Well here it is! I'm impressed with myself for getting this out haha. Our county fair started today so I'm pretty much living on fair food for the next five days. This is what happens when you did 4-H for 11 years…even when you've been done with 4-H for 6 years, you STILL get pulled back to help out.
Anyway, enough of my rant/blurb/whatever that was.
So apparently my chapters are just going to keep getting longer…by around 1,000 words each time. Hopefully that doesn't keep up or by chapter 20 it's going to take you all two days just to read it hahaha.
But this is a long author's note, so without further ado…
Chapter Six
Meg wished she had paid more attention to the German's she'd killed over the past few years.
She was currently standing over a table, looking down at five German guns and for the life of her she couldn't remember anything about them.
It was a rainy Wednesday morning and the boys were set to spend the next two hours in a classroom studying German military weapons.
"Planning how best to impress us with your skills?" a voice asked and she turned to find Lewis Nixon leaning against the doorframe.
"No," she replied with a laugh. "Planning how far away I should be when the boys arrive so no one can find out I don't know what any of these are," she admitted and Lewis laughed.
"Really? None of them?" he asked, sounding surprised.
"I've seen all of them before, I just couldn't tell you what they are," she said as he walked over to look at them with her. "The make of gun wasn't exactly on my mind when they were being aimed at me," she shot out and Lew smirked at her sarcastic tone.
There were six weapons on the table; four pistols and two rifles.
"Well that's a Radom," Lewis said, pointing to the first one. "That's a Luger and that's an Astra. Then those rifles are both Karabiners."
"I take it you've already had this lesson?" Meg asked coyly and Lewis nodded with a laugh. "Well that's just not fair."
"Hey," he replied, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, "I've only seen them in a classroom. You've seen them in the field. It's your own fault you don't know what they are."
Meg leaned over the table and picked up the pistol Lewis hadn't named.
"I've seen this one up close before," she said softly, almost to herself. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember exactly when it was.
"Hey check this out!" Adam shouted, running down the hall to catch up to Meg and Christian. He was holding up a pistol and Meg smirked.
"So Marco forgave you for practically demolishing the last one?" she asked and he scowled at her.
"It's not my fault it got run over in Italy," He shot back before holding the gun out for them to see. "It's the new Sauer," he bragged and Meg's eyebrows shot up. "They just started production," he added, but they all knew that.
"Maybe I should get my gun run over," Meg said, eyeing the older pistol at her hip.
"Yeah right, like Marco would let you get a brand new Sauer. Maybe for your 22nd birthday," he teased and she frowned.
"Well check this one out," Christian suddenly spoke up, holding his own pistol out.
"Where did you get that?" Meg asked, her eyes growing even wider.
"Yeah, that's sure not IIA regulation," Adam put in.
"It's a Walther PPK," he told them, flipping it over so they could see the whole thing. "I just got it a couple weeks ago."
"Where?" Meg asked, surprised that he had gotten a hold of something like that from anyone but the IIA.
"A friend of my dad's," he said with a shrug, putting it back in its holster.
"That's a Walther," Meg said, opening her eyes and setting the gun back down.
"Yeah that's right, a Walther," Lewis agreed, looking at her with a slight frown. "How did you know that?"
"A friend of mine used to have one," she explained simply before turning to him and putting on a false smile. "So do you have to sit in on this lesson again?" she asked and he shook his head.
"Of course not, one round was good enough for me," he replied with a smirk. "Besides, if the rest of the boys are all sitting in on lessons, who's gonna keep an eye on you and make sure you don't get into trouble with the training equipment again?"
Meg groaned.
"You heard about that?" she asked, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.
"Meg, I don't think there's a person in Aldbourne who didn't hear about that," he informed her. "It looks like it's healing well though," he added, suddenly reaching his hand up to run his thumb along the scratch on her cheek.
Meg froze, not entirely knowing what to do. Lewis seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly dropped his hand, looking away. Luckily they were both saved the embarrassment by the arrival of the men, Easy Company filing in first.
