slowly losing my mind. And I can tell you all the bullshit reasons, but they don't matter. Not really."
"They do matter," she whispered, her fight gone.
He shook his head. "Maybe, but why you're scared matters more."
They stood there, watching each other. She suddenly felt tired and sore, and she could feel a headache start to take shape behind her eyes.
She dropped her face and pinched her eyes closed for a second. Looking back up she straightened out. "We need to get back to our foxhole."
Arlene thought she recognised disappointment flash across his face, but it was gone before she could really place it. "Let's go," he said, already turning to leave.
Well, this isn't going to be an awkward night at all.
Nixon POV
Very soon he was going to start swearing out of frustration. With the exception of the quick chat he'd had with Jessica on the day of his arrival, they'd somehow managed to miss each other on every other occasion. Of course he wasn't expecting them to have a tea party, but surely he could spend five uninterrupted minutes with the woman he'd grown to care deeply for.
He was stalking the Easy line, trying his best to find her. Unsurprisingly she hadn't been in her foxhole, so he'd taken to walking the line in hopes of running into her.
He'd almost reached the end of the line and his patience when a familiar voice whispered, "Flash."
"Thunder," he replied, and then there she was, stepping out of the shadows like a figment.
"I've been looking for you everywhere. You're impossible to find, you know that?" he said.
Jessica's lips twitched into a small smile. "I missed you too Nix."
He pulled her into a fierce hug. "Shut-up kid."
She giggled against his chest, and it sounded so out of place that he shook his head.
Typical.
She pulled away from him and he reluctantly let her go. He wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, but after months spent worrying about her, he was sure he considered her family, a little sister he had to protect. Well, as much as she and the situation would allow.
"How was your assignment?" he asked.
She eyed him before shrugging. "Fine. Long. What do you know?"
"I got hold of a confidential memo saying two American agents were working in France. The timing was obvious. When I told Clark about it he didn't deny anything. Didn't confirm it either, but he didn't have to."
A flicker of pain stole across her face, but she quickly batted it away. "You know, you could get into trouble for reading confidential documents."
"They didn't make me an Intelligence Officer because I kept my nose out of everybody else's business."
When his friend didn't say anything more he sighed. "Well?"
"We did what we had to do, but I'm happy to be surrounded by friends again. Looking over your shoulder gets exhausting after a while."
"I'm glad you're back too. Even if it's just so I no longer have to watch Dick and Speirs fret like to grandmothers."
Her eyebrows formed into a deep V and she tilted her head to one side.
"Trust me kid, maybe fret wasn't the right word, but they were both annoying in their own special way. Dick was more uptight than usual and I swear Speirs became even more of an ass."
"Oh, I've noticed that last part."
This time it was his turn to frown. He didn't like the sound of that. He'd put Speirs' mood down to Jessica's sudden departure, but had assumed it would revert back once they met up again.
She waved it off. "There are Germans waiting just over there," she pointed in the general direction of the enemy, "ready to kill us. I'm not going to get my panties in a twist over Ronal Speirs not playing nice."
"Fine, but of he steps out of line you tell me."
She smiled. "Deal."
She started walking back down the line and he easily fell in next to her. For a few moments all he could hear was the surprisingly good German signing and the mud squelching beneath their boots.
"Have you heard anything about Clark or Meehan?" she asked, but the question sounded a little forlorn.
"No, we think their plane went down."
Her head dropped as she rubbed the back of her neck. Nixon reached for her hand, gently intertwining their fingers and squeezing it. She looked up, shooting him the ghost of smile.
"Don't worry Nix, it's nothing I didn't already know. Hope is just a fickle bitch that's all."
"Sorry kid. At least you're team has you to lead them."
"For now."
He tugged her hand and she looked over to him. The unspoken question was clear in the way he raised one bushy eyebrow.
"I have no illusions Nix. The military already have a hard enough time accepting Arlene and I as is, there's no chance they'd allow me to remain in-charge. Hell, even when I was second in command it was only because Clark had insisted."
He let go of his friend's hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He knew she was right, but he could already feel the frustration and anger start to simmer.
Jessica must have picked up on his not-so-subtle mood change, because she said, "It's okay Nix. We already have a plan in place."
He glanced over to her. Even in the dark she seemed older than she had the last time he'd seen her. "We?"
