Nixon - October - December 1944

Nixon returned from his weekend in Aldbourne eager to get back to his men and to see Emily again. His time in England had done little to recharge him. In fact, his time away only made him more restless. He spent the entire weekend imagining what Emily was doing, who she was with, and if she was safe.

He returned to 2nd battalion's camp late in the evening. There was little chance at getting a hot meal so Nixon resigned himself to a liquid dinner. He stopped by Winters' quarters to say hello and to refill his flask. Winters of course was reviewing papers by oil lamp.

"You already workin'?" He asked Winters.

Winters pursed her lips, "I've been back longer than you."

"Right," Nixon back down the stairs, "well don't work too hard."

"I won't," Winters sighed, "you going down to see the movie?"

"Eh," Nixon grimaced, "not in the mood."

"Alright."

Nixon wondered if Emily would be at the movie or in her room. It didn't hurt to pass by her quarters just to see where she was at. Nixon made his way down the stairs and around the corner to the little room where Emily was staying.

The door was open when Nixon approached so he tapped on the wooden frame with his flask. "Hello?" he peered inside.

"Lew!" Emily stood from where she was perched on a raggedy twin bed.

"I like what you've done with the place," Nixon stepped just inside the cramped room. Boxes were pressed against the walls causing the shoebox room to appear smaller than it already was.

Emily shrugged, "limited space ya know. I'm just lucky I got a private room."

"Right, well we couldn't have you starting a riot among the men."

Emily offered him a half-smile. "Care for a drink?" he held up his flask.

"Sure," Emily made room for him to sit on the bed. They sat side by side, backs against the wall. Nixon unscrewed the cap and handed the flask over to her.

"Thanks," she took a long drink before giving it back to him. "So," she said wiping her mouth, "how was England?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

"What do you want me to say? I'm happy to be back in combat?"

Emily didn't laugh or roll her eyes as she might've before. Her face was swollen with exhaustion, bags hung heavy under her eyes. Her gray-blue irises had lost some of their luster. Nixon cleared his throat, "what?" he asked.

"What?" Emily asked.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I'm just tired. It's hard to sleep here."

The not-so-distant memory of sporadic gunfire and the view of bloodied bodies popped into Nixon's mind. His skin crawled at the thought. A feeling of discomfort settled over him that he tried to shake off with another drink of whiskey. "Yeah I know that, but what else is wrong?"

Nixon could see the unspoken words etched across her face, just like he always could when she was holding something back. He had spent over a year bickering with her, learning the smallest distinctions between her expressions, and gauging her mood every time she walked in the room. There were few people he felt he knew better. And she knew him.

"I didn't realize you were still in touch with that Evangelina," Emily said quietly.

"Oh," Nixon said, "yeah."

"You must like her a lot to go all the way back to England."

Nixon stared down at the metal flask in his lap. He shrugged, "I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Mm," Emily murmured.

"Does that bother you?" Maybe he shouldn't be hopeful, but a little part of Nixon wanted to see that she was jealous of his former lover.

Emily quickly shook her head, "no, I just didn't realize." She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

Nixon took the chance to admire her. Despite her apparent fatigue she still wore red lipstick. It made him smile to think that it was the tube he gave her that kept her signature look going. That had been a great buy, Nixon thought to himself. Her lips were too perfect not to wear lipstick every moment of the day. They deserved all the attention the vibrant color drew.

Without opening her eyes Emily said, "I can feel you staring at me, Nix."

Nixon would have laughed if his heart didn't feel so heavy. There was no denying it, he had fallen totally and completely in love with this woman. Who would have thought the woman he had so underestimated would ultimately become the most powerful force in his life.

"Emily," his voice was barely a whisper.

She raised her lids only slightly, "what?"

Nixon was feeling warm from the whiskey. It had a stronger effect on him without any food in his stomach. He slid his hand over one of hers and her eyes grew wider.

"Em, I - please may I kiss you?"