"Don't tell us you're teaching this one too!" George cried when they spotted her.
"No," she said with a laugh, turning away from Lewis and sighing in relief. "Just taking a look on my own time," she explained before nodding to them all. "Have fun."
And before anyone could say anything else she was out the door, Lewis hot on her heels.
"So what are your plans for the next two hours?" he asked as he fell into step next to her.
"What are your plans?" she asked, turning the question on him. "Don't you have some sort of important intelligence officer paperwork to be working on?" she asked and he laughed.
"Actually I do. Want to get out of this rain and head to my office? I can offer you a nice cup of coffee...or tea," he added, "whichever you prefer."
Once again, Meg's first thought was to turn down his offer. While the past few days had proven that she could stand being around him for long periods of time, there were still moments when he got to be too much.
"Alright," she found herself answering. "But only for the tea," she clarified and he laughed, nodding.
"Of course."
Twenty minutes later found Meg leaning against the window frames of Lewis' office, gazing out of them, teacup in hand
He had managed to scrounge up some Earl Gray for her, much to her surprise. Everything was quiet, save for the 'tap' 'tap' of his typewriter as he wrote out reports.
"You know when I was little," she suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. Lewis' fingers slowed on the typewriter as he glanced up at her. She continued. "When I was little, my mother and I used to love rainstorms. We had them all the time, it was England of course, but I don't think there was a single one we didn't go outside and dance in."
She turned away from the window then, glancing at him.
"Every one?" he asked, obviously not believing her.
"It was our favorite thing to do. We would always put on our galoshes and hurry outside to jump in the puddles." She laughed at the memory of it. "Father used to always be so mad when he'd come home to find us drenched, pools of water throughout the house." She trailed off, glancing back out the window. "But it didn't matter. Every time it rained, we did it again."
Lewis stared at her as she spoke, watching as she finally stopped. It was obvious she was caught in a dream, a memory of a time long gone. After a beat of silence she seemed to realize what was going on and turned to him, blushing.
"Sorry, I'm interrupting your typing," she said but he waved her off, leaning back in his desk chair.
"I needed the break anyway, my fingers are getting stiff," he explained and she laughed, walking over to lean against his desk.
"You were barely writing for ten minutes," she said and he shrugged.
"Eh, I still needed the break."
"So what about you Lieutenant Nixon? Do you enjoy the English weather?"
"Oh God, not more questions," he teasingly moaned. It made her happy though, because she realized he was making light of their spat from before. "I dunno, it's alright I guess. It'd be nice if it wasn't raining all the time."
"That's England for you," she sighed as she set her teacup down and walked back over to the window.
"Am I boring you?" he asked, head bent back over his typewriter.
"Not at all," she responded. "Let me know if I'm annoying you and affecting your work."
"Annoying, yes. Affecting, no," he said before looking up and tossing her a wink.
"Lewis," she started to ask a question but he cut her off.
"Lew. Only my mother calls me Lewis, and it annoys the hell outta me," he said and she nodded, feeling bad that she forgot what he'd told her to call him on her first day.
"Sorry," she said quickly before continuing with her question. "Lew, if all the men seem to hate Sobel, why is he still in charge of Easy Company?"
"It's not that easy," he said, once again removing his hands from the typewriter. "I wish it were, but it's not. Is it that easy where you come from?"
"You mean at the IIA?" she asked, mostly to remind him of what it was called. "Of course it is. If you get a team together and the team members don't have faith in their leader, you report to Marco and after an evaluation the leader's removed. You can't have someone lead a group of people on a mission if the team doesn't trust them. That's how missions get botched or people get killed."
"I wish the American military was more like the II whatever," Lew said as a knock sounded on the door.
"Lieutenant?" a voice asked as an orderly peeked his head around the corner. "The Colonel would like to see you in his office."
"Alright I'll be right there," Lew said before standing up. "Well, duty calls. Feel free to make yourself at home if you'd like to stay out of the rain for a bit longer."
Meg waved off his suggestion quickly, turning to walk with him toward the door.
