So apparently I wasn't grounded as long as I thought I was going to be. Hurray.

I just wanna say real quick that there might be a lot of flux with the details since this story is technically in the writing process and hasn't had any chance of being polished off or edited. To be honest, I'm still half at the drawing board. Bear with me and I promise I'll try to make it worth it. I haven't changed anything yet, but I'll tell you if and when I do.


"This is our stop. The barrack paths aren't made for jeeps, so I'll have to walk you from here." Lieutenant Coppola said as he parked the jeep in front of a long row of identical buildings. I nodded and jumped out of the vehicle, ignoring the looks I was beginning to get as I walked beside the lieutenant.

"Want me to take your bag, Ricci?" He asked after a few seconds, but I shook my head.

"No thank you, Lieutenant. I can manage." I said, giving him a tight smile.

"You can call me Steven, if you want." He offered with a bright grin.

"I don't think that would be appropriate, Lieutenant." I answered as politely as I could. That smile might work on all the other girls, but I wasn't here to wiped the smile off his face and nodded, seeming to understand quickly. Smart boy.

"Yeah, you're right. Alright, 13 is right up here. Hope you aren't superstitious," he told me with a more casual smile, and I allowed myself a wry smile.

"I'm a gypsy woman, Lieutenant. I'm very superstitious,"I replied, giving him a sardonic look before hefting my bag once more and turning to him. Thank you for showing me the way, but I think I can make it from here." I offered him my hand and he shook it with a firm grip.

"My pleasure, Ricci," he said, giving me one last grin. "Hopefully I'll see you around." And with that, he turned and began his walk back to the jeep. I watched him leave for a moment before spinning on my heel and looking at Barrack 13, adjusting my grip on my bag and reaching discreetly to touch my necklace where it dangled right at the top of my stomach on its long chain to ground myself. And with that, I stepped up to the barrack and inside.

Immediately, all eyes were on me and all conversation stopped. All the men who were looking at me blinked stupidly, and I saw one of them quickly smack the man beside him who wasn't paying attention, getting his attention and causing him to swing around and look at me with the same blank look.

"Anyone know where my bunk is?" I asked, tilting my head a little. Ten seconds and I was already exasperated with these men.

"Who are you?" A voice asked, sounding flirty, immediately followed by a much more harsh and blunt demand of "Who are you?"

I looked over at the two men sitting on a nearby bunk who had spoken and smiled patronizingly down at them.

"Private Aishe P. Ricci. I've been assigned to this barrack of this company of this battalion, so if you could point me to my bunk before I can die of old age and take the satisfaction from the Krauts that would be awesome," I said, working my jaw and trying not to grind my teeth. Mama always hated when I did that.

"No fuckin' way." The new voice had a thick accent I couldn't place, but I sighed and turned his way. He had shiny black hair, and when he stood up his underbite seemed to become more prominent somehow. No idea how that worked. "They let a fucking broad join the paratroopers? You do know we're jumpin' outta airplanes, right?" He asked, coming up towards me. Squaring my shoulders, I dropped my bag to the floor and stepped up to meet him balling my fists as my temper flared.

"I got a real clear idea of what I'll be doin' jackass, and if you got anything to say about it this broad'll punch you in the teeth so hard it'll make your underbite an overbite. Got me?" I snapped, not giving an inch as he moved to stand right in front of me. He glared at me for a moment and I matched him without a problem. And then he cracked a grin.

"Jesus Christ, girl afta me own heart," he laughed, swinging around to grin at the rest of the guys as he threw an arm over my shoulders. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him in confusion. What the fuck? "Come on, Ashy, your bunks right over 'ere next to mine," he was saying, dropping his arm from my shoulders to lead me over to where he had been sitting before. For a moment, I thought he was pulling my leg, but there was my regulation footlocker stamped with my name and all right at the foot of the next bed over. I sighed deeply but picked up my bag and made my way over.

"Aishe, jackass. Not Ash-y, Ay-she. If I'm gonna be stuck next to you, you might as well get it right," I told him, slinging my bag onto the flimsy mattress and thumping down next to it.

"Alright, fine. Aishe. Bill Guarnere," he offered, giving me his hand to shake. I took it but didn't return the grin.

"I think I'll stick with jackass. Suits you better," I told him and he grinned.

"Whatever you want, doll." He said and I glared at him again.

"Don't call me doll, jackass. I didn't get her by being pretty. You know my name and hopefully you're intelligent enough to use it." I told him and he raised his hands in surrender.

"Whateva." He said, picking back up the cards he'd dropped to walk over to me. "You play poker?"

I raised an eyebrow and looked at the four men he had been playing, and they all shrugged.