He didn't take time to register her expression because as soon as she nodded he was leaning forward, drawn to her like a magnet desperate to connect with its counterpart.

The kiss began slowly then crescendoed into something deeper, more passionate. Her lips were softer than he had imagined. Nixon brought his hand up to her jaw as they leaned further into each other, exploring each other's mouths with a curious yearning that had been growing since they met.

Suddenly there was a loud rap on the doorframe and the couple jumped apart. Larkin appeared, "Captain Nixon, sir? You're needed."

Nixon cursed to himself. He stood stiffly and shoved his flask into his utility belt. He didn't dare look back at Emily afraid of what her face may reveal. Nixon stalked out into the hallway, the S-1 following close on his heels.

"Um sir," the young man tried to say.

"What?" Nixon snapped.

"You've got- um lipstick is-,"

Nixon wiped at his face then whirled on the S-1. "Larkin, you didn't see anything right?" It wasn't a question.

"No, sir," Larkin responded politely.

"Good man."

The command room was a whirlwind of motion. "Captain Nixon!" Colonel Sink called him over as soon as he spotted him, "welcome back."

"Thanks," Nixon said tentatively, "what's going on?"

"The German's panzers have broken through the Ardenne forest. Reinforcements are needed immediately. We're moving out."

The previously sleepy camp was suddenly full of life. Trucks were stacked with soldiers and supplies. Everywhere officers were barking orders to their subordinates. Nixon instructed the available intelligence staff to pack everything up to go with the command post transport. There was no saying what their circumstances would look like once they got to the front line. The distance between command and the men who made up the battalion was unpredictable.

"Lewis," Emily appeared out of the chaos.

"Emily, we're moving out."

"I know. Lewis, I need to talk to you."

"Look, Emily, I don't have time for this," Nixon moved to walk past her.

"No!" Emily stood in his way, "Lewis you make time for this! You have to talk to me! Who knows when we'll have another fucking chance."

Nixon looked at her in shock. She had never spoken to him so forcefully, it stopped him in his tracks. "Okay, what?"

"Are you leaving your wife?" Emily asked bluntly.

"What?" Nixon looked at her like she was crazy.

"Are you leaving your wife?" she repeated.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You went back to Aldbourne," Emily said, "you must be pretty serious about that girl. Then you kiss me so you must be leaving your wife. Is Evangelina gonna be your new wife, and am I gonna be your new mistress? Is that how it's gonna work?" she demanded.

Nixon had never seen her like this.

"I'm so tired of being a second choice Lewis, leave me the hell out of it!"

Nixon's annoyance at her timing immediately evaporated and was replaced by panic. "Emily that's not what it's like," he said quickly.

"Why did you kiss me, Lewis? What was that all about?" she gestured angrily towards the building they had just come from. The heat coming from her words turned the cold air into steam.

"Emily, I -, Evangelina and I are over. She means nothing to me."

"Then what do I mean to you? If you can cast her aside so easily."

Everything was crumbling in Nixon's hands. He desperately wanted to hold it together. He wanted to slip back into that moment where their lips had met and nothing else mattered, but he could feel it all falling to pieces right in front of him. He had to say something, he had to do something because she was right, they may not have another chance.

"Emily, I don't love Evangelina."

Emily's stared him down fiercely, daring him to continue.

"I love you."

Seconds and then what felt like minutes passed as Nixon's heartbeat rose to beat in his ears. The sound of his blood rushing through his veins silenced the din of men working all around him. The dark world narrowed to only fit their unbroken gaze. She raised her hand to his face. He flinched, worried she was going to slap him. Instead, her palm made contact with his cheek and stayed there. Her touch was warm. The panic rose again in him knowing that he had to leave her within the next moment. He had no intelligence on what was to come next. He had no idea when he would see her again and that reality was unbearable.

"You stay alive, Lewis Nixon," her steel-gray eyes bore straight into his soul, "you stay alive until I see you again."