"I should be heading back. Besides, haven't you been listening? I love the rain."
And before he could say anything else, she was off down the hallway, a chipper skip in her step.
Lew stood there for a moment, watching her with a chuckle and a shake of his head. When she turned the corner and disappeared from sight, he too turned, heading in the direction of the second floor and Colonel Sink's office.
As Meg made her way slowly back to her quarters, she reveled in the rain, holding her arms out and allowing the raindrops to hit her skin. Despite the fact that it was October and thus the rain was cold, she enjoyed it. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed the rain.
That realization hit her like a ton of bricks, causing her to stop dead in the middle of the walkway. A corporal behind her made an annoyed noise before walking around her, continuing on his way, but she ignored him.
What were these Easy men doing to her? Before she had arrived at Aldbourne, she had been a broken woman, carelessly pieced back together with uneven edges and sharp chips missing. Not even one week surrounded by the paratroopers and already she seemed almost back to her old, happy self; a self people hadn't seen in over a year.
Wouldn't Adam be surprised when he got back? Surprised and annoyed. He had been trying to get her out of the tough shell she'd built for almost as long as she had been in it. His attempts had been in vain, but he had refused to give up, trying everything he could until Marco had sent Meg down to Level 3 to spend time in solitary confinement, monitored by the doctors there.
One day had turned into five. One week had turned into three. One month had turned into eight, and before she knew it, she had been in Level 3 for a year. With Adam off on constant missions and Marco afraid of what Meg would do to herself, she hadn't seen anyone except the doctors and the occasional check up from Marco.
But now here she was, chatting and joking with the Americans like it was a completely normal thing.
They had changed her for the better.
That Friday the boys had prodded and pushed Meg, begging her to come out with them.
"I really shouldn't..." she trailed off, wondering how much they would insist.
"C'mon Meg!" George pleaded, giving her a sad pair of puppy eyes.
"Yeah c'mon Meg!" Malarkey added and she had to hold back a grin. It had taken a few more interactions, but Malarkey was able to look her in the eye without blushing anymore. It was progress.
"I went out two nights last weekend. I really should be working. You know I've barely done any training of my own since I got here," she said but Bill shook it off.
"That's what weekdays are for," he argued. Meg heaved a large, dramatic sigh.
In truth, she was more than happy to say yes. After her epiphany on Wednesday she knew she wanted to spend as much time with these boys as possible. They were good for her; a breath of fresh air after being locked in a stuffy room. So maybe it was a slightly narcissistic part of her that enjoyed hearing them try so hard to get her to go out with them.
Just as she was about to say yes, a body appeared before them and they all looked up into the eyes of Lipton.
Meg hadn't had the pleasure of talking to him at all, but she had heard from the other guys that he was one of the best; a good soldier and a good man.
"Just heard from Winters. We're doing a night exercise tonight," he said and all the guys at the table groaned. "They want us lined up at 1900."
"I guess we'll have to take a rain check on that night out," George said to Meg. She smiled, patting him on the arm.
"It's alright. This way I'll get my work done and will have plenty of time to be out with you boys tomorrow," she said, hoping to cheer them up a bit.
The rest of dinner was devoted to the boys complaining about the exercise before they finally rose from their seats, needing the time to head back and get ready.
"Good luck!" she called after them before rising from her own seat and heading back to her quarters, located in the opposite direction from theirs.
If she was being completely honest with herself, she was starting to miss Adam. After all, they had only been together for about a day before he had headed out again, and before that it had been a year. In those few hours she had spent with him that week, she had realized just how much she had missed him that past year. Maybe it was the way she was changing and becoming more open, but she suddenly wished he was there to talk to. She needed someone to talk to and who better than a brother?
She spent the rest of the night thinking about Adam, thinking of all the things she wanted to say to him in the hopes that maybe those thoughts would help make her feel better. Instead they brought her nightmares back.
For the third time that week, she found herself walking along the footpath in the early hours of the morning. This time however, no one came across her. She found herself missing the short conversations she'd had with Dick in this situation previously. It was nice to run into someone who would instantly make you feel better, and Dick was one of those people.
