Delayed!

That was the one word that no plane wanted to hear.

Delayed!

Due to cloud cover!

Belle could understand the importance of an accurate hit, especially with civilian structures all around this target, but it was still frustrating to be sitting on the tarmac ready to leave and then being told she had to wait some more!

Sighing, she signed off her radio and turned to her fleetmates.

"Hey girls, there's cloud cover over the target. We're delayed!"

There were moans and groans.

"Son of a bitch!" C-Cups swore, punching a fence.

"Hey girls, situation normal..." Windy City began and the rest joined in.

"All fucked up!"

...

"Okay Luke, let's take the time to double-double check everything."

Belle turned her attention to her two pilots as they went over their pre-flight again.

"Brakes."

"Set, they were set before... and they're still set..." Luke's snarky tone made Belle giggle which earned her a glare from Dennis.

"Intercoolers."

Luke paused as he tried to keep a lid on his temper. His harsh sounding "Check!" reply indicated he wasn't succeeding.

Belle tuned out from the succeeding argument as her bombardier climbed outside and started stroking her belly. Most planes were very picky about where they liked to be touched and only certain parts of their undercarriage were allowed by certain people. Belle trusted the man enough to mind himself. He knew where and where not to go. His attentions earned him deep-throated purrs from the aircraft as Belle's amber eyes closed. She became content with the world, settling deep into her landing gear. There was a poke at one which she promptly lifted up, responding to training. The move imbalanced her and she rolled on her side in the grass. And there was her bombardier, Val, standing there with his dark eyes dancing in amusement. She glared at him but it was half-hearted and he knew it. She could never be truly angry with him.

Val took advantage of her vulnerable position by resuming his attentions in earnest. The other planes just stared at her. For any plane but particularly bombers, exposing one's underbelly tended to be suicide and some were too new to understand how she could be so trusting. Even with her own crew. Others, like C-Cups and Windy City, had been here and while and seen Belle's unusual devotion to her men. They were all loyal, to their own crews before the rest of the Army Air Corps. But Belle took it to a whole new level and still managed to shock the fellow veteran planes. They politely looked away but Belle could still feel their shock waves rippling off her ampule. She didn't give a Messerschmidt's tail if they felt that way. She did what she liked!

Her entire crew assembled on the sidelines until Luke, in his typical brazen fashion, announced a new plan.

"Dogpile!" He shouted and dove head first into Belle's belly.

Well, the B-17 was so shocked she nearly hit him with her landing gear. Only her training and unwavering devotion to these men kept her from doing so. Instead, she pressed her muzzle to his head while giving him a stern eye that clearly said "Don't do that again."

He grinned, completely unrepentant but that was why she loved him. The rest of the group, with Dennis in the lead, joined their comrade on her belly and she pulled them all into a soft embrace. She held them in her landing gear and curled in on herself, pulling her wheels up to her chest as her head came forward. Unusually, her tail remained flat. Most aircraft would curl their tail inward when in such a position. It was an instinctive gesture to cover and protect, certain important components for the species. But doing so in this case would crush the men in her grip so she left it flat.

She could smell the blood from all the nosebleeds and heard at least 2 planes drop in a faint. Windy City had quite the nasty nose herself, despite her embarrassed attempts to hide it. Mother and Country was down for the count, sprawled on the ground beside C-Cups who was making no effort to hide her amusement at the rookie's behavior.

And Belle didn't care! This was a moment between her and her men and right then, the rest of the world could go fuck itself!

But of course someone had to ruin it and that someone was the base commander over his megaphone!

"GET UP AND ASSUME POSITIONS FOR TAKEOFF, THE LOT OF YOU!"

Belle instantly released her men, letting them clamber off before she wriggled about, digging a wingtip into the grass-concrete edge and using the leverage gained to flip her upright. She shook her head once to clear the stars from her vision before straightening up and giving a firm bark. Her "all aboard, we're flying" call. One by one they obeyed her command.

"I still can't believe you did that." whispered C-Cups.

"I still can't believe you're not used to it!" Belle replied, making no effort to curb the volume.

"Shhh!" hissed Windy City as she took position on the runway.

As the lead plane, she'd be the first to fly out. Belle was 6th in the line, but she would be third once they got in formation. If both Windy City and C-Cups were wounded or shot down, she'd be the one to take over. Belle had never been lead plane before and despite her prayers that she could one day lead, she renounced them all. For it would mean her two best friends would perish first.

One by one the planes took off, heading south for the channel where they would join up with 14 other squadrons of their brethren out of various locations along the British coast. 360 planes would be sent out to rain hell on Bremen, no one knew how many would return. If they would return at all. And no one knew the risks better than Belle, regardless of her admirable combat record. She'd seen planes get shot down right next to her, so close that pieces struck her frame. It was due to one such event that she was laid down for repairs instead of taking part in the last mission. The one in which Riddles Maybelles was lost on touchdown. Belle had witnessed the crash landing. Only one wheel extended, she never had a chance. So close, yet so far. And each time she made a miraculous escape, cheating death by a matter of feet, inches in one case, she wondered why it wasn't her number?

"Luft, god of the sky. You've never steered me wrong yet. Keep them safe. My comrades deserve to live. See them through. Please, see them through."

It was 50-50 on a good day with dieties. The war had taught her that prayers and missions could lead to a "into the fire" scenario. Given her extensive combat experience (she was the most senior plane present), she should've known better than to make such a request.