"I've spoken to Alex and then we spoke to the rest of the unit. Once we're off the line Alex and I will go see the powers that be. We'll try to convince them to promote Alex to Captain and put him in-charge. I'll become his second."
"He should be your second."
She shrugged. "Maybe, but there's no use in dwelling on it. I trust Alex and we'll work well together. We have an understanding. Besides, it's far better than having them bring in an outsider! We'll already need a few replacements as is, we don't need a new CO."
"And you're okay with this?"
"I want what's best for my people. Alex will be a great CO. Besides, I've learnt to pick my battles, and this isn't one I think I can win, so I'd rather not waste my energy on it."
She sounded resigned but unhappy. They both knew it wasn't fair, or right, but if he was honest he'd always doubted she'd be allowed to remain in-charge.
"It's still bull."
"Oh, now that it is."
He reached out to grab her shoulder, stopping them both. "I gotta head back."
Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. "We'll catch up tomorrow. I have a few months' worth of gossip to catch up on."
He feigned indignation. "And what makes you think I would be able to help with that?"
"As a wise man once said, you weren't chosen to be an intelligence Officer because you kept your nose out of everybody else's business."
He wiggled his eyebrows, earning him a smile and slap to the chest. With one arm he pulled Jessica into an embrace. "Be careful tomorrow kid."
"Careful's my middle name," he heard her muffled reply.
He snorted and he felt a soft pinch to his inner arm. "Hey!"
She laughed against his chest, a naughty little tinkle that brought a smile to his dirt covered face. Finally, reluctantly letting go of her he shot her a wink and turned to leave when she said, "Thanks for looking for me Nix."
He craned his neck so he could see her over his shoulder. "Any time kid."
Jessica POV
She was about to turn back to her foxhole when Nix's absence was replaced by a familiar voice. She tilted her head, trying to make out the words when she realised he was moving in her direction.
With the ease gained from years of experience she melted back into the shadows just as Ron appeared, another man trailing a little in his wake. She studied them, trying to figure out why Ron was here, this deep inside Easy lines, when a slither of moonlight lightened the other man's features.
She frowned, trying the place the wide eyes and pale skin.
Carentan's aid station. That's were last she'd seen the man miraculously regain his eyesight after a few words from Richard. He still looked scared, on the brink of hysteria, and she didn't think for a second Ron was helping his disposition.
Her curiosity got the better of her, and despite her better judgement, she silently followed the two men. Ron's pace was slow, and if his jaw hadn't been firmly set she would have said relaxed. Blithe, she thinks that was the other man's name, still struggled to keep up, almost tripping a few times. She flinched every time.
"You've got some nervous privates in your Company," Ron offered casually.
"We do, sir. Yeah, we do. I can vouch for that."
When the two men slowed she stopped, pressing herself against the nearest tree. She tilted her head so she could hear their conversation, even if she couldn't see them.
She heard a thud and assumed one of them, probably Blithe, had jumped into a foxhole.
"They just don't see how simple it is," Ron said.
"How simple what is, sir?"
"Just do what you have to do."
"Like you did on D-day, sir?"
She thought she heard Ron inhale sharply, but she couldn't be sure in the dark. She'd heard stories, about D-Day, but she'd learned not to listen to gossip. An easy lesson if you're usually the topic of discussion.
The lieutenant turned to leave when Blithe stopped him. The young man said the words fast, like he'd been holding them in for days and simply couldn't contain them for a moment longer. "Sir, when I landed on D-Day, I found myself in a ditch all by myself. I fell asleep. I think it was the air-sickness pills they gave us."
There was a pause and when Blithe spoke again it was measured, resigned. "When I woke up, I didn't really try to find my unit…to fight. I just – I just kind of stayed put."
"What's your name, trooper?" Ron asked.
"I'm Blithe, sir. Albert Blithe."
"You know why you hid in that ditch, Blithe?"
She sucked in her breath and felt the heat start to rise into her chest before creeping up her neck and settling on her cheeks. She knew from the tone of Ron's voice he wasn't about to give the man a pep talk.
"I was scared," the soldier offered.
She bit her lower lip to stop herself from intervening. Why, she didn't know, but she kept herself fixed to her hiding place.
"You hid in that ditch because you think there's still hope. But Blithe, the only hope you have is to accept the fact that you're already dead. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you'll be able to function as a soldier's supposed to function. Without mercy. Without compassion. Without remorse. All war depends upon it."