But he never showed, and instead she found herself drifting through the different barracks, keeping quiet and to the shadows as she walked. It was almost four am before she returned to her bed, hoping that nothing would disturb her in the morning so she could sleep in a bit if need be. It wouldn't hurt anyone if she showed up for breakfast a little late, and if it was too late she could just head into the town and stop at one of the local places to pick up something.
She had been meaning to do that anyway. Her interaction with her fellow Brits had been lacking over the past week, not to mention the past year. She was eager for conversation with someone who was more on par with everything. While she wasn't complaining about hanging with the Americans, there were times when an English girl just needed to talk to someone else who was English.
Deciding she'd go straight into town in the morning, she settled into bed, thoughts of Germany and Christian completely gone from her head.
Saturday afternoon, as she was walking back from the mailroom, she bumped into Lew and Dick, both looking perturbed. Dick was holding a piece of paper like it was going to bite him.
"What's wrong?" she asked, coming up to fall in step beside them. "Bad news from home?"
"Worse," Lew informed her as Dick handed over the piece of paper he was holding. Meg skimmed the page, her eyebrows rising up to her hairline in surprise.
"He spelled Court Martial wrong," she said first, earning a snort from Lew. "Can he seriously get away with this?" she asked next and both men shrugged. "I must say, the American Army has a peculiar way of running things. If this was IIA, Sobel would have been out months ago."
"Yeah well, as we discussed before, not all of us can be so lucky," Lew said, tossing her a wink.
"What's the IIA stand for again?" Dick asked, seeming to forget about the piece of paper for a second.
"International Intelligence Agency," she replied, smirking. It was an easy acronym, so she didn't understand why they kept forgetting.
The group lapsed into silence for a second before Meg turned their thoughts back to the piece of paper.
"What are you going to do?" she asked and she handed the letter back to Dick.
This was rather serious.
"I dunno," Dick said with a shrug. "Fight it I suppose. Excuse me."
Meg and Lew stopped walking, watching as their friend sped up and headed in the direction of HQ.
"They can't really Court Martial him for that, can they?" she asked Lew as they watched the tall redhead grow smaller.
"I'd like to think not," he said before turning to her. "So, anything exciting in your mail?" he asked, nodding to the two letters she had tucked under her arm.
"Well definitely not as exciting as a bottle of whiskey," she replied with a grin. "I've got one from Adam and I suppose the other is from Marco."
"Your commanding officer," Lew clarified and she nodded. "When is Adam coming back?"
"Why, sick of me already?" Meg asked with a smirk, which Lew returned.
"Sick of trying to keep you in line," he shot back. "Your brother's way better at it than I am."
Instead of gracing Lew's comment with a response, Meg tore open Adam's letter and skimmed it quickly.
"He says he expects to be back by tomorrow," she informed him, folding up the rest of the letter to read in privacy later.
"Another whole day on your own. And a Saturday at that," Lew said, raising his eyebrows as if this was a big deal. "Whatever are you going to do with your time?"
"I don't know," Meg said with a shrug as they both turned and began walking. "The lads were trying to convince me to head to the pub with them last night before the impromptu evening exercise. I suppose I may give in and go there tonight...as long as my reports are done."
Lew scoffed.
"Reports for what? How to get your hair caught in barbed wire?"
Meg wrinkled her nose at his joke.
"For your information, I am in constant contact with the IIA. Occasionally they send me things to look over. Confidential things I'll have you know."
Lew rolled his eyes at the term confidential.
"Well save your reports for tomorrow. This is your last night of freedom before the slave driver returns."
"If Adam heard you call him that I doubt he'd be as friendly with you as he is."
"Friendly is not a term I would use to describe how your brother has interacted with me," Lew informed her. Meg just shrugged again.
"He's just worried about me."
"And he thinks I'll do something to hurt you?" Lew asked, feigning hurt. Meg chuckled lightly before turning serious.
