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gloryofroses19 · 2 months

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They Can't Take That Away From Me

The men and women of Thorpe Abbots base called the hours between 0001 and 0200 the calm before the storm. Where the enlisted men, crew and planes were tucked safely in their beds and the airfields were the quietest. Or they were meant to be, however, if someone were to listen closely, they’d hear the soft murmur of voices trying not to get caught and laughter that can’t be quelled.

Placing her hands in the pockets of her borrowed jacket, [y/n] giggled lightly as her fingers brushed the inner contents.

“What's got you giggling over there? This is very serious business.” Coming around the side of the plane, Major John Egan stopped in front of Lieutenant [your full name].

“Yes, sneaking onto the airfield and into your plane is very serious business.” [y/n] agreed in a grave tone before leaning towards the pilot. “However, what I’m wondering is why my missing lipstick is in your pocket. Any comments?”

“You’re gonna have to wait until Interrogation, ma’am.” Although the light from Bucky's flashlight offered little, [y/n] caught the blush overtaking the brunette's ears. She had lost it last week when they unexpectedly hid under a desk in the Control Tower after sneaking in to watch the stars. Peering at her companion, [y/n] considered when he could have found it. Between returning back from Africa hours ago, going to interrogation, an Upper Brass meeting, dinner, and drinks at the club, there was little if any time for John to return to his billet to retrieve her lipstick…Unless he had it with him the entire trip to Africa.

“So…the back is open so we can go in there.” The attempt to change topics and refusal to make eye contact, gave [y/n] the confirmation she needed. How sentimental of him, [y/n] mused as her fingers danced along his wrist. Drawing his attention to hers, [y/n] pressed closer to the pilot. The relationship wasn’t new, they had been an unofficial pair since early on. But the kissing was new and it was too easy to get lost in the feeling of John Egan. Grounding herself by holding onto the lapels of his uniform blazer, she let John kiss her, sweet and raw, until her breath ran out.

“No,” [y/n] gasped when they finally parted. “I was promised the full experience”.

With a final swipe of her finger against his swollen lips, [y/n] attempted to catch her breath. However, she all but lost it again at the look of adoration reflected in John’s eyes.

He should have known to expect nothing less from her, his girl was always capable and courageous. Placing a kiss to her forehead before wrapping an arm around her shoulders, the pilot led the way to the front hatch. “Alright sweetheart, it’s all yours.” Shooting her a cocky grin, he motioned towards the hatch, “You said you wanted the full experience so here it is.”

The height difference between them had always been a point of attraction for them both. However, staring at the distance to the front hatch, she knew his attraction was turning into amusement at this very moment. "Need a boost, doll?"

Following multiple attempts, unhelpful laughter, teasing remarks, heated kisses and a risque hand placement on her bottom, the woman found herself inside a dark B17. When John had offered the idea, many missions and compliments ago, it had seemed like a tantalizing idea. An enclosed space with the handsome pilot who basked in her attention, why wouldn’t she want it? But running her fingers over the bullet holes lining the wall of the plane, she felt a shiver run down her spine at her naivety.

Turning towards the noise, she watched the pilot join her. As a natural showman, John Egan swung himself into the plane with ease and grace.

“Show off.” [y/n] remarked as the pilot pecked her on the lips. [y/n] didn’t mind the limited space between them. She had already stolen his sheepskin jacket, she wouldn’t mind stealing more from him; body heat or kisses, she wasn’t picky.

Offering a smirk in reply, John started moving toward the cockpit. “Watch your head, doll.”

Shining the light at his receding backside, [y/n] followed. “I hope you say that to all your men.”

“Only the prettiest ones.”

“It’s a good thing you and Gale don’t copilot then or else I’d be jealous.” The deep rumble of his laughter felt like a nice reprieve to the stagnant darkness in the plane. Since meeting John, [y/n] had always been thankful for the brevity he had offered her, no more than now inside the plane which felt suffocatingly like a tomb.

“Left or right?” Entering the cockpit, John paused before placing the flashlight on the center console.

“You always sit on the right.” She answered matter of factly as she brushed past him to take the left seat.

Following suit, he sat down in his usual seat. “Yeah, but I’m a gentleman.” He responded with an air of playful innocence. Though he didn’t feel that way inside, he hoped she didn’t notice it. When he suggested the idea, he wanted to offer another piece of himself to her. She had read the manuals, helped plan missions and sat in the Upper Brass meetings but he wanted her to understand why he flew. Why at one point, it had been something he loved before this damn war took that away along with his men.

With a hand gently cupping his cheek, John titled his head to the left to kiss the palm holding him with such care. He knew it had been naive to think she would let him get away with the false sense of bravado. She knew, she always knew.

“How do you do it?” Refusing to meet her eyes, he answered her question hanging in the air, “Wait for me, I mean.” The intimacy of the admission left him feeling raw. Neither of them joined the war effort thinking they’d find love but they did.

“How does that Billie Holiday song go?” She considered, looking out the window. She knew he considered himself selfish in his love for her. Selfish because she offered him a place to call home amongst all the turbulence of war and in return he left her time and time again with no promise of a safe return. Selfish because he considered himself worthy when he was useful and leaving was never useful.

Hoping to convey that he gave her so much, and was worth more than use, she spoke in a resolute tone. “The way your smiles just beams. The way you sing off key. No, no, they can't take that away from me”.

She watched the smile across his face. Music was his language of love after all.

Meeting her in the middle, he left a narrow gap between them. One inch closer and he’d be able to steal another kiss. However, he wasn’t so easily bought. “Uh no, no way my girl doesn’t commit.”

Shooting him a pout, [y/n] knew she had no choice. Gathering her breath, she repeated the lines with as much fervor and commitment she could muster, albeit horridly off key.

“Ah, that’s my girl!” John beamed before closing the gap between them.

#bucky egan x reader #john egan x reader #major john egan x reader #john egan imagine #john egan x female reader #mota fanfic #masters of the air x reader #masters of the air imagine #mota x reader

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 3 months

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I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 9

AO3

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

A/N: Sorry this chapter took a while! Please enjoy some filler fluff as a reward for your patience

The January cold was a biting, painful thing, with the uncanny ability to burrow its way deep beneath any clothing, regardless of the layers everyone at Thorpe Abbotts had desperately piled on for protection. Thick, wool socks and scarves were always in order, and a few of the elderly women in the village had begun to make a pretty penny by selling them on to disgruntled pilots who had never before experienced winter outside of California.

Major Kidd had given her Egan's sheepskin jacket. Well, he less gave it to her than he did leave it in the mechanics' hut for her, but she appreciated the gesture nevertheless. The sleeves were too long, but she made do, as it was loose enough on her to fit comfortably over her work overalls. Combined with the wool tights she'd stolen from George, and the fingerless gloves she'd found at the bottom of a drawer somewhere, the weather was almost bearable. Almost.

It had snowed overnight. There was too much ice on the roads to cycle without endangering life and limb, so Frankie had been forced to commandeer a phone and summon Lemmons in one of the jeeps. The man had looked so miserable upon his arrival, that it had been impossible not to laugh. Hat tugged down past his eyebrows, scarf pulled up over his chin, his face was only half visible, and what sliver she could see was contorted in a frown. His gloves were made of bright orange wool, and she suspected the women in the village had run out of the more appealing colours by the time he sought them out. Grinning to herself, she clambered into the jeep, stomping snow off of her boots as she sat down.

"I don't like this country anymore, Frankie," Ken complained, voice muffled by his scarf.

She laughed. "Oh, sweetheart, if you think this is bad..."

He was stricken with a look of complete and utter fear, and Frankie let out a snort. "It gets worse?"

"Probably!"

This information put him in a foul mood for the rest of the drive, muttering and grumbling to himself about 'goddamn snow' and 'goddamn ice' as they pulled up to the runway, tyres gouging fresh marks into the undisturbed blanket of white. They were both left sorely wishing they had finished their work the night before when the weather had been more palatable, but there was no getting around what they had to do now.

The metal of the planes' exteriors was frozen to the touch, bare fingertips left raw and red as they worked away at replacing and tightening various bolts and rivets, breath blooming in frozen clouds in front of their faces. Every five minutes they would have to step away from whatever they were doing and run a few laps around the place just to warm themselves up, aware of what a ridiculous sight they must have made.