She had to consciously suppress the urge to barge in on the conversation and give the man a piece of her damn mind. Sure, he wasn't entirely wrong, but Blithe was already scared witless, he really didn't need to hear that.
Bastard.
There was silence and then she heard Ron move. She pressed herself deeper into the shadows and followed him with her eyes as he passed within arm's length of her. She followed him as he made his way back to Dog Company, allowing her anger to slowly fester with each step.
Just as he reached the end of the Easy line she quickened her pace, purposefully making us much of a noise as possible. When her boot snapped a twig he turned, rifle at the ready.
She stopped, crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him.
"Are you mad? I could have killed you," he said, slinging his rifle onto his shoulder as he marched towards her.
She held her ground, even when he was within a few inches of her. She didn't move, or flinch.
"You need to be more careful," Ron said.
"No, you should be. I've been following you since your little pep talk with Blithe. The only reason you know I'm here is because I wanted you to."
Doubt flitted over his handsome features. But it was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. "You were following me? Don't you have anything better to do?"
She suppressed the urge to shout, to ask him what he was playing at. She had years of training and experience in deception, this wasn't a game she was going to lose. "Actually, I was patrolling the Easy line, when I found you. Nowhere near Dog. Why is that? Nothing better to do? Or were you looking for someone?"
Ron cleared his throat, but his expression remained unchanged.
"Oh no, you were just looking for someone to give a rousing speech to. Very motivational by the way. But you should learn to read your audience better. I don't think Blithe was the target market for that particular brand of depressing."
He took one small step closer to her, so close she could feel the heat coming off of his body. She didn't move, just cocked her head to one side, casually awaiting his response.
"He's a soldier, he needed to hear it."
"That there is no hope?"
He smirked. "You don't agree with me? What would you have told him?"
"That everybody's scared, you push past it. Because that's the job."
"That's nice," he said, narrowing his eyes.
She moved forward so there faces were only a few inches apart. "Speirs, don't ever forget that while you were in basic training, I was killing men and watching them die. There is nothing you can tell me that I haven't seen or done. I know what it means to do what you have to. For the mission. For survival. For your own sanity."
His lips moved like he wanted to reply, but she didn't allow him. "No, I've done things and seen things I may never be able to reconcile with myself or God. But that does not give me the right to put that burden on another man. Now, I don't know what your problem is, but the next time we speak, it had best be civil, or it will be the last."
Without waiting for his reply she shifted her weight back and said. "Good night Lieutenant, I hope you found what you came looking for tonight. Because tomorrow might be too late."
And with that, she left him on the edge of the Easy line and disappeared into the dark again.
Ron POV
He wasn't sure how long he stood in that spot, somewhere between Easy and Dog. He could still feel her warm breath against his skin, the heat from her body radiating off of her even though her eyes had been cold. Jessica's words kept replaying over and over in his head like some unwanted recording.
I know what it means to do what you have to. For survival.
He flinched.
Tomorrow might be too late.
His stomach clenched and twisted.
Of course he'd wandered into the Easy lines because of her. He hadn't even realised it had happened until he was half way down their line and speaking to a group of soldiers, two of which belonged to her unit.
He wasn't sure what he'd meant to do, but this hadn't been it. She'd always been able to undermine his carefully constructed façade of cool indifference mixed with a healthy dose of intimidation. The emotions, the feeling of helplessness and desperation, that had threatened to overwhelm him when she'd left to go to war had brought the severity of the situation home for him.
In all his life he'd never been the type of man to lose his head over a woman, lose his control. And yet, here was, speechless in the dark, muddy French field. And a part of him hated her for it, but mostly he hated himself for allowing her to leave thinking he somehow didn't care for her.
You idiot.
With a frustrated growl he turned and crossed into the Dog line. He did his best to forget her, banish the uncomfortable feeling gnawing at his stomach, but every time he tried he saw her eyes. Those crystal blue eyes that always seemed to sparkle had been nearly grey, and cold as steel as she'd spoken to him. He knew she wasn't bluffing when she said he had one more chance to redeem himself.
Damn woman.
XXXXXXX
Hello! So excited to be back after the break. I feel well rested and amped for the last few months of 2017.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter and pretty soon we're going to be back in the middle of the action!
I love hearing from all of you and as always thank you for the continued support.
Have am awesome week.