"The last time I was close to another man he..." she trailed off as a wave of sadness crashed over her. She hadn't thought about Christian at all since waking from her nightmare the night before. Thinking about him again brought back all her nightmarish thoughts. Lew noticed her hesitation and stopped, turning to give her his full attention. "Well it didn't end well," she finished before turning and quickly heading off, leaving Lew alone.
Alone and feeling slightly angered at the thought of another man hurting Meg.
Nine o'clock that night found Meg in a dilemma.
She was standing by her bed, eying two separate dresses with no idea which one to wear.
It had been exactly one week since she had met the men, and in that week she had gotten to know them well. So well, in fact, that she felt she couldn't just throw any old dress on to go to the pub.
Which was why she was currently trying to decide between a black sheathed dress and a red dress with a full-circle skirt. Her hair was currently up in curlers and she reached up to tug at one that was slightly tight, frowning as she pondered which dress to choose.
Of course she could very well wear one this weekend and one next weekend, but it was this weekend that would make the biggest impression. Sure the boys knew her, and most likely their opinions of her wouldn't go down if she showed up in a burlap sack. However she knew she had a lot to prove to the men like Sobel who felt she shouldn't be there, whether because she was a girl, because she was a Brit, or because she was a spy.
Finally deciding on the red dress, she turned and headed over to the mirror, beginning to do her makeup. She didn't want to overdo it, but these boys were so used to seeing her dressed down that she wanted to remind them that she was still a woman.
It was almost 9:30 when she decided she was ready. Slipping on her black heels, she turned and headed out the door.
She was still a block away from the pub when she heard the noise. It was a mixture of background music and rambunctious, male voices. Smirking to herself, she rounded the corner and felt herself drawn in to the light from the windows. Stepping over the threshold, she took in the sight, trying to spot any of her favorites.
"Meg!" a voice cried and she turned to see Muck making his way through the crowd to her, a beer bottle in each hand.
"Muck," she replied with a smile, stepping over to meet him in the crowd. "Where are you boys sitting?"
"Over there," Muck said, lifting one beer-filled hand to motion in the direction. She squinted her eyes and quickly spotted a table with a few familiar faces back by the dartboards. She decided that must be their usual place.
"Alright, I'll join you all in a minute," she said, patting him on the chest as she walked around him and over toward the bar.
"What can I get you ma'am?" the older bartender asked, coming to a stop in front of her.
"Gin on the rocks," a voice to her left said. Turning with raised eyebrows, she smirked at Lew as he came to a stop next to her.
"Is this going to become a weekly occurrence for us then?" she asked and he shrugged.
"If you want it to be," he replied as the bartender returned with her drink. Turning to the crowd, Lew placed his hand on the small of her back, sending a small shiver through her. She allowed him to lead her through the crowd, over to a table that was occupied by Harry and another man she recognized but didn't know.
"Boy, you're pulling out all the stops tonight," she said with a smirk as Lew pulled his chair out for her before grabbing another one from another table for himself.
"What can I say?" Lew responded, his signature smirk gracing his lips.
Not wanting to give him any satisfaction, Meg turned to the rest of the group, focusing on the man she didn't know.
"Meg, this is Lieutenant Ronald Spiers. Ron, this is Meg Myeroff."
"So, I finally get to meet the mysterious British spy," Ron said, aiming a slightly sadistic smirk at her.
Meg didn't know whether to take it as a joke or as a serious comment.
"Are you with Easy Company?" she chose to ask instead. He shook his head.
"No, Fox Company," he said before Lew cut him off.
"Not quite as good as Easy," he asked boisterously. "Right Ron?"
If looks could kill, Meg thought it would have been smart for her to carry a firearm, for Lew's protection.
"So," Meg said, turning to address the group as a whole. "How goes it with Dick and Sobel?"
Before the other two could answer, Lew had cut in again, this time with a laugh.
"Sobel gave him the option to either have his 48-hour passes revoked for 60 days or to initiate a letter of appeal to request a trial by Court Martial and that lugnut chose the second."
"What does that mean?" Meg asked, thoroughly confused by American military politics.