"Think they'll go up again tomorrow?" Ken asked, panting as he jogged on the spot behind Frankie, occasionally pausing to throw in a few star jumps.

"Not if the weather doesn't clear up - they'll need better skies than this if the navigators want to get anywhere," She shrugged, pausing halfway through tightening another bolt to jump up and down, attempting to restore feeling to her legs.

"Everyone else is in bed right now," He complained.

"Lucky bastards."

The pair must have appeared entirely absurd, chatting away with stony, irritated expressions as they stomped and jumped around entirely out of synch, and they counted themselves lucky that there wasn't a single other soul out there that morning to bear witness. A lit cigarette hung from between Frankie's lips, the embers only just succeeding in warming her face. Their cheeks and noses had both turned red after only an hour out in the cold, and by the end of their second, neither could justify staying outside any longer.

Kicking the snow off their boots, they shut themselves in the mechanics' hut, the light that hung from the ceiling swaying in the drafty breeze - the result of a ceiling gap that they were unable to locate. Turning on the gas stove that was usually only used to make terrible coffee, the pair pulled up their chairs beside it, holding their frozen hands above the small flame until feeling returned to their fingers.

"I forgot to ask you about your Christmas," Frankie huffed, rubbing her palms together, creating heat from the friction.

"That was nearly a month ago," He pointed out.

"I know. Just felt a bit bad about not asking."

"It was good, yeah. Sammy's folks had a goose, I dunno where they got it from," Lemmons chuckled, pausing for a moment. When he spoke again, there was a glimmer of something in his eye. "How was your Christmas?"

She frowned at him. "I told you before. Good."

"...Mhm."

A sudden knock at the door took them both by surprise, heads snapping towards the unexpected sound. Brows furrowed, they glanced at one another, neither one wanting to get up from their spot beside the stove. "Door's open!" Ken called.

They could hear the sound of someone awkwardly fumbling with the door handle, and Frankie was about to get up when it finally opened. Rosie had to use his foot to pry his way inside, a steaming cup of Red Cross coffee in each hand as he shuffled through, flakes of snow still resting unmelted in his hair. His face was flushed pink, and he wasn't wearing anywhere near enough clothes to protect him from the cold, snow encrusting the soles of his boots.

"Hey!" Frankie beamed, pulling up another chair for him between her and Lemmons. "Jesus, were you trying to get hypothermia?"

"Brought coffee," He said simply, voice still slightly shaky as he sat down, holding the tin mugs out to the mechanics. "And uh-" Reaching into his pocket, Rosie produced a crumpled paper bag containing a couple of doughnuts. "Don't tell Helen. Was only supposed to take one."

"Gee, thanks, Cap," Lemmons nodded gratefully, shooting Frankie a pointed stare that she pretended not to have noticed. She nodded in agreement, both hands wrapped around her cup, feeling the heat seep through the metal. The Red Cross coffee always tasted so much better than the crap they had in the mechanics' hut, and she resisted the urge to grin at the gesture, especially as she realised he had brought nothing for himself.

They drank in silence for a while, the only sound the jagged, laboured breathing of one trying to wear off a chill. "...So, uh..." Rosie began, hands folded in his lap as he looked between the others. "...Work going well?"

"Y'know, I can go somewhere else if you guys want," Ken pointed out, peering at them over the rim of his mug.

"No!" "No!" Frankie and Rosie blurted simultaneously, assuring him hurriedly. "You need to keep warm, Ken," She told him.

He had slurped down his coffee quickly, the winter cold cooling it down so that it wouldn't burn his throat. Shaking his head, he pushed his chair backwards out of the little semi-circle they had created, scraping loudly across the floor. "The fuel cans we asked for arrived yesterday, I should go pick them up before I forget."

"You sure?" Frankie asked, getting up to trail after him as he made his way to the door. "The snow'll probably start melting soon, you should wait until it's not so icy."

"No, no. Now's good," Lemmons nodded determinedly, smirking at her as he opened the door, a gust of cold wind blowing its way inside. "Thanks again for the coffee, Rosie!"

"No problem, Ken," He nodded, tipping an imaginary cap at him as the mechanic disappeared outside.

Frankie paused a moment to process what had happened before letting out a huff of laughter. Rosie was still sat beside the stove, watching with a smile as she crossed the room towards him. She leant down, and he craned his head up to meet her, their lips meeting in a quick kiss, as casual and comfortable as a long-married couple.

"He definitely knows," She pointed out, lowering herself back into her seat and propping her legs up across his lap, his elbows resting gently on them.

"Oh yeah," Rosie nodded in agreement. "Have you properly told anyone yet? Only, I haven't - I was waiting until you wanted to."

"Oh, I've only told George, she won't tell anyone. But I tell her literally everything, so y'know."

"Yeah, yeah, I expected that," He continued nodding, pausing after a moment as a stricken look of realisation crossed his face. "Wait, does that mean you told her about when we-"

"No! No, not about that, Jesus," Frankie giggled, nose creasing as she took another sip of her coffee. A smile spread across Rosie's expression as he took a moment to actually take in her appearance, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the hem of her trousers.

"... Is that Egan's jacket?"

"Mhm," She hummed, wiping her top lip as she put down her mug. "Kidd left it for me. It doesn't fit-" Frankie flapped the ends of her sleeves to illustrate the point, making him chuckle. "-but the thought was nice."

"God, I absolutely humiliated myself the first time I met Egan," Rosie shook his head slightly, his cheeks reddening. "Kept talking about flying in my goddamn skivvies, I was pretty sure he only brought me to meet you so that you two could both laugh at the weird new Captain."

She laughed, taking one of his hands in hers, absent-mindedly twiddling his fingers as she spoke. "I'm sorry, you flew in your what?"

"Jesus, I'm doing it again, this is like a recurring nightmare. It gets real hot in Texas, right, so we practised flying in our underwear to stop us from over-heating - but of course I decided that was the best possible story to introduce myself to the Majors with. I mean, Christ, I still don't know what I was thinkin'."

"Well, the first time I met him I absolutely destroyed him in a drinking contest, so he's been offered his fair share of public humiliation."

"That... does help, actually," He admitted, and she grinned, running a hand through his hair and messing up his curls as she rose to her feet. His gaze followed her, tilting his head upwards, a few loose curls hanging in his face. "Where are you going?"

"Funny thing is, I actually have this thing called a job," Frankie teased, zipping up Egan's jacket as she headed for the door. "I have to, like, do it, and everything."

"Wow, that sounds really hard, I'm so impressed," Rosie replied flatly, a smirk curling his lip.

A gust of wind blew a cloud of snowflakes in through the door as she opened it, flipping her collar up to her chin against the breeze as she stepped outside. Lemmons was waiting there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and his unexpected presence startled her, snow crunching beneath her feet as she jumped, sucking in a sharp breath.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ken shrugged. "Thought I oughta give you a minute - didn't wanna interrupt anything private."

Frankie's eyes narrowed, glaring at him as they made their way back towards the hardstand. "Oh, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Can you seriously look me in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong?"

Turning on her heel, she stared at him, their gazes locked for a long, awkward moment of silence. She gnawed at her lip, saying nothing, until suddenly she broke, scoffing as she stomped away. "Fuck you, Ken."

"Told you!"

Before he could move, she had slung an arm around his neck, forcing him into a playful headlock. Lemmons squawked, wrestling against her unrelenting grip until he dug his fingers into her side, and she released him with a yelp, their hair both dusted white with snow.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It took three days for the weather to subside - three days of icy roads, relentless snowfall, and trying not to freeze on the hardstand. Every day like clockwork Rosie had brought the mechanics fresh, hot coffee, filling flasks with the stuff to satisfy more and more of the ground crews, who were growing steadily more irritable with each inch of snowfall. The pilots were grounded for the duration, but even the pub seemed too great of a trek under such circumstances. The only sanctuary was the small, cylindrical heaters inside the Nissen huts, and in the evenings many took to sitting around them to keep warm.

Early morning birdsong came as an unwelcome sound as Frankie's eyes peeled open, adjusting to consciousness as sunlight streamed in through the window above her bed. A gust of air hit her face as her bedsheets were ripped off of her, and she flinched as she waited for the sudden chill to grip her. But it didn't.

