Glossary:
In this chapter, references are made to the different boroughs of New York City: Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, etc. B&T refers to "Bridge and Tunnel" - or how people get into the heart of the city. There's a friendly rivalry among the boroughs and each one thinks it's the best (Manhattan, since it doesn't have to take a bridge or tunnel to get into town is the best, Brooklyn is the toughest, so it's the best, and so on). Disclaimer: I am not a real New Yorker, but I did my research. In the event that any of the references I make aren't correct, allow me to suspend your belief for the sake of the story.
Queenie started awake. The overcast sky threw off her perception of time, so she didn't know how long she'd been asleep. After the late night, she had taken off the first watch over the patients, so she could sleep late.
"Queenie? Oh, good. You're awake. Come on! They're arriving." Majorie peered in and grinned at her.
"Who is? And what time is it?" Queenie sat up and rubbed her eyes. Majorie ducked in, and closed the tent to help her dress.
"Two in the afternoon, darling. I can't wait, I'm so excited. I'm sure the fellas are too. They don't see many girls out here, and those that they do are strictly off limits. You know, because we're nurses and all."
"Excited for what?" Queenie asked, confused. Her mind churned as she shook off sleep, getting into gear. Queenie repinned her bun, but let the wispies frame her face as she stuck on her cap.
"The USO show! It's Captain America! Molly's been telling me about it."
"Oh yeah, the USO show. But who's Captain America? Why does your sister know him? Isn't she supposed to be doing the cadet nursing program?" I suppose I'm not as awake as I thought, if I still have so many questions, Queenie thought wryly.
"She is," Majorie said with a heavy sigh. "Lordy, I see I have to absolutely explain it to you. You're no fun when you're sleepy, you know that? Get you some coffee before the show. Oh, and you remember Agnes, right?"
"Agnes… Agnes… Agnes Johnson from Manhattan?" Queenie's mind summoned an image of a blonde showgirl who never seemed to stop dancing, a friend from Queenie's schooldays.
"That's the one! She's in the show!"
"Oh, really? That's great! She'll have all the home news!" Queenie said excitedly.
"And I'm hoping for some letters and things from home too!"
Together, the two dashed out into the day. Several trucks around a newly thrown up stage indicated the cast's location, and Majorie dragged Queenie that way.
"Majorie, we've got to check in with the captain. We can't just go gallivanting to find Agnes!" Queenie protested half-heartedly but allowed herself to be pulled by her friend. Majorie's indomitable good spirits were beginning to rub off on her as Queenie's drowsiness finally wore off.
"Queensie, you and I worked our damn asses off last night. We deserve this bit of fun as much as anyone, dammit!"
"Majorie Whipple, such language! What would your mother say?" Queenie teased.
"Something I'd promptly disregard," Majorie replied cheerfully.
Queenie rolled her eyes but grinned as the two headed for the tent behind the stage. Girls were going in and out of the tent, and a flash of bright blonde hair caught their attention.
"You're better at it than me," Majorie said and winked at Queenie.
In response, Queenie let out a piercing New York whistle that had many people around them freezing. Queenie's whistle was a well known tactic for getting attention to put idle hands to work and as such, was met with fear and instant obedience.
"Hey, Manhattan! Don't you know you live in a dump?" Queenie called. The men from the camp, seeing they weren't about to be ordered to do something, scattered quickly to keep it that way, everyone returning to their tasks. But Queenie focused on the blonde, as the showgirl backed out of the doorway and turned toward them, a huge grin splitting her face.
"At least we're real New Yorkers, Queens," Agnes replied.
"Listen here, we Brooklyners are real New Yorkers too. And we're tougher than you," Majorie interjected, as the three met up.
"Pl-ease, you're both B&Ts. But the only thing that matters," Agnes began.
"Is that we're all better than the Bronx!" they all finished together, then promptly burst into giggles. Queenie noticed a tall, well muscled man looking out from the stage tent smirk at their exchange.
"How ya doing, Manhattan?" Queenie hugged the girl tightly. Majorie hugged Agnes next as the girl responded.
"Same ol', same ol'. Got me an acting gig. Told you I would."
"I can see. Congratulations, honey!" Queenie laughed. When she glanced back at the tent, the man was gone.
"Agnes, Queenie doesn't know who Captain America is," Majorie stated, as if it was the greatest sin Queenie had ever committed. Agnes turned to her with a gasp.