"It means that they'll have a military trial to determine whether Dick is guilty of insubordination. If he's found guilty, he'll be court martialed," Harry explained and Meg scowled.
"I just don't get how they can do that," she said into her drink and Lew shrugged.
"Well hopefully they can't," he told her.
"It looks like you're being summoned," Harry said suddenly and Meg looked in the direction he was indicating.
George, Muck and Joe Toye were all standing up, looking in their direction. When Meg spotted them, the three started waving their hands frantically, motioning for her to join them. Finishing her drink in one gulp, Meg stood, nodding to the three lieutenants before heading through the crowd.
"Whatcha doin' Meg?" George asked when she approached, "choosing the higher-ups over us?"
"Of course not," Meg said with a sarcastic chuckle. "But since Lieutenant Nixon bought my drink, I thought it only right I sit with them for a moment."
"What drink?" Muck asked, nodding to her two empty hands.
"I finished it," she said and Muck turned around to face the bar.
"Gonorrhea!" he shouted, getting the attention of his friend. "Grab Meg a drink will ya?"
"Are you boys trying to get me drunk?" Meg asked with a smirk as she followed them over to the dartboards.
"Of course we are," George said, acting as if this was completely obvious. "We want to have our wicked ways with you."
Meg locked eyes with him, shaking her head when he winked, indicating he was joking.
"Anyone care for a game of darts?" she asked casually, motioning to the empty boards near them.
"Hell no!" Bill said, walking back over and handing her a large pint of beer. "We learned our lesson last weekend. If we play, you can watch."
Meg just shrugged, raising the glass to her lips and taking a large sip.
"So," George started as the other boys broke into teams of two, getting ready to play a round. "Nixon bought you a drink huh?"
Meg rolled her eyes, turning to the paratrooper.
"What are you, my brother?" she asked sarcastically.
"Only when Adam's not around," he shot back before throwing her a grin.
Meg groaned when she realized he wasn't going to let it up.
"He just happened to be at the bar when I was so he bought me my drink," she said, not feeling the need to go into any more detail.
"Correction," George said, setting his drink down so he could light himself a cigarette, "he just happened to spot you on your way to the bar and decided to meet you there. I watched the whole thing," he clarified when Meg eyed him with an annoyed look.
"You're taking this babysitting thing too seriously. Besides, he's married remember?" she asked as Muck called her name.
"Come over here and give Bill and me some good luck!" he shouted.
Turning to George, Meg stuck her tongue out at him in a very unladylike fashion. Then she spun on her heel and headed over to join Muck and Bill, placing a kiss on the cheeks of both.
"For good luck," she said before pulling up a stool to sit next to them.
"Babe, I think you need to be my good luck charm every match," Bill said thirty minutes later. He and Muck had successfully beaten the Joes, earning them two packs of Lucky Strikes. "Muck, get her another drink on us."
"Make it a gin on the rocks," Meg called and Muck nodded, indicating he had heard her.
"Gin? Say, what kinda lady are you?" Joe Toye asked as he sat down next to Bill.
"One who doesn't take shit," she said and Bill raised his nearly empty glass to her foul language.
"Hear hear," he said before finishing it.
For the next two hours, the small group of Easy Company men entertained Meg, telling her stories from Taccoa, jokes from home, and giving her the lowdown on what to expect from some of the other paratroopers.
When the clock struck 11, Meg put down her fifth drink, blinking a few times to bring her eyes to focus.
"I should probably go," she said, looking around for her coat and finding it on the back of her chair. She hadn't even remembered putting it there.
"But it's only 11," George argued and she nodded.
"I know I know," she said, standing up slowly. "But I've drank way too much tonight and I should get to bed."
"I'll walk you," Muck, Toye and Liebgot all said at the same time, stopping to eye each other.
"No, no, no," she said, pulling away from her chair. "I prefer walking alone."
And before any of them could argue, she was already weaving her way to the door.
"Meg," a voice said and a body stopped in front of her, causing her to look into the concerned eyes of Harry Welsh.