"George. What the fuck," She grumbled, pressing her palms against her eyelids as she sat up, hair knotted and sticking out at random angles on one side of her head.

"Get up. Snow's thawed, they'll be flying today."

The woman had a disturbing knack for always looking immaculate - golden hair falling in perfect curls, red lipstick that never smudged, and clothes that always fitted perfectly. George always told her that it was just that she put in the effort, but Frankie tended to suspect some sort of witchcraft.

"Well fuck me, in that case, why didn't you wake me up sooner?" She huffed, her hairbrush getting stuck halfway through a knotted patch. For a moment, she couldn't quite bear to deal with it, and just let it hang there, weighing down her scalp on one side.

"Thought you should get some beauty sleep before you see off your darling pilot," She teased, her voice taking on a sing-song quality. "Although admittedly, I wasn't expecting you to wake up looking like you'd been dragged sideways through a thornbush," George added, and Frankie let out a cry as she yanked on the hairbrush, dragging it forcefully through her hair until it fell straight.

"I'll drag you sideways through a bush in a minute," She muttered, rubbing at the sore spot on her scalp with one hand as she pulled on her coveralls with the other.

"I just think it took you long enough to finally snog him, you might as well try not to look like a dying cat whenever you see him."

"Oh, piss off!"

Huge meltwater puddles lined the roads on both sides, the grass reduced to muddy swampland, sodden with what remained of the snowfall. Frankie pedalled slowly, careful not to slip, calling out in greeting to the men who passed by in their jeeps, tyres kicking up water, spraying her legs and staining her trousers.

Her breaks screeched loudly to a halt as she stopped in front of a half-melted snowman on the side of the road, the last remaining evidence of the village children's play. Their laughter had filled the air since the first snowfall, the only remedy to the constant, freezing misery. The snowman's head was close to toppling off, its carrot nose drooping pathetically. She couldn't help but chuckle as one of the pebbles they had used for eyes slipped from its perch, landing with a thumb in the damp grass. She wondered if it had snowed back home, if Alice and Jill had made a snowman of their own. As a child, she'd used her mother's old scarf and gloves, the scent of perfume still lingering on them after so many years.

Another jeep rolled past, cutting it too close and too fast, a spray of puddle water splashing all the way up her back, the cold soaking through to her spine. Frankie let out a yelp, her train of thought lost as she flipped off the driver in his side mirror and began to pedal again, resuming her steady, cautious pace as the airstrip came into view.

The Riveters were gathered around their B-17 when she arrived, packs slung over their shoulders as they readied to board. Letting out a huge yawn, Frankie dismounted her bike, letting it lie on the tarmac as she approached, the uncomfortable stick of damp fabric against skin making her squirm. The moment Pappy saw her, he frowned. "D'you just get up? They've run the checks on our bus already, right?"

"Your plane's been ready to fly for days, Pap - I was out here in the snow making sure of it while you lot were warming your feet by the fire," She rolled her eyes, squeezing his shoulder as she passed.

Rosie was visibly fighting a grin as she approached, Bailey shooting him a confused look at his expression as he passed, clambering into the belly of the plane. One by one, the flight crew filed inside, hauling themselves up through the hatch in a series of grunts, until their Captain was the only one left standing on the tarmac. The moment they were alone, he let his smile show, a red tint flushing his cheeks. "Ma'am," He teased, tilting his cap at her as she approached.

Frankie smirked, stepping forward until their fronts were pressed together. "So... what number is this now?"

"Seventeenth mission," Rosie nodded.

"Hm. Not too shabby."

"Why thank you, dear," He grinned, leaning down to press his lips to hers. Just as Frankie began to reciprocate the kiss, a thought popped into his mind, and he pulled back, eliciting a tut of disappointment from her. "Y'know, I had this idea earlier that I'd bring you flowers, but it's too damn cold for 'em. Thought I'd let you know anyway, so you can appreciate the thought."

She hummed. "Duly noted," Grinning, she resumed the kiss, her teeth accidentally grazing his lip as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. Hands grasping at her back, his brow furrowed at the sudden dampness, but he figured she might send him away if he ruined the kiss again. He could smell the oil on her clothes, but the scent he had once found acrid now only succeeded in reminding him of her. Even miles up in the sky, hanging perilously over enemy territory, there was something calming in that smell, a constant tether to home.

The pair had been so engrossed in their embrace, that they had failed to notice Pappy reappearing through the hatch, sent to retrieve something they had forgotten in the jeep. But the moment his feet hit the tarmac, and he took in the scene before him, he froze, releasing a sort of strangled grunt that alerted them to his presence, springing away from each other, hands raised to wipe any evidence of the other from their mouths.

Wide-eyed in a mixture of shock and horror, he spoke in angry whispers, closing the hatch most of the way to muffle the sound. "Are you kidding me?!"

Rosie held up his hands as if begging for mercy. "Look, Pappy, I was gonna tell you, it's just-"

"I owe George so much money," Pappy huffed, running a hand across his brow.

Frankie frowned. "... You what?"

"We had drinks last week, we were betting on how long it'd take for... this to happen."

She resisted the urge to laugh, noticing how Rosie seemed to be suppressing a smile. "George already knew about this last week."

His expression was horror-stricken, face growing ever-redder with every second that passed. "... Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Rosie let out a chuckle. "I think you just got scammed, Pappy."

Brow furrowed, expression contorted in fury, Pappy muttered to himself in indecipherable fury as he marched over to the jeep, retrieved his forgotten cargo, and stomped back towards the plane, pausing briefly to interrupt his incensed murmuring. "Happy for you two. Or whatever," He sighed, waving a hand in their general direction as he failed to meet their eyes.

As soon as he was safely inside the plane and out of earshot, they collapsed into laughter, his utterly outraged frown seared into their minds. Rosie wheezed as he caught his breath, "I think George is using your friendship for evil," He pointed out, succumbing to laughter again as Frankie let out a cackle.

"I am not letting her collect on that debt," She shook her head, face flushed red, cheeks creased with a smile. Frankie looked up as she felt his hands against her face, palms cupping his cheeks as he brought her face to his, their foreheads simply resting against each other's as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"I will see you later," He spoke softly, the tip of his nose brushing against hers.

"Yeah, you better," She reached up, straightening his tie. "I'll be really pissed off otherwise."

"And we can't have that."

"Nope."

With one last smile, Rosie pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, and Frankie scoffed as he pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her hand. He smirked to himself as he climbed up into the plane, arms burning with the weight of his body as he hauled himself up through the hatch. Navigating his way through to the cockpit with ease, he slid into the pilot's seat, feeling Pappy's gaze burning into the side of his skull.

"...Yes Pappy?" He asked after a moment of silence, his co-pilot shaking his head side to side, never retracting his penetrating stare.

"I fuckin' knew it."

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #ken lemmons #pappy lewis #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man

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ginabaker1666 · 8 days

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The Way I Am

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Three

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

The realities of war begin to dig their way under the skin of the men and women at Thorpe Abbotts, leaving some with more on their shoulders than they'd care to carry. New and existing friendships help to brighten a dark day, while Val and Everett admit truth's they can only say to each other. Featuring @winniemaywebber's Olive Lewis from the Honeysuckle Rose series.

Part Two Follow along with the Eight To The Bar Playlist

Non-mision days were, naturally, a favorite of those who lived on Thorpe Abbotts airbase. A lot of the boys would still go up for practice missions, but it would leave a lot less what-if’s and nerves on the ground because the Luftwaffe was nowhere to be found, and the only thing they needed to worry about was taking off and landing safely. Those days, the Red Cross girls would still set up the Clubmobile for the boys, greeting them with coffee and donuts and a friendly smile as they trekked out to the hardstand. Today, almost all of the boys were going up on a practice run. They had already seen Brady and the M’lle Zig Zig crew, Bucky and the crew of Mugwump, followed directly by Buck Cleven and Our Baby. Benny DeMarco had lingered at the truck, the pilot infatuated with the newest Red Cross girl, Olive. Olive had seemingly come out of nowhere, according to Tattie, but the girls had wasted no time at all in taking her in, despite her accent and dry British humor, she fit in like a missing puzzle piece amongst them.

