We Were Soldiers

168. A Fool There Was

As the winner of the last game, Danny had the choice of whether or not he took the breaking shot, so he designated it to his friend and leaned against his cue while he watched. No surprise, the balls went bouncing off the side buffers of the table, giving a nice, clean break position from which to truly start playing. The way they played teams was that each pocketed ball tagged the other player in, as did the break, which meant Danny had the next shot.

Going second was a sound strategic play. Barnes had the stronger strike. Of course he did; he hadn't been shot in his shoulder. Plus he'd been working out. Running. Probably lifting weights. Doing all sorts of physically demanding stuff, while Danny had sat on his ass behind a desk for two months and done as little physical exercise as humanly possible. He was definitely gonna have to start doin' something about that, before he got all flabby. Now that he'd regained the weight he'd lost doing forced marches with the 107th, the last thing he needed was to have to put additional notches in his belt in the other direction.

Stronger strike Barnes might have, but he also had a real bad habit of gettin' distracted by dames. Back with the 107th, when they'd been looking into all that Hydra stuff, he'd let nurses take up all his attention, and now it was the same old tune, only it was Wrens keeping him occupied. There was nothing wrong with admiring dames, of course, but he really wished his friend would do it when there were no stakes to worry about.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and as he stepped to the side of the table to take the next shot, he collared his friend by the elbow and leaned in to quietly ask, "You're not gonna throw this game, are you?"

"Of course not!" Barnes whispered back. "Why would you even ask me that?!"

"Because you're think you're very chivalrous and a pretty dame just smiled all sorts of nefarious things at you. I don't want you getting hustled, that's all."

"C'mon pal, give me some credit!"

Instead, Danny gave his friend a withering stare. Had he forgotten how besotted he'd been with Nurse Green, until she turned out to be a murderous Nazi spy? But clearly Barnes was in some serious denial. All that bullshit about not wanting to leave somebody behind to worry about him… couldn't he see that was exactly what he needed? A pretty dame to think about on dangerous missions. A pair of pouting lips to help chase away those dark shadows from the dusty corners of his memory. Cutting himself off from the world wouldn't make things hurt less, it would just deepen his loneliness and turn that pain into something heavier.

As he walked around the table looking for the best shot, he spotted the brunette—Alice—glide over to Barnes and smile up at him coyly. She took one of his hands in hers and said, "That was a great opening shot. The power in your strike… your hands are so strong!"

Barnes grinned like an idiot. "Well, I do work out a lot."

Danny shook his head and called a shot on a stripe in the left side pocket. Given how evenly spread the balls were across the table, it was an easy shot, and he managed to leave the cue ball in a position that left another easy shot directly open. The brunette studied the table as she ran her fingers across Barnes' palm.

"Your turn, pal," Danny said, because his friend was definitely not paying attention to the state of the table.

It should've been an easy shot. A child could've made it. A blind child with no arms. But clearly all that bullshit about strong hands had gone to Barnes' head, because he put much more force into the next strike than was needed, and the ball that should've rolled gently into the opposite side pocket instead hit the back of it and bounced back towards him, ricocheting off two other buffers and damn near bouncing off the table, which would've cost them the game.

They were definitely gonna be buying the girls all their drinks tonight.

"Aw, you were really close," said Alice. "I'm sure you'll get it next time!"

She took up position at the table and made an even easier shot than Danny's, sinking her first solid into a corner pocket. Katherine then took her place, and pocketed another. Then it was back to Alice, who'd been left in an awkward position that required her to bounce the cue ball off of a side to hit a solid that was hidden behind two stripes. She took aim carefully and applied a generous but not excessive amount of pressure down the cue, no sign of worry on her face. She'd definitely played a lot of pool before.

Her angle was off. After bouncing the cue ball off the side, it clipped a stripe before touching the solid, resulting in a foul. Now it was Barnes' turn again. The failed shot by Alice had left the cue ball in a decent position, right next to the two stripes that had been shielding the solid. Not even Barnes could screw this one up.

A warm breeze blew down the back of his neck, making him shiver. Her turned his head to find Katherine beside him, an innocent expression on her face. She rested her hand on his left shoulder, and leaned in close to whisper in his ear as she watched Barnes set himself up for the next shot. "Something tells me you're a serious man. Maybe after we've finished these two games, you and I could reserve a table somewhere. Play a little one on one."