"Are you serious?"
"Agnes, honey, look around you! I'm an LT in the ANC. Do you really think I've got the time for keeping up with everything Stateside?"
"I guess that's fair. But come with me." Agnes linked arms with the two and started walking toward the stage tent. "Anyways, LT, huh?"
"Yeah, she got promoted in France! Our girl is growing up!" Majorie crowed proudly.
"Jeez, Majorie, what are you, my mother?"
"She's just pleased as pie about you, and who wouldn't be? You're a saint, a heroine, a -"
"I'm an Army Nurse. I do my job," Queenie rolled her eyes, as Agnes pulled them to a stop outside the tent.
"You save lives, Queens. But come on, I didn't drag you back here to praise you. You have to meet Captain America!" Agnes trilled. At that moment, the man from earlier stepped out, in a red, white and blue costume, holding a helmet.
"Speak of the devil!" Agnes smiled winningly. "Captain Rogers, please meet my dear friends and absolute angels from heaven, Queenie and Majorie."
"Ladies," the captain nodded at them with a smile. "I'm Steve Rogers." His blue eyes twinkled at them, and Queenie was reminded strongly of a golden retriever, happily making new friends.
"Nice to meet you, Captain," Queenie answered, reaching out to shake his hand, Majorie following suit. Just then, another girl poked her head out of the tent.
"Agnes! Come on! It's call time, and you're not even in costume!" the other showgirl fussed, and Agnes grimaced good-naturedly.
"Oh, drat. Listen, girls, I'll catch you after the show. We've got lots to talk about! Make sure you get good seats for the show! I'm on stage left!" With that, Agnes grinned and followed the girl inside the tent.
"So, Captain, we don't want to keep you, but I couldn't help but notice that you heard us teasing," Queenie said with a smile.
"Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I don't normally eavesdrop." The captain rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, somewhat bashfully.
"Oh, it's all right, I'm sure you also don't normally hear a New York taxi whistle in Italy," Majorie quipped.
"It was also especially ironic for me. I'm from Brooklyn," Rogers laughed.
"My people!" Majorie squealed, causing both of her companions to wince a bit. "Oh, I knew I liked you! Say, you're free later, aren't you?" She flicked her eyes up and down his form admiringly.
"He might be, but you're not, second lieutenant. You've got duty tonight, remember?" Queenie looked at her pointedly.
"You would pull rank!" Majorie accused.
"Of course, darling." Queenie smirked. "Now Captain, it was great to meet you, and break a leg out there." She began herding Majorie toward the hospital tent.
"Thank you," he looked at her bars, "LT. Like Agnes said, get good seats!"
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'
Queenie stayed through the girls' songs, but when it became just Captain Rogers on the stage, she turned to Majorie. "I'm going to look in on the patients and then check in with Lee. I'll probably go take a nap after that. I'm still wiped."
"Of course, dear. You do look exhausted. I'll wake you when Agnes gets free to talk. They've got another show this evening."
Queenie nodded, and made her way to the hospital, as the crowd started calling for the girls to return. But she pushed that from her mind as she entered the first of the hospital tents, where work awaited her. Queenie quietly redressed wounds, administered water and morphine, and reported the supplies inventory to the captain before being dismissed for the evening. As she left after making her rounds, it began to rain heavily, and she ran back to her tent for her nap. However, movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she wondered vaguely what Agent Carter was doing, getting into a truck with Captain America. The woman had a light shining in her eyes and she moved with purpose. Queenie quickly dismissed her thoughts, as the call of a dry, warm bed pulled her away.
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'
"Queenie!" Agnes greeted her, as Majorie and Agnes entered the tent where Queenie was brushing out her hair.
"Great show, honey! You were amazing! Listen, whichever guy caught your eye, just describe him, and we'll tell you if he's good enough for you," Queenie laughed as she hugged the blonde.
"Especially after the guys got an eyeful of your gorgeous hair," Majorie added. At Queenie's questioning look, Agnes explained,
"I couldn't find my helmet. Listen, let's get all caught up on the news first, then we can talk GIs." Agnes pulled up a package and the three sat on the bed as she opened it.
"For Majorie, from your family." Majorie took the box as Agnes pulled out a stack of letters for Queenie.