When Benny had asked if the girls would be willing to keep an eye on Meatball while they went up for practice, Olive was first out of the truck to greet the husky. Val suspected it was so that he didn’t actually go inside of the truck and make a mess of things like he somehow tended to do. When he got restless, Olive had offered to take him for a walk, and since it had been quiet, Val had ushered Helen off as well to keep Olive company. Tattie had taken the jeep to go pick up supplies for the truck on the other side of the base, which left Val alone.

“You running the show alone today?”

Val looked up from where she was reading her copy of Screen Romances to find Ev and Douglass standing in front of the Clubmobile. Dougie’s hands on his hips, a wide smile stretching across his mouth.

“Is my favorite Flyboy and his bombardier bringing up the rear today?” She smiled upon seeing them, her gaze immediately finding Everett’s from behind his aviators.

“Just coffee if you can spare it, Val.” Douglass requested, politely declining the donut she had pointed to.

“Oh, it’s okay for me to make you coffee again? I don’t need to go find Olive for you? She teased, already moving to pour him coffee from the carafe. Benny DeMarco wasn’t the only one who had taken a shine to Olive.

“I saw her on my way over,” He shook his head, but the smile remained. “She was with Helen and Meatball.”

“DeMarco asked us to keep an eye on him while you boys went up today, so the two of them took him for a walk.”

Val reached through the hatch with his coffee, the handoff seamless as he accepted the coffee, the cup immediately coming up to his lips.

“You’ve got the magic touch, Val.” He hummed, eyes closed in satisfaction.

“I won't tell Olive you said that.” She rolled her eyes with a shake of her head as he gave her a half hearted salute and cheeky smile, before turning and heading towards the hardstands.

Everett remained by the truck, flight gear and sheepskin jacket making him look every bit the pilot that she knew him to be. He was squinting up at her in the early morning sun, sunglasses now hanging from the pocket of his jacket. Even with his crush cap on, the sun was in his eyes. He looked like a little boy when he did that, and Val couldn’t help but find him utterly adorable.

“Coffee for the road, handsome?” She grinned, holding a cup up, nodding her head towards the back of the truck where the doors were open.

He smiled and moved around, meeting her at the back and stepping up on the first step, as she came to stand in front of him.

“Hmm did you make it the way I like it?”

“You mean, did I leave it black? Yes, Everett, I did.”

“Someone woke up on the sassy side of the bed this morning.” He watched as she pulled her hand back, holding the coffee away from him.

“This is going to cost you, Captain.” She grinned.

“Oh yeah? How much then, Miss Val?”

“Hmmm I’m thinking it’s at least worth a good morning kiss.”

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I refused payment?”

Stepping up one more step, he came as close as he could so she wouldn’t have to lean down, and gently, carefully, dropped a hand to her waist to steady her before planting his lips on hers. The kiss was quick, but not without feeling. The pair were very much aware that they were on working hours when he was flying and she was at the truck, so they tried not to get too carried away. But, still, he hated to go up if only for practice, without giving her a proper goodbye.

“Payment accepted.” Val grinned as they parted, her hand falling to rest over his that remained on her waist, the other handing over his coffee before she spilled it.

“Thank you,” His smile was wide as he took the cup from her hand, taking a sip and sighing as the liquid warmed him. “Perfect.”

“I don’t see how, there’s nothing in it!” She eyed his coffee skeptically.

“I wasn’t talking about the coffee, sweetheart.”

“Oh, well, in that case I’m inclined to agree with you.”

He was about to reply when Douglass appeared around the back of the truck, head sticking out from behind where the doors were open, just over Everett’s shoulder.

“Not that I’m not enjoying getting to drink my coffee but, we can’t get moving without the pilot, pal.”

“Dougie, you have the worst timing.” Ev sighed, shaking his head as Val laughed at the pair. Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder if they were the couple and she was just third wheeling.

“Go on,” She urged him, stepping down from the truck to guide him towards where he needed to be. “You have to fly and I need to clean up here.”

“I’ll see you later, yea?” He dropped a quick kiss to her cheek just to see her smile again.

“Yes, either after you get back or at the club later with the girls. Now, be safe up there, okay?”

“You have my word.” He nodded.

“You have mine, too!” Douglass joined in.

“Christ sake,” She shook her head. “Both of you get a move on, I don’t want to hear Harding bellowing about how I held you up.”

At that, both boys turned, coffee in hand, and made their way to the hardstand to prep for their practice mission.

Climbing back into the Clubmobile, she began to clean up what she could; covering the donuts with a towel, and wiping down the counter so that it was free of any spilled milk or sugar. Once she was satisfied, and knew Tattie would be too, she promptly parked herself back in front of her magazine to pick up where she left off.

“Jeez, Val, don’t look so busy!”

Looking up she found Jack Kidd and Chick Harding, the taller of the men giving her his signature sarcastic scowl, which she was always happy to return. Ever since Bucky had been demoted from Air Exec, Jack seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face with most of the men. He had tried, once, to use it on her when he caught her and Ev saying goodbye at the truck, but Val had turned and given it back as good as she got. Jack had very quickly learned that while Tattie was in charge of the Red Cross girls, Val was the muscle, and if she was mad at you, heaven help the poor soul. Helen was starting to think Val and Jack just made faces at each other to see who could look meaner at this point, because it never lasted long before one of them broke and cracked a real smile.

“Wake up with a bug up your ass again, Jack?” She smirked, closing the magazine and leaning on her elbows out the hatch.

“I’m here and not home so, yea.”

“Aww, well, loosen up and I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Harding stood, amused, watching the two seemingly square off, before Val broke first, offering a genuine smile that Jack returned. At that, Chick stepped up to the hatch to get her attention.

“Valencia…”

“Chicky…”

“Jesus,” he huffed around his cigar, smoke billowing around him at her use of his unauthorized nickname. “Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, whatever you say, Chicky.”

Behind him, Kidd snickered, but quickly covered it with a cough.

“Valencia…” Harding warned.

“Fine…” It was long and drawn out. “You boys want coffee? I’ve got a few donuts left too.”

“Please,” Harding spoke, the words muffled around his cigar. “Why are you out here by yourself?”

“Helen and Olive took Meatball for a walk, and Tattie should be back any minute now. She took the jeep for supplies.”

“That damn dog get near the donuts again?” Harding tried to lift the towel she had placed over them, eyeing up the treats.

“No, he did not get near them.”

“Good, I’ll take one then.”

Shaking her head, she handed him his coffee and donut before she turned her attention to Jack. Before she could ask him what he wanted the sound of Tattie on the jeep filled the air.

“You two playing nice?” Tattie looked between Jack and Val.

“Yes, Tattie, don’t worry,” Kidd chuckled. “I know when I’m beat.”

Grinning, the brunette stepped off the jeep, the back loaded with supplies for the Clubmobile.

“Give me a second Tat and I’ll come help ya!” Val called out to her.

Nodding, Tattie grabbed the small box that had been resting on the front seat next to her and made her way into the Clubmobile, while Val finished up with the boys.

“Jack? Coffee?”

“Sure, Val, thanks.”

“Remind me again…”

“Just black.”

Nodding with a smile, Val poured him a cup, leaving it black. Plucking a donut from the tray, she handed him both, waving him off when he tried to protest at the donut.

“Go on, I can’t let them go to waste.”

“Appreciate it,” Kidd nodded. “You taking the rest out to the ground crew?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Good, those boys are working hard.”

With that, Chick and Jack gave her a wave before walking off back towards the control tower, where she had assumed Red was waiting for them. Watching them go, she quickly exited the truck and made her way to the jeep to help Tattie unload the boxes she had picked up. Helen and Olive should have been back, but knowing they had Meatball, it might have been a small blessing that they could unload the jeep without the husky getting under their feet for a bit.

“Red Cross sent more rations. Coffee and fixings to make more donuts for us,” Tattie groaned, lifting a box and walking it to the truck. “Looks like we’ve got enough sugar to get us through the next month or two at least.”

“That’ll keep the fellas happy.” She agreed.

“Nicked a few sweets for us girls, too.” Tattie winked as she stopped by the truck.

“Your last name does have its advantages.” Val laughed, giving the scarf tied around her head a quick fix.