"Harry," she said with a small nod of her head.
"Are you alright? Do you want me to walk you home?" he asked but she waved him off, stepping around him.
"I'm fine," she said, continuing on her path toward the door and ignoring him when he called her name again.
She was halfway home when she realized someone was following her.
She assumed the person had been following her since the pub and once again she had to curse herself for letting her senses go lax. Then she cursed herself again when she realized she had neither a gun nor a blade. If the person attacked, she'd have to protect herself with her bare hands.
Knowing she couldn't take them as easily as she had Cobb in her current condition, she picked up the pace, breaking into a quick jog.
"Christ Meg," a familiar voice called out of the darkness, "can't you go easy on a guy who's just trying to make sure you get home alright?"
Coming to a quick halt, she spun around, watching Lew approach out of the darkness.
"What are you trying to do, scare a girl to death?" she asked, putting her hand to her heart to feel it beating faster than normal.
"That's not usually my goal where women are concerned," he joked as he came to a stop in front of her. "I heard you wouldn't let anyone walk you home," he stated.
"Harry," Meg cursed the lieutenant under her breath.
"Well actually I heard it from George Luz first, but Harry did tell me something similar. I also heard you were drunk."
"Who's the spy now?" she asked, looking up into his eyes. She was surprised to see that behind his less than sober gaze, they were laced with concern.
"Come on," he said, taking her arm in his. "Let go of your damn pride for one night and let a guy walk you home safely."
Meg was about to argue when she felt her ankle roll slightly, causing her to need to re-step to steady herself. Lew's hands shot out on instinct to help.
"Alright, so maybe I am a little drunk," she admitted, still not ready to admit she might need help walking home.
Looking up, she frowned when she saw Lew looked pretty pleased at himself for getting it right.
"No need to gloat," she said, turning back to face the direction she was heading. "So are you going to walk me back or what?" she finally conceded, realizing he wouldn't stop pestering her until she agreed.
The two took off, falling silent except for the sounds of their shoes on the stones. As they continued to walk, Meg focused on her shoes, listening to the clack-clack of her heels. Focusing too much would be her downfall.
Hitting her left shoe on a large rock, she pitched forward suddenly, being steadied by Lew's arm through hers.
"Boy you're filling every drunken stereotype tonight aren't you?" he asked with exaggerated annoyance as they paused so she could get her bearings.
"What other ones have I filled?" she asked out of curiosity.
"Slurring your words, making poor decisions (such as choosing to walk home alone), and stumbling. And I thought the boys were bad."
"Excuse me lieutenant, I haven't slurred my words once," she stated, earning a chuckle from him.
"Coulda fooled me," he told her as they continued walking.
When she suddenly stumbled a second time, Lew sighed and stopped, turning so his back was to her and squatting down.
"Get on," he said and she frowned, looking down at his back in confusion.
"I'm sorry?" she asked and he rolled his eyes.
"Get on my back. It'll take us forever to get you back if you keep stumbling every two feet."
Suddenly realizing what exactly he meant, she blushed, immediately shaking her head in protest.
"You can't carry me all the way back to my quarters," she said in exasperation.
"Meg, I carry 80 extra pounds whenever I do anything in full gear, I think I can handle carrying you to your quarters," he argued, his tone now starting to sound annoyed with her.
"This is highly inappropriate," Meg informed him as she walked over and sat down on top of him. "Hold on," she said as she pulled her skirt out gracefully. In that moment she was completely happy with her choice to not wear the black sheath dress. She would never have been able to do this in that thing.
"Are you ready yet?" Lew asked and Meg sighed, leaning forward to wrap her arms around his neck. He took that as his signal and stood up, reaching back to wrap his arms around her legs, his hands grazing her behind.
"Lewis Nixon!" Meg cried, squirming slightly and consequently choking him.
"Meg relax and stop trying to kill me," he said, making her realize what she had done. Loosening her grip around his neck, she tried to slide away from his hands. "If I don't hold you I'll drop you," he explained as they began to walk. "Didn't you used to do this as a kid?"