"Maybe," he said. Then he tried to emulate Barnes' childish grin. Let her think that her femme fatale act was was working. She was attractive enough that it probably worked on most men, but hers seemed like an aloof beauty. Her eyes lacked the smouldering look of Mrs Miller, her mouth did not smile with abandon like Adalina's, and his brain said that although she was nice to look at and probably nice to kiss, she wasn't what it really wanted.

When Barnes made his shot, Danny took over. With five balls left to pocket, he was spoilt for choice. Two shots were available to him, one very easy and the other a little trickier that required a bounce, but he studied the table closely, mapping out where each of the shots would leave the cue ball. Right now he wasn't just playing for himself, he was playing for his friend as well. He had to leave the white in a position that made Barnes' next shot easy, because the guy was not playing reliably enough right now. If Danny took the easier shot for himself, it would leave Barnes in a trickier position next. So, he went for the harder shot.

The ball bounced off the side. Hit the stripe with gentle force and sent it rolling into the pocket, leaving the white with a clear shot on the next stripe. Danny let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"You know," Alice was saying to Barnes, placing her fingers atop of his where he held his cue, "you've got strength, but I wonder how accurate you are when the shots aren't easy like your last one. See that stripe sitting all the way in the corner?" It wasn't just all the way in the corner, it was all the way in the corner and surrounded by three solids. "Think you could sink that into the corner pocket? It's a tricky shot; I think even I would struggle with that."

Don't do it, don't do it…

"Sure, I can give it a try," Barnes said through his stupid grin.

"You know," Danny said to Katherine, who was still trying to ruffle him by gently blowing across the back of his neck when she thought he wasn't looking, "I gotta admire your nerve."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, look around. Most of the men here are watching you now. If I were a dame and playing while men were watching me like that, and I could feel every pair of eyes undressing me as, I can assure you, they are definitely doin' right now, I don't think I'd be able to play with such aplomb."

Katherine laughed quietly. "You get used to it. Besides, if a little mental undressing makes them happy, who am I to deny them that pleasure?"

She was definitely nothing like Agent Carter. Carter would probably punch a guy for even thinking about looking at her like that. He'd assumed all women in the military would be the same, but clearly they didn't all care about propriety so much.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes failed to make the shot and instead hit a solid. Luckily he didn't sink it, but the touch was a foul, so it was Alice's turn again. She made her shot. Katherine pocketed the next one. Danny mentally wrote the game off and prepared a cunning plan for the next match. The dames would not be using those same dirty tricks again.

"Good game," Alice said, shaking both of their hands after their resounding, if underhanded, win. Katherine did the same. "You gave us a run for our money, for sure. Are you still game for a rematch?"

"Of course," Danny said. His friend had the decency to look faintly embarrassed. "But maybe we could make things a little more challenging. A new rule to play by. Of course, if you think it might give us too great an edge, you being dames and all, we don't have to do it. It's just a suggestion."

Katherine laughed again. She seemed to do that a lot, but it wasn't a sincere laugh, like when Lizzie laughed. It didn't seem to come in the right places. "Don't be silly, of course we don't mind a little challenge. Right, Alice?"

"Right," Alice agreed. She didn't sound as confident as her friend. "What's your new rule?"

"We each pick a half of the table," he said. "You ladies take one half, we take the other. After the break, we're not allowed to cross that half-way line. Not even to make shots. All of it has to be done from our own side, and if anyone crosses the line, the game is forfeit."

"That does sound challenging," said Katherine. Her eyes said she was taking it as a personal challenge, even though it was mostly Alice's flirting with his friend that he wanted to curb. And Alice, being shorter, would find it harder to make shots from the other half of the table despite being the better player of the two. "What do you say, Alice? Should we give the boys a fighting chance this time?"

"Why not. And whilst we're setting up the table, you can buy our drinks. We're both on gin and tonic with ice."

Danny ushered his friend to the bar where they ordered drinks for the girls and two more glasses of ale for themselves. As the barman started pouring drinks, he said, "We need to start strategising. Setting up our shots to leave each other the best chance. Or at the very least, leave the women in a difficult position."

"Don't you think you're taking this a little seriously?" Barnes asked. "It's just a game!"

"I don't like losing," he replied.

"I know. You always did take bets and wagers too seriously. It's not like you have anything to prove, you know."

"Of course I don't have anything to prove! But I still don't want to lose. So I need you to remember that your brain is up here," he said, rapping his knuckles on his friend's head. "At least with the new rule in play, Alice won't have you wrapped around her little finger. If we do lose again, it won't be because of dames cheating."