“Mhmm, and you wouldn’t have been able to sweet talk the supply officer into a few Hershey bars?”

Before Val could reply, the sound of an engine far too close to where it should have been sounded above them, followed by a crash. The sound of the Land Girls screaming, and flames igniting in the trees out by the perimeter of the base caught their attention immediately, their faces turning to panic.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”

“Did you see what tail number it was?”

“No, I can’t see anything except smoke.”

“Get in the Jeep, come on.”

Tattie wasted no time jumping back behind the wheel, Val practically throwing herself into the seat beside her as they sped off to the hardstand. The fear was rising deep within her chest the closer they got, and she had to will herself to believe that Everett and his crew were not the ones ignited in flames somewhere in the trees. As if someone had their hand around her throat with no intention of letting up, she drew in ragged and uneven breaths.

“Val… deep breath doll, come on…” Tattie’s voice sounded far away, like she was underwater and couldn’t break through the surface.

“You girls shouldn’t be out here!” Ken Lemmons yelled as soon as Tattie parked the jeep by the Ground Crew.

“Kenny…” Val turned to him with wide eyes, and the nineteen year old had never seen someone he considered a spitfire, look so terrified.

“It’s Baynard and his crew.” He sighed, knowing her question before she had even asked it.

“Jesus…” The relief she felt melded with the sadness that slammed into her as she remembered handing Baynard and his Navigator their coffee that morning. He was one of the newer kids- anyone younger than her was a kid in her eyes- and hadn’t even flown a first mission yet.

“Took a turn too early and went into a dive, couldn’t pull himself out of it.”

“He was just a kid…” Val shook her head, trying to understand just how the world could be so cruel.

Tattie’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, and when Val turned to look at her friend, she noticed that she looked just as upset as she felt. The boys liked to joke that the girls could be the last pretty face they ever saw, and the reality of it seemed to hit the pair on them with the force of a thousand B-17’s.

“Tattie, let’s uh, let’s get back to the truck and let the boys uhm…”

“Yea, yea alright.” She put the jeep back into gear, and the two women sped off back towards the Clubmobile.

When they returned, the boxes they hadn’t finished unloading remained on the grass, Helen and Olive standing amongst them with Meatball eagerly sniffing at them.

“What the hell happened out there!” Olive yelled over the engine of the jeep.

“Baynard, he uh… him and his crew they…”

“Fuck sake! That was them?”

“Yea, it was them.” Val stepped out of the jeep with a sigh, immediately letting it support her body weight.

“We just saw them this morning…” Helen sighed, body slumped back against the Clubmobile.

Val could only nod, the fear that had her in a chokehold slowly beginning to subside. To think it could have been Everett, or Curt, had made her blood run cold. The idea of losing either of them was a reality she prayed to god she never had to face.

“Val? You alright?” Helen was suddenly in front of her, Val’s hand in her own, the woman trying to meet her eyes.

“Yea… just, scared shitless if I’m being honest.”

“Oh honey, I know…”

“Could have been either of them, Helen. And I’m not keen on being alone.”

“Oh chicken, you’ll never be alone. You’ve got us.” Olive joined them, taking Val’s other hand in her own, a soft smile on her face.

“I need to get used to being called chicken as a term of endearment.” Val laughed, dropping her head to Olive’s shoulder.

“There we go,” Olive grinned. “Feeling better?”

Nodding, Val pushed off from the jeep, moving to help with the rest of the boxes so that they could close up the truck and head off to the mess for lunch.

“Meatball! No!!”

The three girls looked over to where Tattie was standing, hands on her hips, as Meatball ripped into one of the boxes with his teeth.

“I’m going to kill DeMarco…” she sighed.

——————————————————————————————————

Exiting the Red Cross hut, Val and Olive were surprised to see Curt waiting outside for them. The pilot was dressed sharp, grinning from ear to ear as the girls spotted him.

“Can I walk ya to the club, Val?”

“You can; I’m hard pressed to ask what you want, Curt.”

“Honest to God, just wanna walk ya.”

“Curt?”

“Helen told me you were a bit rattled after today, and I just wanted to make sure you’re alright…”

Val stopped walking, turning to face Curt with a soft smile.

“Olive, I’ll catch up.”

“Okay,” She nodded. “I’ll save your seat.”

“Thanks.” Val turned to her friend, watching as she walked across to the club, immediately intercepted by Benny who had been waiting outside with Meatball.

Turning back to Curt, she saw him fidgeting with his sleeves before finding her gaze again.

“Curt, I’m alright. Honest…”

“Nah, I know you’re alright but, I wanted to just, double check, ya know?”

“Curt, are you alright?” His fidgeting was so unlike him that it had her worried.

“Oh sure, yea I’m just fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I gotta be alright for my crew, ya know? And for you and my Ma back home. But, sometimes, it all just feels… well, I feel it.”

“Well, it’s okay to feel it. You can admit that to me, Curt. I wouldn’t think anything less of you.”

“You’d better not, you’re my best friend.”

“Curt…” She sighed. This was usually when she’d begin to get exasperated with him. As usual.

“B’Sides… if anything happens-“

“Curt…”

“If anything happens, you gotta write to my Ma, alright?”

“Curt, how can you ask me to do that?” She whispered.

“No one knows me better than you, Val. It’s gotta be you, alright?”

“How can you put that on me, huh?”

“Just promise, would ya, ya stubborn woman!” He threw his hands up at her. “I’m not planning on leaving anytime soon, for fuck sake.”

“Fine! I promise, okay?”

“Thank you,” He grinned, but she could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. “Now come on, I think we both need a drink.”

“After what you just asked me, I need more than one.” She groaned, allowing him to toss his arm over her shoulder and guide them both to the club.

“Well I’m only buying ya one,” He looked up with a smirk. “You got Blakely now, he can buy you the second one.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Nah, I’m very believable.”

Pulling the door open, he walked Val to the table where the girls were already sitting, promising to be back with her drink. It left her shaking her head as she sat, baffled still at the conversation they’d had outside, and how he had turned on a dime from sarcastic Curt, to a scared boy right in front of her.

Turning to the girls, she noticed that Olive wasn’t with them, and knowing Benny had caught her on her way in, she wondered if him and Douglass were already vying for her attention.

“Where’s Olive? With Benny or Dougie?”

“Ladies room.”

“Okay so which one is probably waiting outside the door for her?” Val chuckled, trying to bring herself back.

“Dougie.” They replied in unison, laughing at the image of him hanging out outside the ladies bathroom.

Helen gestured behind her, and before she could ask her what she was looking at, the one voice she had been yearning to hear all day since that crash, had finally eased the anxiety gnawing at her from the inside out.

“I was starting to wonder where you were.”

“Ev…” His name came on a breath, and she turned in her seat to see him standing behind her, dapper as ever.

“I didn’t see you come in with the girls,” He rounded the table and perched himself against the arm of the chair next to her, casually bringing his drink to his lips. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, everything’s fine. Curt caught me as I was leaving the hut with Olive and wanted to talk.”

He nodded, slipping into the seat next to her with ease, his arm coming to rest around the back of her chair. His fingers gently moved over her shoulder, causing her to shiver and slide just a bit closer to him.

“You okay sweetheart?”

Shaking her head as if he had to ask why she had moved closer, she was about to give him the what for, when the other man in her life suddenly reappeared.

“Course she’s okay! She’s got a drink now!”

He carefully slid a martini glass in front of her, and she couldn’t help but notice it was missing some off the top.

“Thank you, Curt. And would you look at that, he taste tested it for me too.”

“What a guy, I know I am!” Curt beamed, not even caring that she had caught him.

“You didn’t bring one for the rest of us, Biddick?” Tattie baited him, knowing it would get a rise out of the pilot and take the heat off Val.

“My mistake, Tattie. What are you and Helen drinking this evening?”

“Rum and cola,” She replied, bringing a cigarette to her lips. “And they’re not to be taste tested.”

“Well then, I’ll be back with those.”

“Curt, why don’t you join us when you come back, yea?” Val looked over at him, and then at Ev, who nodded over at his fellow pilot in agreement.

“Yea, Biddick, you can’t leave me outnumbered here…” Ev offered, the two men sharing a silent conversation.

“Well, alright then. I'll be right back.”

