A/N: This, yet again, took a lot longer than expected. This is a bit of a filler chapter than anything else, which explains why I'm not entirely satisfied with it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.
I do not own Band of Brothers. Lyrics by PJ Harvey

IX. One Line

I'm watching from the wall
As in the streets we fight
This world all gone to war
All I need is you tonight

Cora hurried off into the Parisian darkness toward her hotel. She pulled her jacket tighter around her as she walked to try and keep some of the heat in, especially since her body was suddenly giving off an abundance of it. Her cheeks burned, tingeing them the same shade as a ripe tomato. Something had happened with Richard, something she couldn't explain. It was something that she had never felt before. The butterflies in her stomach, the thoughts that raced through her head, the way that she willingly let him almost kiss her… if being with Sobel had been harmful to her career in the armed forces, starting something so strong with Captain Winters would have been fatal.

The bellhop stood, in uniform, in the lobby of the hotel with her bag in hand. Cora could tell by his impatient expression that he had been waiting longer than expected. Her French was too rusty to offer him a decent apology, so she made a repentant face and shrugged her shoulders. With a roll of his eyes, the boy started toward the door. A taxi waited outside for her and she gladly headed off to the train station. All the while, Cora stared out the foggy window and remembered distantly all of the cab rides she had taken in New York. She remembered always having a boy's arm draped around her shoulder as they were driven into Manhattan. Even then, in the moments when she felt completely indestructible, Cora would gaze out the window and imagine that she was anywhere else in the world. She supposed that she always felt that way, unless she was working or spending time with her men… or she was near Dick.

Her head reeled for a moment and she inhaled sharply. Are you a fucking moron, Larson? The station came into view and Cora paid the driver as he handed her the bag. "Merci," she said in a whisper. She was too frazzled to speak at her normal decibel level. Within minutes, she was staring out of a new pane of glass and thinking. The snowy countryside rushed past her and she inched closer to the base every second, a thought that was generally comforting to her. In Cora's mind, it meant getting out of her dress uniform and into her paratrooper uniform. At that point in the night, she missed her boots more than a rum and coke.

She stepped down onto the platform and hurried along, her eyes looking forward. Cora walked through the warm station, past hugging French couples and other soldiers that clogged the path. She scanned the crowd to see if she saw anyone from the 101st there to retrieve her.

For the first time since the war began, she smiled at the sight of Lt. Ronald Speirs. His dark hair gleamed in the lamplight and his usual phlegmatic façade was illuminated as well. Cora automatically twisted into her customary mocking fashion, replacing all of her contemplative emotions back into the recesses of her mind to deal with at a later time.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here… Mr. Sunshine. How've you been, Ron?"

"Just fine, Captain," he said, snapping a little at her.

"I'm glad. So, who did you piss off to get sent here? I mean it, Ron, some one must not like you if they ordered you to come and pick me up. Besides, isn't it movie night?"

Speirs' jaw clenched. "I didn't piss anyone off, Captain. I'm just doing as I was told." With a violent swing, he tossed her sack into the back of the jeep. A worried expression came over Cora's face as the object landed with a loud thud. Her eyes grew wide and she gingerly climbed into the passenger seat of the vehicle. Speirs threw it into drive and the two quickly sped off toward Mourmelon-le-Grand.

The cold air stung her skin as they whipped through the night. A heavy scent of pine lingered in the air, like the 26th of December when all of the Christian families brought their Christmas trees down to the curb. Cora stared down at the road to her right to find a blur of black and white beneath her. Silence and wind filled her ears and created a tight knot in her stomach. Speirs stared forward, maneuvering through the darkness with an unbelievable accuracy. He slowed a little as they rounded a bend. Out of the blue, Cora spoke.

"Why do you hate me, Lieutenant?"

There was a long pause and Ron pulled the car over to the side of the road. He put it into park and turned sharply to look at her. "I don't hate you."

"Oh, really? Then explain yourself."

"I have men to lead, Captain. I—"

"Stop calling me that. It's getting old."

Ron paused and tightened his hand on the steering wheel. "Look, the men know you mean business. You made it this far without giving up. They respect you for it. You've never complained about being tired or dirty or being surrounded by a bunch of crazy sons-of-bitches. Not when it really mattered. But it's different for a man. If a man shows one sign of weakness, he can be quickly taken advantage of… it's the way I was raised. You were raised the same way, weren't you? You must know where I'm coming from."

Cora snorted and held back a laugh. "Actually, I was raised to be prim and proper. All my sisters are that way. Delicate and sweet, like a lady should be. I guess I learned one day that was never going to have my mother's approval, which was all I really wanted. After that, I did what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it. I'm just a tomboy, Ron."

Speirs laughed and put the jeep into drive. The tension lifted between them and there was a new, unspoken understanding.

&

"I've seen this a dozen times," Luz said, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Well, I haven't, so shut up!" Joe Toye growled.