"I hardly think it's cheating. You're being overly dramatic."

"I bet Agent Carter wouldn't resort to cheating," he pointed out.

"You don't even like Agent Carter!"

"I don't like her as a person, no. But I respect her as a soldier. If she wins something, she wins it on skill, fair and square. She wouldn't resort to such underhanded tactics as flirting with a guy just to distract him."

"She can't be flirting with me because she likes me?" Barned asked, suddenly coming off all offended, like Danny was the one in the wrong!

"Of course she can, pal," he said. Poor guy clearly couldn't see what was happening even though it was right in front of his nose. "And she probably does like you. It's just the timing of it seems off to me. You know I can be a little paranoid at times."

He snorted. "A little. Sure. But fine, I'll get my head in the game this time. Tell you what… let's make a deal. We win this one, and then we take the girls dancing, like they wanted. They've just got into London off their ship, so they probably haven't had fun for ages. Sound fair?"

"I suppose." And it would be nice to dance with someone, even if it was a blonde that he wasn't truly interested in. Might help to take his mind off other things. "Fine, it's a deal. Win this next game and your reward is dancing with dames."

"Great. Then let's get started!"

: - - - — — — - - - : - - - — — — - - - : - - - — — — - - - :

Bucky carried the womens' drinks over and handed them off with smiles. It was the least he could do after Wells had been so rude to them. It wasn't normally like his friend to be rude to dames, but he was very competitive, and was a sore loser to boot, so that didn't help the situation.

"Here you go, ladies," he said. "Two gin and tonic, with ice. I hope you enjoy them; it was a well-deserved victory, and you both made some great shots."

"Your friend doesn't seem to think so," Alice pointed out.

"Ignore him, he was hit on the head too many times on the front lines." He glanced down at the insignia on her uniform, wishing he actually knew anything about the Wrens, or the Royal Navy in general. He knew a little about the Air Force, because Stan was a talker once he had a few drinks in him and had regaled him with old flying stories on several occasions, but he didn't know much about naval tradition. "I'm not really well versed about the ranks in the Wrens," he admitted. "I don't know whether or not I should be saluting you right now."

She reached up to pinch his cheek, a gesture that was both soft and mildly painful. "Don't worry about rank. We're off duty for the next few days. I'd much rather talk about anything other than war right now. Such as how long you're going to stand here on our half of the table while your friend glares at your back."

He glanced over his shoulder and Wells pointedly tapped his watch with his finger.

"Guess it's time to start," he said. "Good luck."

Alice laughed. "Thanks, but I think you'll need it more."

He rejoined Wells and accepted the pint of ale that his friend handed over. He'd told Wells that he didn't want anything serious, didn't want anyone waiting at home worrying over his return, and that was true. But there was no danger here. After their furlough or shore leave or whatever the hell the Navy called it, the women would head back to their posts and set sail once again. And that made it different. Maybe in a week they'd be in a completely different port, having fun with whatever soldiers were stationed there. Playing games, dancing, enjoying spending time with a dame… so long as it ended at fun, it didn't have to be something he avoided. Not like Antje. She was not someone who would be satisfied with fun. Not somebody who deserved only that.

Katherine took the opening shot, breaking the set up nicely. After her turn, Alice stepped up and potted a stripe, but the shot left the cue ball in a position that was tricky for Katherine to deal with when they swapped turns. The blonde made a shot that struck a stripe, but didn't sink it, so now it was the turn of the men. The cue ball was on their side of the table.

"You take the first shot," Bucky told Wells quietly. "I know you might struggle to reach with your injured arm if the ball goes over to the other side. So you make this one while it's easy."

"Okay," Wells agreed. "I'm going for that solid in the left corner. I'll try to leave the cue ball to set you up for the three-solid in the side pocket."

He watched as his friend approached the table and angled himself for the best shot. Maybe he'd been too hard on him. Yes, Wells took some things way too seriously despite being the biggest bullshitter in the world, but he wasn't an idiot, and he had a way of seeing solutions to problems before Bucky even had chance to think. The number of times his ability to plan on the fly had saved not only Bucky's bacon, but that of the rest of the 107th, likely needed two hands for tallying. And Wells made pool look effortless, just like he made sleeping in hammocks, and smoking, and storming bunkers, look effortless. No amount of pressure ever seemed to faze him, and that was something he'd missed.