"Deal her in, Don," the one nearest me said with a wide smile. "Warren Muck. Call me Skip," he said, shaking my hand. "That's Don Malarkey as dealer." He gestured to the redhead to his left who nodded to me and handed me my cards. "That's George Luz," he pointed at the smiling man who had spoken to me first and was now grinning at me like a child, "and frowny over there is Joe Toye." The last man was the one who'd demanded my name upon my arrival. I raised an eyebrow as he continued to stare me down, but he finally sighed and looked back down at his cards.

"Whatever. She's still gotta throw in her ten to play," he grunted, but Luz jumped in before I could reply.

"I can cover her," he offered, grinning at me. I didn't return it as I fished my wallet out of my bag and threw a ten dollar bill into the pot on Guarnere's bunk. The boys all ooh'ed and laughed at Luz's slack-jawed expression.

"Better luck next time, Georgie," Guarnere laughed, but I shook my head.

"Maybe with another broad," I told him, cracking a grin as I fished a cigarette out of my pocket. "Anyone got a light?" Skip was the first to flick open a Zippo and held the flame steady for me to lean forward and light the cig. "Thanks, Skip. Now are we gonna play or are you guys gonna keep unsuccessfully trying to impress me?" I asked and they all grinned before Don started the game.

I wasn't expecting the men to accept me so quickly, and I could still feel a few people staring and glaring at my back, but I didn't need everyone to like me. Honestly, I didn't need any of them to like me, I only needed to get through training and this war.

"Bullshit. You're fucking cheating." I couldn't help but laugh as I took another drag from my third cigarette.

"No, Luz, you just suck at poker," I told him with a grin, but he was having none of it.

"No, I ain't. I was clearing these clowns out before you showed up. What gives?" His wide grin negated any possible hostility he could have had in his voice, which was barely possible in itself. He didn't seem the type to ever really get mad.

"Sweetheart, if I was cheating you'd never know it. I was raised a gypsy, I know my way around a deck of cards," I told him, smiling around the cigarette between my teeth.

"That's what it was," someone behind me said. I turned around to see a skinny kid stand up from a bunk across the room, stepping on his finished cigarette before walking over. "You're that gypsy that was on my bus from Frisco," he said, jabbing his finger at me. "That's why you look so familiar."

"Maybe I am, the hell's it to you?" I asked, squaring my jaw and shifting to face him.

"Hey, Ricci, just leave it," Muck said, smacking my arm lightly. "I'm sure Liebgott didn't mean anything by it. It's your turn anyway." I stared at the man for a beat longer before hugging and turning my back on him.

"Call," I grunted, throwing another two dollars into the pot.

"Verdammter Zigeuner."

I was on my feet in two seconds flat, with so much force the bunk screeched back and Skip was jostled onto the floor.

"Sag es mir ins Gesicht, Scheißkerl," I spat, stepping up to him. For a moment, he seemed shocked I'd spoken in German, but he shook it off and went back to glaring at me.

"Ich sagte, du bist ein gottverdammter Zigeuner, bist du auch taub?" He snapped, practically snarling at me.

"I'll show you a goddamn gypsy, you little shit. Fuckin'-" I barked, lunging for him and he made a move to do the same, but two men suddenly tackled him to the ground and I was wrapped up in a headlock, someone much taller than me holding me from behind with one arm around my neck just tight enough to be uncomfortable and the other wrapped all the way around my waist to pin my arms to my sides.

"Put me down, you fucking-" I snarled, but the arm around my throat tightened and I choked.

"You really think it's a good idea to be getting into petty fights on your first day, girly?" The man asked, and I recognized the gravelly timber as Toye, the man who'd demanded my identity upon my entrance, the man who'd apparently been the man to beat me to the bus to Toccoa from the train. I tried to jerk out of his hold once before taking a deep breath and relaxing. I didn't like it, but he was right. I couldn't be getting into fights over things like that. People weren't going to like me, whether it was because I was a gypsy or because I was a woman. Slowly, Toye relaxed his grip on me and I shook myself away from him.

"Thanks," I mumbled to him, kicking my bunk back into place and plopped back down onto it. I gave Skip a half-hearted look of apology but he waved me off and handed me back my cards.

"I didn't look at 'em. Now, if you're done being a hot-head maybe we can get back to me winning back my money?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood. I shook my head and attempted a laugh.

"In your dreams, knucklehead," I said, nudging him in the ribs and leaning forward on my knees, ignoring the sounds behind me of whats-his-name arguing with the men who'd tackled him down as hard as I could. I gave Toye another grateful look as Skip threw him money in the pot and he just nodded to me with a small smile.

There might be men like beanpole back there, but there were good men here too.


Verdammter Zigeuner = Damn gypsy

Sag es mir ins Gesicht, Scheißkerl = Say that to my face, fucker

Ich sagte, du bist ein gottverdammter Zigeuner, bist du auch taub? = I said you're a goddamn gypsy, are you deaf too?

*german has not been beta-ed, its only through google translate. I plan to have an actual German-speaker look it over later and I'll go back and fix it if its wrong when I do. Bear with me, I took Chinese in school.