Cora laughed and propped her feet on the back of Joe's chair, hitting him in the head with the toe of her boot. He turned around with a hard stare to be met with her playful grin as she took a drag of her cigarette. The smoke lingered in her for a moment before she exhaled, the anxiety of earlier escaping as well. Cora rested her head on George's shoulder and reveled in the warmth of her pants and her coat. Laughter bubbled forth as Luz imitated the woman on the screen. She had seen the film with him each time and the bit he did always amused her.

"Have you ever noticed that you can never see John Wayne's teeth? That just doesn't seem right to me," Cora said.

In front of her, Lipton mumbled and tilted his head back with a heavy sigh. "Cora, you know I mean no disrespect and that it's out-of-line for me to say this, but shut up."

His aggravation only made Cora more amused. "I wish they wouldn't show these types of movies. You know, all the ones that show people in the armed forces. Why can't they show John Wayne the way he's meant to be: shooting the bad guys and riding a horse?"

Lipton and Toye both turned around to shush her rambling. Their faces both flushed red in anger and their knuckles turned white as they clenched into fists. Cora rolled her eyes and blew smoke in their faces. With a heavy sigh, she retreated back into her own thoughts, not about the film or the actors, but about Dick.

The way he had whispered her name sent chills rocketing down her spine. Under all of her clothing, goosebumps had risen when he placed his hand on the small of her back. Something between them had changed in that moment, for he had been forced to catch her many times before. But those times she had been caked in mud or in the middle of a field, not in Paris. She silently damned whoever thought of sending her off there, to the city of light and romance. As far as she was concerned, though, the night couldn't have gotten worse.

"Lights!" a voice called from the back of the room.

I'd give anything to stop being so wrong all the time.

Grumbling and shouts rolled across the room, cries of annoyance as The Duke's face quickly faded away. "Elements of the 1st and the 6th SS Panzer Division have broken through in the Ardennes Forest. Now, they've overrun the 28th Infantry and elements of the 4th. All officers report to their respective HQs. All passes are cancelled. Enlisted men report to the barracks and your platoon leaders."

Behind her, Cora heard Malarkey moan in frustration. In front, Toye slid further down in his chair. Cora pursed her lips and patted Lipton on the back before he stood. She waited for the other's to leave, enjoying the brief moment of quiet that their exiting had left her with. She inhaled deeply and got up, turning to find Dick walking out. That doesn't seem possible… Buck Compton had halted in the middle of the aisle, his gaze fixed on his faded boots. Cora placed her hand on his shoulder tenderly.

"How you doing, Buck?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

He offered her a weak smile, one that didn't reach his cerulean eyes. "I'm doing fine, Cora."

The corner of her mouth twisted up to form a smirk and she looped her arm with his. Cora leaned her head against him, close enough so only he could hear her.

"Liar."

&

Men rushed back and forth, trucks rumbled down roads, and the troops were gathered. The officers scrambled to find ammunition, food, and clothing for their men without much luck. The leaders of Easy Company huddled together around a fire. Cora, the last to arrive to the impromptu gathering, squeezed in between Lt. Peacock and Lt. Compton; still unsure of exactly she would react if she were to stand too close to Dick.

As usual, Lt. Dike was ignorant of the whole situation regarding his own men. To her, it seemed pathetic when the Company's surgeon knew more than the CO. Cora knew that there was a lack of ammo and winter clothing. She also knew that there was very little plasma left, since she had donated some of it to the aid station back in Holland that needed it more than she did at the time. Her scissors were starting to get dull and her patience was wearing thin, but there was nothing that could be done.

As Dike rambled on and on, Cora's blood began to boil and she inched toward her breaking point. Nostrils flared and eyes rolled as she tapped her feet against the snow-covered ground. "Then report back to me, understood?" he said, acting like taking charge of a situation was second nature to him.

Cora stood by, waiting like a mongoose about to attack an agitated cobra. Her eyes gleamed with hatred for the man across from her and brief images of all the ways she could kill him flashed before her. Dike turned to her, defiant and haughty. "What about the medical supplies? Are they as low as everything else?"

"Yes, but I've informed Roe and Spina and they're gathering everything they can right now. If we're really desperate or without an aid station, we'll resort to using the morphine from the soldiers' kits."

"So, you—you have it all under control, then?" Winters asked, stumbling over the words.

Cora nodded and glanced at him from under a fan of black lashes. She could see him blushing slightly in the firelight, and it brought a small beam to her face.

"When were to going to let me in on this little secret, Miss Larson?" Dike snapped with an annoyed tone.

The final straw. "When you stop addressing me as a civilian, Lieutenant. The entire point of having ranks is to have some sort of order and you're royally screwing that up. I'm not some stupid field nurse that you can talk down to. Got it? And, for fuck's sake, stop looking so shocked. It's annoying."

Dike backed away from her a little and nodded curtly. "Yes, Captain Larson," he replied. The words seemed almost impossible for him to get out. Once he was out of earshot, Dick let out a small snort.