"Uh, girls, hang on. I've got to say something about Queenie's family, and if I don't say it now, I never will. So Queenie, honey," Agnes turned to the girl and took her hands. "It's your ma."
"Her heart?" Queenie whispered, freezing. Agnes nodded slowly.
"Oh, sweetie," Majorie sympathized, dropping her box and sitting by Queenie, rubbing the other girl's arms.
"Queenie, I'm so sorry, but your ma… your mother has passed away, darling," Agnes said gently, squeezing Queenie's hands.
Queenie felt like she was falling and couldn't orient herself. The world seemed to spin away and yet the walls were pressing in. Prickling at the corner of her eyes made her anxious and she sucked in a sharp breath. I have to be strong, strong for Majorie, and strong for my patients. I can't afford to collapse now. But this burden on my soul… it makes me so exhausted! Queenie brought her fingers to her eyes, swiping away the hot tears before they fell as she struggled to keep control of herself.
"It's- it's ok. Ma and I knew this would come. Ever since Dad left, we understood our dynamic duo would close up shop someday," Queenie said slowly, taking deep breaths. "And I've been away so long… I wish I could've been there at the end…" Queenie swallowed hard, eyes distant as she recalled everything her mother told her before Queenie shipped out, "But she told me not to worry about her. She said that this work is so important, and it is, but… it still hurts, you know? To not have been by her side. I suppose part of me knew this would happen. I told her to quit smoking a whole pack a day. I'm not against cigarettes, everyone smokes, but Ma always did go above and beyond everything, didn't she?" Queenie finished finally with a soft smile of remembrance. Agnes and Majorie exchanged a look, sympathy etched in every line.
"Well, doll, I've got letters she wrote right up until she died. She wanted you to have as many as she could write or have written for her. Said you've got no one else to write you now, and that she wanted to make sure you had plenty," Agnes told her quietly. Majorie kept massaging Queenie's arms soothingly. A lump rose in Queenie's throat as she thought about her mother possibly suffering, being alone in a hospital… Queenie's throat closed up.
"How long was she in the hospital?" Queenie managed to ask.
"Let's see, her heart attack was Thursday, but she died Monday, so… four days. I took my mother to see her too, and I heard your mom did as well, Majorie, along with most of the brood, except your sister. Molly couldn't get away from school," Agnes answered, stroking her thumbs over Queenie's hands, brow furrowed in empathy.
"Well, at least she wasn't alone," Queenie said gratefully. For a while, nobody said anything, although Majorie and Agnes made no move to take their attention from Queenie. Queenie focused on breathing steadily to push back the threat of tears. Being far away from home makes everything seem so far from me. And I'll never see Ma again. A headache began to throb behind her temples from the struggle to maintain her control.
Queenie finally looked up at the two of them. "Majorie, go ahead and open your package. Agnes, tell her all the news and gossip she wants. She's been dying for it, I know. But would you mind terribly doing it somewhere else?"
"Of course not, dear. But are you sure?" Majorie stopped holding Queenie's arms and turned to look her in the eyes.
"Yes, I'm sure. I just want to sleep now. It's been a crazy twenty-four hours. I'd like to be alone to process all… this. I'll get the news from you or Agnes later," Queenie ended in a whisper, afraid to speak any louder for fear the tears would come against her will. Majorie and Agnes nodded sympathetically, kissed her cheek, and filed out of the tent. "And girls?" Queenie called, whereupon two heads popped back in. Queenie managed a smile. "Enjoy yourselves. Don't worry on my account." They smiled in response and left. Queenie laid down on top of her blanket, overcome. She was just so very tired. The tears she'd been hiding from her friends came at last, growing from a slow trickle to a quiet sobs as Queenie cried herself to sleep.
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'
Several days passed before Queenie felt better. On the second day after that, she woke refreshed and fairly chipper once more, despite word spreading that Captain Rogers had been missing for a few days now. She dressed quickly, meaning to go swing by the hospital before grabbing food, and hummed as she went, causing Majorie to groan.
"Hangover headache?" Queenie asked sympathetically. Last night had been the last night of the USO show, for even though they wanted to wait for news of the Captain, Phillips had told them they'd be better served completing their tour without him. So the girls performed one last show and the fellows had a bit of a party for them, but they were due to leave early this morning. Majorie, needless to say, enjoyed herself as thoroughly as she always did, while Queenie remained more reserved, but no less enthusiastic about spending time with Agnes before she left.