He made the shot and sank the ball without any problems, and Bucky took over. Wells had done an adequate job of leaving the while in an accessible place, and the next solid went in as planned. Unfortunately, that left the cue ball on the other side of the table, and almost entirely surrounded by stripes. Wells did his best, but scored a foul.

And so the game went. Shots were more difficult with only one side of the table usable, and there were many more fouls this time than there had been in the previous game. The girls seemed to be taking the game just as seriously as Wells, and were putting up a good fight. A few men drifted over from the nearest tables to watch events unfold. They'd never seen this type of handicap before, and as he watched the table, he heard a few of them commenting quietly on how they might have played it differently. It was likely that by the end of the night, a few of them would be trying it out just to overcome the challenge.

Almost before Bucky knew it, it was the final play. They each had two balls left on the table, and the black eight-ball was sitting right in front of a corner pocket, a juicy target for the first team that needed to sink it. The girls currently had the table, and only Wells' death-grip on his cue betrayed any tension he felt. Of course, it wouldn't be the end of the world if they lost. Buying drinks for a couple of pretty dames was not some major chore, nor would it break the bank.

Alice smiled at him as she hitched her skirt up a couple of inches to allow her to perch on the edge of the table to reach for her next shot. It was in what was likely the worst position for her, right at the other side of the table at an angle that meant she'd need to bounce the ball off a buffer in order to hit a stripe. Still, despite the technical challenge of making the shot, the shot itself shouldn't be too difficult. The right angle, the right force, and the girls would be on the home stretch.

She lined the ball up in her sights. Drew her arm back. And as she released her cue forward, she jumped and let out a little squeal. The cue ball bounced off the side and completely missed hitting anything. A clear foul.

"I don't know what happened," she said to Katherine, as she took her place next to her friend. "I thought I felt a cool breeze brushing up my skirt, and it distracted me as I took the shot."

That was weird. He hadn't felt any breeze. But then, it was likely the skirts the Wrens wore were nowhere near as protective as the pants of men. He definitely wouldn't enjoy feelin' all those breezes down there.

With the table open, Wells was up to take the next shot. He pocked a solid easily, and Bucky took his place at the table. Just one ball left before black. If he made this, Wells wouldn't have any problems sinking the eight ball and winning the game for them. Was it fair to ask dames to pay for their drinks? No. But at the same time, if he threw the game, Wells would refuse to go dancing, and he'd probably sulk for days. It would not make for a harmonious time. So maybe the only way to compromise was to be chivalrous, much as his friend complained about it. They would win the game, but he wouldn't let the girls buy his drink. That was a fair compromise.

He sank the ball. Wells replaced him, and hit the black square to send it into the corner pocket that it had been waiting by so patiently. The game ended, and everyone watching clapped. It had been close. If not for that gust of wind, the girls might have won.

"Well played," Katherine offered. "I must admit, that new rule was fun. It definitely made things more interesting!"

"Yes," said Alice. "It really evened out the table, didn't it? Now, if I recall, we're the ones who owe you drinks. So what'll it be?"

"Honestly, I'm fine," Bucky told them. "I don't expect you to buy the next round."

"I do," Wells butted in. "I'm on rum. Dark, not white. Neat with no ice. And make it a double."

The girls headed off to the bar, and Bucky took his friend a little further away, out of earshot. "You can't make them buy you drinks, Wells!"

"I'm not making them do anything, Barnes. We had a wager. Loser buys drinks. We lost and bought their drinks. Now they lose and you want to pretend like the wager was meaningless? What's the point in even making the wager if you're not gonna honour it? Seriously, you have some strange ideas about dames. It's not like the wager was that they've gotta take you somewhere quiet and give you the ol' sailor's handshake—it's just a drink."

He didn't get chance to reply, because Alice returned with two glasses of rum, and Katherine with two more gin and tonics. "Here," Alice said as she handed a drink to each of them. "In congratulations of a well played match."

"I don't wanna take your drink," Bucky told Alice again. "Really."

"Oh? You think our money isn't as good as yours?"

"Of course it is, but—"

"How are you going to join in our toast if you've nothing to drink?" Katherine said. "Or do you respect us so little that you can't even do that?"

Ugh, He should'a known they'd be awkward about it. Dames could be like that sometimes. Mary-Ann was the same. His sister wouldn't take no for an answer if something had been agreed, and he very much suspected these two would give Mary-Ann a run for her money.

"Okay." He took the glass from Alice, and Wells accepted his too. "What are we toasting?"

"The night," said Alice, treating him to another mischievious smile. "And whatever wicked deals the darkness conceals."