"Impressive."

"Yeah. That's just because I got my point across without ripping his eyes out of his head."

For a long moment, the two stared down at the flames. The heat rose to their faces and to their outstretched hands. The sounds melted around them into a sea of static. Cora finally spoke up.

"So, why'd you leave Paris early?" she asked, truly curious.

Dick internally bickered with himself over his answer. The truth was that it just didn't feel right, being there without her; that all he could think about was her, even as he attempted to relax in a warm bath. There was no way, though, that he could explain to her that his imagination ran wild with thoughts of her soft lips on his bare skin without her having an aneurysm. "Civilization isn't really my idea of a good time, I guess," he lied, although it was not a complete fabrication.

Cora laughed. "I'd love you bring you to New York someday. Take you around Manhattan for a while."

Dick stared back down into the fire before turning his head. "I'd like that."

Cora's head snapped up quickly. There was something lingering in the depths of his eyes that made her heart race. She hadn't even noticed that she had moved toward him – or that he had moved toward her – until he was towering over her, his red hair gleaming. Cora's hands shook and she reached out to take Dick's in her own.

"Capt'n Larson? You ridin' with us?" a voice called from behind her, either Bill or Babe's.

Cora wrenched her hands back and stuffed them into her pockets. She answered with an abrupt "yes," her eyes never leaving those of the man standing before her. A heavy sigh escaped her before she turned toward the truck, filled with Easy Company. A phony smile spread across her features as she walked, a fake spring in her light step, over to the men. I wonder if Darla ever felt like this around Alfalfa.

The cold ripped through the canvas flaps of the truck, the wind howling. Their headlights illuminated the dust that the tires stirred up and the soldiers in the vehicle in front. Buck squinted into the light, looking around at the darkened scenery. He casually tapped Cora on the helmet and she gave him a weak grin in return. She was squished in between Liebgott and Malarkey with her knees pressed close to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. All of the thoughts rushing through her head made her feel like throwing up and flying at the same time. What if it's just Sobel flashbacks? What if this is just your imagination? What if you're wrong? The bumps and rocking came to a standstill and the barrier opened down.

As Cora hopped down from the back of the vehicle, her knee popped noisily. It wasn't uncommon for her and it wasn't something she typically talked about with the men, just in case. She still wasn't quite sure if the stretched ligaments in her kneecaps would get her off the line. A pain shot through it, but it was something that she had learned to ignore. Unlike Emily, one of her older sisters, Cora's kneecap had never completely come out of place, but she was afraid that it was only a matter of time.

Troops from another division came marching by, the defeat heavy in their expressions and their postures. The men from Easy Company immediately asked about ammo and received what they could from the beaten soldiers. Cora, taking notice, went to the medics and the surgeons; it seemed that plasma was a scare item for all. But she took what she could and hurriedly stuffed everything in her bag, barely aware of the jeep full of ammunition that had driven by. In hopes that he had brought some medical supplis with him, Cora rushed over, only to be met with a strangely familiar face.

"Cora?" he asked.

His dark eyes lit up like the Fourth of July and he seemed to glow from beneath his helmet. Cora stood like a deer in headlights, searching for a name to go with the face. What is it? What is it? She thought she remembered him from her high school days, which seemed as if they had happened millenniums earlier. What is your damn name? Her head started swimming. Cora couldn't really even remember where exactly within those four years he had been. English, Geometry, Algebra, Writing, History… where? Or perhaps it had been in medical school? No, it was after that. After she had signed up with the troops. No one could know that was heading off to Georgia, in case they tried to stop her. What is… ah ha!

"George!"

"Yes! It's me, Cora. My God, I thought you were dying?" he asked, confused but excited nonetheless.

Cora fidgeted nervously. "I was, but I, uh… I got better." Dick threw her an amused glance.

"Maybe, if we both survive this, we can meet up again sometime."

"Absolutely, Glenn," she answered quickly.

"George. You mean, George…"

She nodded with certainly and with slight embarrassment. See him again? She had barely wanted to see him the first time. "Yeah, sure."

With a quizzical expression, the lieutenant drove off. Cora and Dick waved the dust away from their faces. He looked down at her, disbelief written all over him. Her eyebrows knitted together in frustration and she let out a lengthy sigh.

"You told the man you were dying? That's low, even for you."

"Not the first time I've lied, won't be the last. Ya know, I also lied about those Canadians, " she retorted.

"About dating them?"

Cora scoffed. "No, about them being unreliable. Best guys I ever knew, came from wonderful families. And, boy, could they –"

"Cora, I'd prefer not to hear the rest of that sentence if it's okay with you," Dick said, cutting off what was likely to be another detail into her sexcapades that he didn't need to know about.

"Noted."

With brief nods, the two headed off into the Ardennes forest; into the cold and what was likely to mean death for many. As they walked together, though, each felt genuinely safe. Whatever had happened (or not happened) between them earlier that night had been put to the side; Bastogne was more important.