Once Curt had reached the bar, Val pressed a chaste kiss to Ev’s cheek.

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“You know what for.” She grinned.

“Well, in that case, you’re welcome.”

“You two just going to gaze into each other's eyes all night, or are one of you going to go and save poor Olive, who’s been cornered at the bar.” Helen gestured to where Olive was now at the bar, Douglass, Benny and Curt, all trying to buy her a drink.

“Jesus Christ almighty, Everett, you need to keep him on a leash.” Val sighed, pushing her chair back, standing to go rescue her friend.

“Maybe we can ask Benny if he’ll lend us Meatball’s.” He called after her as she went, the two girls at the table with him laughing.

“Okay boys, that’s enough,” Val pushed through them, just enough to get to Olive’s side. “Curt, I have two very thirsty friends waiting on you at the table.”

“I was just-“

“Helen and Tattie are waiting.” She fixed him with a look, and he quickly turned back to the bar to order two drinks for the girls and a whiskey for himself.

“You two,” She turned on Douglass and DeMarco. “If you’d like to talk to Olive, come and sit with us.”

“Oh uh…”

“The table, Dougie,” Val grinned, a saccharine sweet smile stretching across her lips. “Benny, you and Meatball are welcome to join us.”

With that, she linked arms with Olive and marched her back towards the table that Everett and the girls were still occupying.

“You could rule the world, Valencia DiRosano.” Olive shook her head with a laugh.

“No, but I could certainly whip these fellas into shape.”

Neither girl had to turn around to know that all three boys were following dutifully behind them, looking more like lost puppy’s than the actual dog that was part of their little hodgepodge group.

Four Red Cross gals, three pilots, a bombardier and a husky all crowded around a table as the band played on around them. Val had slid into Everett’s lap at one point, and Meatball had dutifully taken up her empty seat for himself, paws on the table like the good boy he was, simply enjoying the people around him. If she had to admit it, he was the best behaved fella at the table. Curt was currently telling a -very animated- story from back home that included Val, and a blonde that hadn’t gotten the hint that he was uninterested.

“I ain’t never seen anything like it,” His arms flailed wildly around him, almost knocking the glass from Benny’s hand. “One minute she’s across the room, and the next, she’s got this girl by the elbow, hauling her out like-“

“Like trash, Curt. Because she was trash.” Val sniggered, pointing across the table at him while Everett held her in his lap.

“So we know who to call when we need a quick exit then, is that it?” Benny chuckled.

“Call Tattie, she’s just as good as I am.”

“Oh please! You’re the muscle, you managed to tame Kidd of that god awful scowl he’s been wearing for weeks.”

“That’s Egan’s fault,” Helen groaned. “Went and got himself demoted.”

“How exactly do you get demoted from Air Exec?” Dougie pondered, lighting himself a cigarette before it was quickly proffered by Olive, who plucked it from his fingers with a grin. “Hey!”

When she handed it back to him after taking the first inhale, no one at the table missed the slightly put out look on Benny’s face. Thankfully, they were saved by the Hundredths regimental photographer coming over to their table, camera in hand.

“You lot up for a group shot?”

“Absolutely!” Tattie grinned, maneuvering everyone so that they were all crowded together, Meatball front and center, tongue wagging in delight at all the attention. Val remained perched in Ev’s lap, her right arm wound around his neck, the left holding his that was firmly on her waist. Across from her, Dougie had pulled Olive into his lap, the blue eyed man looking rather pleased with himself. Curt had squeezed himself between Helen and Tattie, sitting on their laps, as Benny squeezed in between Val and Tattie, with Meatball.

“Alright you guys,” Joe, the photographer hollered over the band. “On three…”

He counted off, and the flash captured the moment perfectly. He took a second, just to be sure, before the group untangled themselves.

“How about you two,” He turned to Val and Everett. “Captain Blakely? Miss Val?”

“Oh! Thank you Joe!” She beamed, standing from Everett’s lap so that they could take a proper photo.

Adjusting his jacket, Everett wrapped both arms around her, holding her close as she rested one hand on his back, the other against his chest. They barely registered their friends watching, or that Joe had snapped the first photo of them simply looking at each other. When he had them turn to smile, Val felt as though she might burst; wrapped up in Everett’s arms, everything felt as it should. Her friends, the man she adored, the music around them and even Meatball. It didn’t escape her that this was the first photo they’d taken together, and she’d cherish it for the rest of her days.

“I’ll get those to you all soon as I can.” Joe had bid them farewell after taking a few more of their group. Curt was especially excited to send the picture of him and Val home to his Ma. Proof they were both alright, he had said. Val suspected he just wanted to prove she hadn’t strangled him. Yet.

“Thanks Joe!”

As he made his way to the next table, Curt stood from his spot at the table, holding his hand out to Helen, cheeky smile on his face.

“Humor a poor sap with a dance?”

“Well; you’ve been surprisingly well behaved tonight, Curt, so why not.”

She allowed him to take her hand and guide her from her chair to the dance floor, where they began to sway to the tune of the band.

Val and Tattie watched as both Dougie and Benny seemed to have the same idea, and sensing that DeMarco had sat and watched Olive with Douglass, Tattie stood from her seat, and tugged Dougie with her towards the dance floor.

“Come on, you. Let’s stretch our legs, hmm?”

“Sure, Tattie…” Dougie followed her towards the center, eyes just barely catching Benny leading Olive to the dance floor as well.

“May I?” Everett held his hand out for Val, who accepted without hesitation. Joining their friends on the dance floor, the band kept the tunes slow and romantic for a bit longer than normal. Val didn’t miss Dougie and Benny swap partners after the second song finished, the two of them remaining well behaved, lest ruin the mood of the evening for everyone.

“The pair of them are lovesick.” Everett shook his head, watching as Olive joined Dougie, and Tattie moved into Benny’s hold.

“Olive is definitely overwhelmed by it all,” Val looked up at him. “But between you and me, I think it’s Dougie who’s stolen her heart.”

“You think so?”

“She looks at him a certain way that she doesn’t when Benny comes around. I think she loves Benny but she may be falling in love with Doug.”

“Love, huh? That’s a big admission.”

“Well, when you know, you know.” Val shrugged, tucking herself back against his chest.

“Ain’t that the fuckin truth…” Ev whispered to himself, glancing down at the woman in his arms.

He’d had a feeling when he first saw her in the club that night that something had been irking her, and when she had mentioned Curt wanting to talk, he thought it had been something he had done. The two of them were constantly arguing like siblings, the occasional real disagreement popping up, but they had seemed fine at the table, so maybe it really was nothing.

“How did it go up there today?” She peeked up at him, and that’s when he saw it. The worry behind her eyes.

“That’s what’s bothering you…”

“Nothing's bothering me.”

“Please, don’t lie to me…”

“I don’t want to do this here,” Val eyed the room cautiously, before nodding towards the doors. “Take a walk with me?”

“Of course honey. Come on.”

He led her from the club, now outside in the dewy, English air. They walked hand in hand, silently, until they found a suitable place to talk without anyone hearing them.

“It’s not like me to get scared but, today…”

“You heard about Baynard.” He guessed.

“Tattie and I saw it happen.”

He hadn’t expected that she’d seen it. Hearing about these things was never easy, and the girls were all so friendly with the fellas that they began to grow attached to some of them. You remember how they take their coffee, or to ask about their sweetheart back home. Anything to bring a smile to their faces.

“Jesus…”

“We were unloading the boxes into the truck, and the next thing we saw was the tail of a fort in the trees, black smoke and fire. Fire like I’ve never seen in my life.”

“Honey…”

“I just thought…” She sucked in a deep breath, trying to focus on something, anything. Anything except for the way her chest was seizing up and her eyes were watering. “What if it had been you, or Curt. I just don’t know what I’d have done.”

“I’m so sorry that you spent all day worried.”

“Kenny told us it wasn’t you… it shouldn’t be that grief comes with relief, Ev.”

“I know,” He sighed, taking her hands in his. “I wasn’t even off the ground yet when it happened. Yet… yet I felt this odd sense of thank god. Thank god it wasn’t my crew, my friends…”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything honey.”