"Just a bit of one," murmured the other girl sleepily. "I'll feel better sss….."
Queenie chuckled as Majorie went back to sleep. Queenie ducked out of the tent, adjusting her cap, and headed for the hospital. It must have rained sometime in the last few hours, because the air had that clean, damp smell and the earth squelched softly under her shoes. Queenie inhaled a deep breath of it and smiled as she entered the hospital tent. Some moans of pain softly peppered the quiet room, but Freeman found her with his eyes, and his face lit up.
"Queens! Hiya, doll! Where ya been?"
"Avoiding you, of course. Can't a girl get any peace and quiet?" she teased, making her way to him.
"Not when she's as pretty a broad as you," he rejoined, and the two continued their banter as Queenie inspected his bandage and those of the men around him quickly. Yes, she missed her Ma, but her work was fulfilling and doing what she loved helped ease the ache.
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'
It was midmorning, nearly lunchtime, when she finished the rounds among the injured and headed out with a jaunty wave to Freeman. She meant to go find Majorie when a commotion near the entrance of the camp - the Germany side - caught her attention. She heard a deep rumble, the kind that signified tanks, and she was quick to grab a first aid kit and run that direction. Soldiers were gathering, alarm on their faces, when she saw Peggy and Colonel Phillips nearby and she made her way toward them. She stopped by the colonel as shock ran through the crowd to see Captain Rogers leading a long line of ragged soldiers, some of which were hanging off the side of a tank unlike any she'd ever seen before. As Peggy made her way toward Captain Rogers, that light once more in her eyes, Queenie turned to the colonel.
"What just happened?"
"Captain Rogers just liberated what looks like over 400 POWs from a German facility," he answered in a daze. But he shook himself and grabbed a nearby soldier. "Go run and tell the medics that they need to get ready for more wounded." He eyed Queenie, who made no effort to move, instead scanning the line of POWs. "I'll let you have your way, then, LT."
"That would be lovely, Colonel," Queenie grinned, still focused on analyzing how she'd proceed with the wounded.
"Hey! Let's hear it for Captain America," a dark-haired soldier called from his place by Captain Rogers' side. As the men around them cheered, Queenie began to push her way forward. The colonel helped by going in front of her, and soldiers peeled back from them.
"These guys need medical attention!" Captain Rogers called, as the cheers died down.
"I'm here. I need everyone not a former POW to stand back or get put to work," Queenie called back, and that quickly cleared the space. Captain Rogers chuckled at the sight of her.
"You should've whistled," he joked.
"Would you have come a-running?" she teased back. Her hands on her hips, she leaned around the big soldier to peer at the long line behind him.
"In all seriousness, LT, if you could look at Buck here first…" Captain Rogers continued causing her to turn back to face him.
"Steve-" the soldier beside him groaned. A small part of Queenie's mind took significant note of the broad shoulders, sharp jawline, and merry brown eyes of the man, but Queenie stuffed that thought away. Right now, injured men needed her help.
"Captain, you're from Brooklyn, we're practically neighbors. You'll call me Queens or Queenie like everyone else. And if your pal here can stand helping me a bit, I'll get these troops shipshape in a jiffy," she answered, then turned to the woman standing next to them. "Peggy, lovely to see you dear, but if you're not helping, you're in the way, and judging from you and the good colonel here, you two need a report from our own Captain America. So off you three pop, and leave me to my work."
"You can't give me orders, LT," Phillips reminded mildly.
"Begging your pardon, sir, but would you like to sort this lot out?" The Colonel raised an eyebrow and adamantly shook his head. "That's what I thought." Queenie smirked. With a wink, she sent the three off to the Colonel's headquarters and turned back to the dark-haired man, whose eyes pierced her to her very soul. "What's your name, soldier?"
"Sergeant Bucky Barnes, LT," Bucky grinned at her, and that small part of her brain informed her that his smile was inside-melting. "And I'm from Brooklyn too."
"Well, Brooklyn, we've got work to do." Queenie smiled back, looking around for Majorie, she'd have reported to the hospital by now… and there she was, facing the door. Queenie once more gave her taxi whistle, and Majorie's head shot up with a blinding smile, the POWs startling at the noise. Majorie saluted her and Queenie nodded in response. She turned to the men, and began to call them forward, her purposefulness reasserting itself over her awareness of the sergeant at her side.