Disclaimer: Don't own Blackadder, Nurse Mary or George
Author's Note: Little something I wrote after re-watching "Goodbyeeee", just a oneshot to help cure writer's block in a WIP
Her swindled black hair blew in the wind amongst the red posies that grew in the field, just outside Munich. He walked beside her, her tiny little hand caught between his weary fingers.
"George?" She muttered, looking up with her big brown eyes to meet his soft blue eyes.
"Yes, my dear?"
"This was where Daddy Cappin died, wasn't it?"
George gazed at his dead friend's daughter with the deepest sympathy. The war had ended, his fallen comrades lay dead underneath the ground he should have died on, he was the only survivor from Captain Blackadder's trench in the Big Push. His leg had taken the bullets that should have killed him but yet, he still lived on to meet the sun's light when his chums didn't.
After spending the long months in a German hospital with only General Melchett to grieve with, he found the lovely Nurse Mary Fletcher-Brown again, this time bearing a young child in her arms.
"She belongs to Blackadder," she whispered in his ear when he held his friends daughter, Elizabeth in his arms.
After re-uniting with his former carer they remained close friends, George was like a father to Elizabeth. He and Mary were engaged to be married until she suddenly died after a sharp heart attack from all her smoking. George never really knew anything about her short relationship with his captain, but in the end, all he left was this little piece of history to keep as his own for the rest of his life.
Elizabeth was the spitting image of old Blackadder, her deep conflicting eyes, her brazen black hair and that pale look about her, even when she was in the best of health. So as she looked with bottomless eyes at the older man who stood beside her, he never thought he would need to answer this question, or at least until she was a woman and could understand. He couldn't really remember why he had come back to Germany after these years had gone by, but he was there and all he had were the memories and
"Well, yes my darling," he spoke with calm words and gave her a tiny smile, trying to hide his deep sorrows by picking a single posy and tucking it neatly behind her petite ear, "but he died saving old Blighty which we love so much don't we. We'll talk about it more when you're older. Okay, my love?"
She gave him that infamous smile that ran through every Blackadder one time or another, "Yes, Georgie," and let herself be collected into the weary man's arms before heading back to their little car which sat neatly beside the road.
George was one of those men who couldn't be rude to a lady, never lie to them, just as he could never betray his friend's daughter. All he could offer her now was his love and all that he ever had.