"I must have skipped that childhood milestone," she said dryly.
As they walked she felt herself slip with each step and out of reflex, she tightened her legs around his waist.
"Boy Meg, you sure move fast," Lew said, turning his head so she could hear him. "At least let me take you to dinner first."
Annoyed at his comment, she let go of his neck with one arm and slapped the back of his shoulder.
"Lewis Nixon if you don't stop with the suggestive comments I'm going to jump off your back and go home myself."
"You'd make it five feet before you hurt yourself permanently," he shot back amusedly.
"I can't believe we're doing this," Meg said under her breath and Lew chuckled. "You should be worried too mister. You're the one who's married."
"It's not like anyone will see us," he told her, "they're all still at the pub like normal drinkers on a Saturday night."
"Well I know one thing for sure," Meg said, ignoring his jab at her, "if you lot drink this much when you're in actual combat, the Germans are sure to win."
With the extra weight he was carrying, it took Lew longer than normal to reach her barracks. When they finally arrived, he let go of her, letting her slide down onto the front step.
"There ya go," he said as if he was talking to a child. Because of the chilly walk back, Meg had sobered up a small amount and did not find his patronizing tone humorous.
"Lew," she warned and he turned to receive the blunt of her scolding. However, before she could say anything, she realized just how close they were to each other. So close, in fact, that she had to tilt her head a great deal in order to be able to look into his eyes.
They both stood there, frozen in time as they looked at each other. It may have been seconds, or it may have been minutes, but suddenly Meg was pulled back to reality and she stepped back quickly.
"Good night lieutenant," she said roughly, hoping to cover up any emotion she had accidentally let show. "Thank you for carrying me home."
And before he could respond, she was shutting the door in his face. Hurrying over to the small window, she peeked out of it, watching as he stood there on the step for a moment, looking at the door where she had just disappeared.
The whole exchange confused her, and if the look on his face was any indication, he was having the same reaction. Finally, he reached up to run his left fingers through his hair and with a big heaving sigh he turned, heading in the direction of the officers' barracks.
With him gone, Meg sighed herself, plopping into the chair next to her.
What the hell was that all about? Not only did she know it was a bad idea to go getting involved with an American paratrooper while she was stationed her, this was Lewis Nixon for Lord's sake! If the fact that he annoyed the hell out of her wasn't enough to sway the idea then the fact that he was married definitely should have.
"Married," she repeated under her breath as she finally stood up a few minutes later, heading to her bed on wobbly legs. "The bloke is married."
I got so many reviews last chapter! It was like my birthday! Make sure to review for this chapter too! Let me know what you think of Meg and Lew!
Tegan Ganmore – no biggie, I sometimes forget to comment so believe me, I've been there haha. I'm glad you were happy with Meg's little incident. Making her more human is exactly what I was going for so I'm glad you saw it that way. Also, I'm still waiting on your PM about your headcanon! Haha
LovingBOBThePacific – Thanks for the review! This week has got me so busy getting ready for Fair that I haven't had a chance to look at your stories yet. (I barely even got to look at my own chapter! Haha) Don't worry though, after Monday night I will DEFINITELY have more time to read!
LauRa-ReaDinG-XoX – First, I seriously hope I got your name right. If not, I'm sorry haha. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing my story! I'm glad you're enjoying it! As far as Europe is concerned…you're just going to have to wait and see! There's still a while yet, so don't worry!
Paintmyworlddarkblue – I'm so glad you're a new reader! Thanks for taking the time to leave a review! I'm glad you like Meg, I do too! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!
IceColdInAlex – As I mentioned up there to LovingBOBThePacific, this week has got me swamped but next week I promise to look over everyone's stories hahaha. For now I will thank you for the review! I'm glad you're enjoying my story and you're liking the banter between Meg and the guys. Sometimes I feel like those conversations are my weak spots so it's nice to know that you're enjoying it.
To the two guests who reviewed: Thanks so much for taking the time to read and review! Leave your name next time so I can thank you specifically!