"And the war," Katherine added. "To Hitler's downfall, and the rise of both England and America."

They clinked glasses and drank. Wells downed his rum in one, and Bucky followed suit.

"So," Katherine said. "I think this has been a good start. Now, do either of you know how to dance?"

: - - - — — — - - - : - - - — — — - - - : - - - — — — - - - :

When Bucky stepped outside of the pool hall, the warm night air hit him like a punch to the gut. New York could be hot in summer, but London was humid. Somehow, that was worse. Suddenly he felt like he'd drank an entire bottle of rum, and not just one glass. The road lurched before him, then began to sway from side to side, like it was dancing to some rhythm he couldn't hear. The one thing that kept him steady was Alice's arm, linked within his. Sure she was small, but she was like an anchor that stopped him from swaying with the road.

"Look," Wells said, pointing up at the sky as he too swayed his way down the road with a dame on his arm. "The stars are out. I think that one is the Big Dipper."

"We call that 'The Plough'," said Katherine.

"Do you like the stars, Bucky?" Alice asked him.

"Sure." He stared up at their twinkling lights. "Just like home. Kinda." Hawkins and his brother Drew had enjoyed watching the stars. They used to blow smoke rings around them.

Why was he thinking of that now?

The girls led them on through the streets, and that pleasant drunk feeling started to sink its fingers into Bucky's mind. It had been a long time since he'd felt like that. Pleasant drunk was not much like whisky drunk, which he'd practiced for weeks after gettin' outta Krausberg. No, this was a different type of drunk. A relaxed type of drunk. Not entirely unlike the time he'd eaten a load of benzedrine and spent a day or two being friends with everything, including the book that'd tried to send words to bite his fingers.

"Do you know what benzedrine is?" he asked the woman leading him.

She smiled, and he could've lost himself in that. "Never heard of it. Why, do you want some?"

He nodded. "I had it once. Kinda miss it."

"What about you, hun?" Katherine asked. She was guiding Wells, who was staring up at the stars as if trying to memorise every one of them. "Do you like this benzedrine stuff?"

"He never had it," Bucky said. "But he likes the sky." Maybe the sky was like benzedrine to Wells. Who knew? Guy was crazy, after all.

The sound of the pool hall fell away, replaced by the gentle lapping of the Thames as it wound its way through the city. It was a big city. Hard to know where you were, unless you could see a street sign. But he hadn't seen any street signs. In fact, the streets had given way to alleys, and they tottered unsteadily down narrow dark things that wound this way and that, dark rabbit warrens made out of cobbles and brick.

"Where are we going?" he asked. Or tried to. His tongue felt fuzzy. Large. Too big for his mouth to contain. The stars up above seemed to be laughing at him. They were horrible things, stars. Why didn't they just come down here and challenge him to an honest fight?

"Dancing," Alice said. "You want to dance, don't you?"

He nodded. Yes. Dancing was something he used to do, and it had been a while since he'd done it last. How long? A year, maybe more. He'd gone dancing in Plymouth, with a girl called… Emily? Clara? Rebecca? Sarah? Who even knew. But she'd been a sweet girl, and it had been a fun evening.

"Hey Wells," he said. Or thought he said. "What was the name of that girl? The one in Plymouth, that I danced with."

Wells looked at him, his eyes vacant. A moment later he said, "I think it was Barbara."

Barbara. Yes. Of course. How could he have forgotten? He'd called her Barb, hadn't he? Or something like that. Maybe.

The Thames to his left smelt like rotten fish. It made his stomach want to hurl all his contents. Why couldn't the girls smell it? Why weren't they gagging at the stench?

"I think I need a moment," he said to Alice.

Her eyes said 'no'. But she smiled coaxingly. "We're almost there. Just a little further. Then you can rest."

Rest. Yes, that sounded good. This didn't feel like benzedrine anymore. Benzedrine made him happy and made him want to walk forever. Right now he felt sick, but also empty. Like all his thoughts were tumbling out of his head, and he didn't know how to get them back. Not like benzedrine at all. That had been too many thoughts. This was not enough. Stupid rum. Why did it make him feel like this? He was never gonna drink it again.

"I don't know this place," said Wells. He'd stopped in the middle of the street and was staring around, peering at all the buildings. "Where are we?"

"We're going dancing, remember?" Katherine said. Her voice was soothing. It said, nothing is wrong. Trust me. "This is a shortcut."