“Are you ever scared? Scared that you might go up one day and, and-“

“Every day,” He admitted. “Scared we’ll live the rest of our lives stuck in East Anglia, fighting this goddamn war. Scared I’ll go up and it’ll be the last time. Scared I’ll end up stuck in the Stalag while you’re here alone. Scared to break your heart most of all.”

“Everett, no…no don’t say that.”

“We could be scared together. No one else has to know.”

“Yea…yea let’s do that,” She huffed out a laugh, wiping at her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. It’s alright.”

“You weren’t supposed to see me cry.”

“No? But then I don’t get to do this.”

Carefully, he took her face in his hands, kissing away the tears that stained her cheeks. Slowly, carefully, his lips blazed a trail down her left cheek, stopping to place a kiss at the corner of her mouth before repeating the process on the right side. Once he had kissed her tears dry, and only then, did he allow his lips to find hers. Under the cover of night, he did his damndest to kiss away her fear and anything that scared her. He harbored enough fear for the two of them, and if he could ease hers just a bit, he’d do what he could.

The sound of footsteps rounding the corner, crunching against the gravel pulled them apart. They found Dougie and Benny standing there, both wearing the disappointment on their faces with no attempt to hide it.

“Ev,.” Doug sighed. “We gotta go. The light’s on.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know! A big huge thank you to @hephaestn for the stunning new mood board.

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#masters of the air #eight to the bar: Blakely & Val #mota fanfic #everett blakely x ofc #everett blakely #oc: valencia dirosano #everett blakely fic #oc: olive lewis #benny demarco #james douglass #just a snappin #hbo war #gina baker writes

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latibvles · 5 days

Note

AND — [ jacket ] sender takes their jacket off and hangs it on receiver's shoulders WITH viv and bucky because i need to see the tender side of bucky hehe 🤭🤭🤭🤭 THANK U POET !!!!!!!

jacket.

u ask for soft Bucky I give you soft Bucky . another post-bremen thing because for some reason if I write June and willie coping then I've gotta write Viv too. Anita (Rivera) is another character of who gets name dropped here — another pilot, woohoo! As is Ellie Harris. That in mind: soft tender Viv/Bucky feelings will be the end of me personally.

—

If there was one thing that’s been nailed into their heads, one thing Bucky learned the hard way, was that it rained in England. A lot. It came down hard and heavy and seemed to never end once it started. Tonight is no different: it’s raining cats and dogs and forcing everyone to stay in the Officer’s Club longer than they already do. No one wants to make the trek back to their huts and get soaked in the process, their shoes and socks filling with mud. So they order another round and take their time on sipping those drinks until the ice melts and dilutes the whiskey.

Bucky doesn’t hate nights like this, shitty weather aside, but for the first time in a while he eyes the door frequently, silently willing for her to show up. Or rather, to come back.

It wasn’t like Viv to be the first one out — more often the last one, rounding the stragglers of her crew up like a shepherd, giving him a playful promise to come by his hut and tuck him and Curt in. But instead, she exchanged quiet conversation with Willie, her co-pilot clapped her on the shoulder in a silent see you later, and then Viv bid them all goodnight with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. No jokes, no fanfare, no shepherding.

It is one of the only things that Bucky realizes he can’t quite shake with drinking and dancing — the rain started coming down a little after she left and his first thought was the unshakeable worry about her getting caught in it; slipping in the mud and hurting herself, or getting soaked through her clothes and getting sick.

It is this unshakeable worry of his that has him slipping out early — polishing off his drink to save face with an excuse about seeing if he could pull Buck from his cot tonight to join them. It’s not much, but it buys him what he hopes is enough time to poke his head in, make sure Viv is still up and kicking and possibly get a real smile out of her. Part of him wholly wanted to believe she was as unbreakable as the war goddess emblazoned on her old PT shirt, but Bucky wasn’t counting on that fact.

He’s never been more thankful for the hard leather of his sheepskin and how the rain slides off it, but he still wastes no time in jumping into his jeep and making his way down the road. It wasn’t coming down hard enough yet to completely obscure his vision; Bucky keeps glancing to the side in case he catches that tall silhouette of hers making its way back to the huts on the side of the gravel road.

But he doesn’t and Bucky’s slightly imbued with the small hope that she’s beat out the rain, that she could walk just as fast as she flew.

It doesn’t do much to shake the feeling though. His jacket might’ve been doing a good job keeping the rain out, but concern is already embedding itself deep in his bones like a chill he can’t shake, urging him to press on the gas in spite of the wheel’s trembling protests. He just curls his fists tighter until he rounds the corner — and then it’s a straight shot to her quarters from there.

Warm light pours from the two windows sandwiching the door to the hut, and Bucky doesn’t realize he’s hesitating until a fat droplet plinks onto his nose and he’s yet to knock on the door.

Lines were drawn pretty quick once the women joined them, this being one of them. Anita laid them out for him pretty plainly when he dared to ask: you don’t go with a guy to check out the inside of his fort, they have to wait outside the Hut, don’t bring any of them into our forts — they’d figured out all the ways the rules about fraternization could bite them in the ass and then filled in the holes before they even learned anybody’s names. Bucky, for all the trouble he liked to find himself in, was not in the business of dragging Viv or any of her girls into it.

But he can’t help it — the way his jaw clenches and his fists furl in undeniable frustration.

Fraternization be damned, is she not one of his to look out for?! They were a group, a team. He couldn’t shake that feeling of distance between himself and his guys after they’d gone up and he wasn’t there — and little else mattered to him than closing it before it got too wide. He’d be an idiot to act like there couldn’t be a gap there between himself and the girls too, now that they’ve been up. He’d never really asked her how she was holding up, did he?

Internalized guilt aside: she’d do the same for him; that much, Bucky is sure of.

So he opens the door quickly, stepping inside all at once and not letting the door slam behind him, because if he’s going to invade their space he might as well try to have some manners about the whole thing. Nothing could really prepare him for the sight before him, though.

One footlocker she uses as a desk, the other she uses as a chair. Her hair’s all saturated from the rain, stringy and sticking to the sides of her face. Her uniform’s a wet, crumpled pile on the floor. And he really doesn’t know what he was expecting, coming in unannounced, but it wasn’t pale yellow pajama shorts, Viv’s lips pulled into a concentrated pout, and her cheeks and nose pinkened from frigid summer rain. There’s something tentative about the whole thing, vulnerable.

The Vivian he knows is teasing and sharp-tongued; all smiles and quick remarks and quicker actions. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re the only two people in here, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s not used to her quiet; but he suddenly feels like he’s intruding in a way that he hasn’t really felt with anybody else. He whips his head to the side and starts sweeping droplets off the hard leather of his jacket, but he can see her lifting her head to look at him.

Unfortunately, it’s Viv, who is his friend, so he kind of has to look at her when she speaks — lest he make this all about him and his newfound sensibilities when it comes to women in their pajamas, apparently.

“Hey, you,” she tilts her head to the side, curious. “Didn’t know I was getting visitors.”

“Wanted to see if you beat out the rain,” he starts walking towards her and she tilts her head up to look at him, the flickering overhead lighting up her pretty features. Viv smiles, before letting it fall and giving him a half-hearted shrug.

“It caught me,” she admits dismissively, as if he couldn’t see it already. “Guess I should’ve invested in one of these, then. You got extra lying around?” She reaches up to pat his arm.

“You tryna match with me, Savorre?”

“Well if you’re gonna be my ball and chain we might as well,” She counters, swivelling on her makeshift chair and turning her back to him. “Was that it, though?”

To his credit, Bucky doesn’t mean to be nosey — Viv’s just got tragically neat handwriting and it’s something to look at that isn’t wet hair clinging to a lithe neck. But he pauses all the same, his brows knitting together, and the reason for her early absence hitting him all at once.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Harris, you may not remember me… starts off what looks to be a letter. And Bucky remembers the name like he remembers the burn of alcohol in his throat and that feeling of elation he got three days ago when Harding decided to graciously bump him back down from Air Exec.

Ellie Harris was a part of the only female crew that went down — no chutes. He met her, just like he met Viv and Anita: out on the runway in Utah, all chapped faces and pigtails, suspicious eyes. Nice girl, honey-haired and quieter than the other two. He didn’t know her as well as he knew Viv, or even Anita, but he knew her. He poured one out for her crew, too — Adams, Schmalenbach, Petrich, Harris, and all their brave men.