Of course the girls would know shortcuts. They were from England. They probably knew all the best… shortcuts. It made sense. No point taking a long-cut if you could take a short-cut. That was just stupid, and if there was one thing James Buchanan Barnes was not, it was stupid. He wasn't entirely sure the same couldn't be said about his friend, though.

The street continued to lurch. He tried to speak, to ask to sit down, but his mouth refused to operate. The buildings around him rose up like gigantic tombstones, an entire graveyard in one street. Because of… bombing? Right? Yeah, that sounded about right. All of London was a burial ground because the Luftwaffe made graves outta houses. He and Wells oughta have stayed in Plymouth. They should've moved in with Mae… or whatever her name was… and been kept safe.

"Hurry up!"

The words were hissed back at him. He looked ahead, to the two forms lurching in front of him. Was one of them blonde? Or was it a halo? Was she an angel?

"I'm trying!" These words were said near to him. Right by his side. "It's not working as fast for this one."

This one? This one what? He glanced down, and Alice smiled up at him. She looked worried, but said, "It's okay, we're almost there. Just one more street."

Bucky nodded. One more street. Then dancing.

But the street fought him. The cobbles became mountains he had to scale; every step, a climb. His legs were no longer connected to his body, strangers that objected to everything he asked of them, unwilling participants in this trek down the cobbled mountain.

Houses lined each side of the street, looming tall, surrounding him like… like playground bullies. But he was not Steve. He could fight back He would defend himself. Lurching towards one of them, he raised his fists in front of him, preparing himself for the fight.

"Whoa, easy there, hun," said Alice, her hands on his arm suddenly much stronger than he remembered. "I know you're keen to get dancing, but we've got to find the right place. Here it is, see? This blue door. That's where we need to go."

Nodding, he let her lead him onwards. She was right. The door was blue, and it had a brass name plaque attached to it. He reached out to touch it, but whatever name had once been inscribed there had long since been scratched off, and there were no letters left to bite him. That was good.

Alice brought out a key and unlocked the door, then let it swing open in front of him. There was a short hallway, which she led him down, then opened a door to her right. The ballroom he'd been expecting was absent. Just a few feet of rough, unpolished floorboards that terminated very quickly in steps which led down into darkness. It didn't seem like the kinda place a whole lotta dancing occurred. In fact, there was no music at all. No welcoming light, no sound of revelry, not even a single dancer in sight. The corridor swam, and not in a good way. When he held out his arm to steady himself against the wall, it seemed to move out of his reach. And Alice led him forward, towards the steps. Surely there couldn't be dancing in the basement… could there?

He peered down. Nothing but darkness and cool air. He opened his mouth to say they'd come to the wrong place, but a strong force pushed him from behind, impacting his back between his shoulder blades and unbalancing his already unbalanced hold on gravity. A yell escaped his lips as the stairs rose up to meet him, then his world went black.

Author's Note: Uh-oh. All of you (Nessah, Karina, Guest) who predicted hustling and ass-kicking were not far wrong :(

Guest 10101010 - For excellent Philip K. Dick novels I heartily recommend Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (the inspiration for the movie 'Blade Runner', except the book is better) and A Scanner Darkly. Also The World Jones Made, if you enjoy the first two.

Bonecreaker - Danny and Luna Lovegood meeting would be pretty weird, I imagine. I think if they both met when they were kids they'd probably be great friends, as Luna enjoys her flights of fancy and Danny enjoys having friends who go along with his flights of fancy.

Rayne - Steve is a hero to an entire nation, so I thought it would be nice to show him as a hero to the little people, too. After all, you don't need to save the world to be a hero - you just have to make a difference in somebody's life.

Kaylee - I don't know the term, but I googled it, and can totally understand the sentiment. I mean, who invited girls into this story, right? :D And ZOMG I can't believe I missed my 1-millionth word milestone! Though to be fair I've written some chunky author notes recently, so maybe it's only legit a million with this chapter. So yay me, a million words! Hopefully I can get this story wrapped up by 2027 XD

RRR - Exactly, Steve is a hero of little stuff as well as big stuff. Like how after the blip he basically becomes Sam and started counselling people, because when there's no bad-guy ass left to kick, all you can do is try to help people pick up the pieces. Cheers muchly for the Wells-love, too. He's a lot of fun to write, which is one of the reasons I even started this story in the first place. I'm not sure the notification thing is a you problem though, as I'm also not receiving notifications of story updates, chapter reviews, or basically anything. I think the website is breaking.