“Bucky? Did you need something?” Viv asks again, turning to look at him. Likely reading the expression on his face, she looks back at the letter, and then to him. She takes her lip between her teeth once his eyes resettle on her. “I know that this is… Kidd’s job or yours, technically, but I just figured…”

There’s a heavy silence that hangs in the air, a brief moment of guilt shared between them. Him, for not thinking of asking about Ellie when he realized she’d gone down — and Viv for probably something small. Like writing her family a letter. He doesn’t want to share this feeling with her but on all levels but physical: he’s effectively scrambling for a means to rid her of it. He comes up empty-handed.

“Her folks sent me and ‘Nita Christmas cards. I figured I owed it to them to at least give some personal condolences.” Her words feel like rain pelting against his skin, the way she avoids his stare turning it frigid. But it’s that imperceptible, barely there shiver of hers that nearly does him in. If he could take the pen and write the whole thing himself, he would, but she’d never let him do that and it’d defeat the purpose of writing at all.

Her back turns to him and he watches a droplet fall from the ends of her hair and run down her back, turning that flimsy yellow material translucent. His jaw clenches involuntarily. He’s shrugging his jacket off without a second thought.

She’d do the same, he rationalizes, if it were me, she’d do the same.

Viv almost seems to freeze entirely as he puts the sheepskin over her shoulders, thankful that the inside was still dry, that the worst of the rain was yet to come. It’s warm, he knows it is because now he’s realizing just how damn cold this hut is right now. Granted, it probably wouldn’t be so awful if his hair wasn’t wet.

She hardly even needs to turn her head much — Bucky hasn’t exactly straightened himself out yet, still slightly hunched over, fixing the collar to keep it out of her way. He’s close enough now to notice some gold in the brown of her eyes. She wants some type of explanation, a what’s all this for likely posed on her tongue and he knows that ‘just felt right’ is a piss-poor excuse.

“You were shakin’ like a leaf over here. Can’t have my wife catching a flu, not on my watch.”

“Uh huh. Right.” Viv retorts sarcastically, and Bucky can’t help the smile on his face as she rolls her eyes at him. Even as he stands up straight again, he doesn’t back away much.

Her fingers ghost over the collar of his jacket, doing little more than softly exhaling — Bucky can’t help it, he lingers in her space and she smiles up at him. Something full and appreciative of what he’s done — she’s given him that look a couple times now and everytime she does, Bucky can’t help but feel like he’s won something. She doesn’t even put her arms through the sleeves, content to let it hang off her shoulders. He likes the way it envelopes her all the same, at least two sizes too big.

There’s a thought that his smell might cling to her skin, and something about that makes him grin a little more.

“You know you’re gonna need this back, right?”

“Jesus, Viv, can you just let me do my marital duty?” He complains, melodramatically, and she laughs, a full sound as her fingers curl over his jacket to keep it on her shoulders.

“That’s not…” Her voice trails off, then she rolls her eyes and Bucky really can’t help how his smile grows at the sight of her. “Fine. Sure. Do your duty. You gonna tuck me in, too? Read me a bedtime story?”

“Depends. You like Guys and Dolls?” He retorts as he takes a seat at the edge of her cot. Viv reaches over to swat at him and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes.

“Don’t make me kick you out of here, Egan,” she threatens half-heartedly, before turning back to her letter. Ten minutes. He’ll let himself linger for ten minutes and let her keep the jacket just for tonight. It suits her better anyways. He can’t help his staring and he knows she feels it because she’s glancing at him from the corner of her eye and chuckling to herself. “What?” He has no excuse this time, so he shrugs and she laughs and mutters something about him being ridiculous.

The sound and the sight of her make him hope that these ten minutes go by slow.

#*poet writes #ch: vivian savorre #ship: viv/bucky #john egan x oc #masters of the air oc #john egan fanfiction #mota oc #mota fic

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rosiegirlie · 23 days

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Press Your Number: John Egan x OC

word count: 4.8k a/n: I couldn't resist trying my hand at a John Egan story even though I'm nervous about it lol. As will probably be my usual this isn’t as researched / historically accurate as it should be so sorry in advance. I'm really just going off the vibes tbh ! read on AO3

The sun was setting with only the smallest bit still hanging on above the tops of the surrounding trees. It would soon be too dark for Jacqueline to continue working but luckily she’d reached a comfortable stopping point. She climbed down her ladder and stepped away from the plane to look up at her work. Oddly enough Jacqueline felt more proud of her pinup girl on the side of the plane than any of the pieces she’d shown back in Paris.

Normally Jaqueline painted nature scenes. She hadn’t painted a person since university and had been nervous when Corporal Ken Lemmons told her what they wanted. But she had to admit that she’d done good. The painted blushing blonde looked full of life with her lips red and open in a playful pout. Jacqueline had worried whether or not the outfit was too risqué but she liked how the blue two piece swimming costume stood out against the plane’s sheet metal. It was eye catching. She hoped the men liked it just as much as she did. It still seemed like some sort of joke that she was getting to paint again. When she’d overheard Ken bemoaning having to paint designs on the planes she’d jumped at the opportunity before even introducing herself. She never thought that she’d be able to do this sort of thing when she transferred out to Thorpe Abbotts.

Jacqueline figured she still had a couple minutes of light left and climbed back up on the ladder with her paintbrush and palette in hand. The shading along the cleavage didn’t seem right no matter how many times she touched it up. She ached for proper paint but knew to keep her complaints to herself. She’d find a way to make it work, she always did.

“Now that’s a view worth writing home about.”

The voice came from behind Jacqueline and in her surprise she jerked forward and had to stretch out her hand to brace herself against the plane to steady herself.

“Take it easy now.” The voice was louder, closer. Whoever the speaker was, he was probably right below Jacqueline. She pushed off from the plane and steadied herself on the ladder.

“I’m good.” she assured him. After taking a breath she finally looked down.

The man she didn’t recognize had moved up closer to the plane to get a better look at her work. A quick study of the man had Jacqueline wishing she’d met him in different circumstances when she wasn’t wearing coveralls three sizes too big, hair all tucked up into a sweat stained hat, and hands covered in paint. He was tall with broad shoulders. He was wearing a white sheepskin jacket instead of the ones every one else seemed to prefer. His hair looked thick and Jacqueline’s fingers itched to run themselves through it. She thought she saw a mustache. She needed to get a better look at him.

“Do you like it then?” She asked, gesturing to the pinup with her head even though he wasn’t looking at her to see the gesture. Jacqueline thrived off of hearing what people thought of her art. She was greedy for any possible crumb of praise.

“She’s beautiful. Modeled off your broad back home?”

“No, I just dreamed her up.”

“It’s damn realistic to be something you just dreamed up, you must have practice at this sort of thing.”

“I don’t have a lot of practice in painting half naked women, no.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” The man stepped away from the plane and Jacqueline finally got a better look at him.

He was gorgeous. Jacqueline really wished she looked more presentable. She pushed her feelings aside and joked, “It’s the naked women we practice on, not clothed.”

“I knew it! You must be some sort of professional artist.”

“Oh no, please.” She shook her head. “I hate that idea. If you ask me there’s no such thing as a professional artist.” She knew she should stop there but instead continued, “Art is something you engage with, a conversation with something you tap into. An artist should always be open to continual growth and learning. An artist is a student, not a professional. Or at least if they’re a proper artist they wouldn’t consider themselves a professional.” Jacqueline let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry,” She raised her free hand not holding her paintbrush and palette and scratched at something on her cheek and along her jaw. She shrugged. “You were trying to pay me a compliment, it was rude of me to ramble. Thank you.”

When Jacqueline shifted to look back at the man she immediately met his eyes causing her to blush. His eyes were wide and after a brief moment of intense eye contact left her face to trace down her body. She felt his gaze as it went down to her hands in her lap. She burned as he worked his way back up to her face. It had been a while since a man had studied her like this and she hoped it turned into something as foolish as she knew it was to want. It was like his energy had changed completely and she didn’t know why. But she didn’t mind.

He smirked up at her, causing Jacqueline’s heart to skip a beat, and said, “It wasn’t rude no. Trust me, I love a good ol’ fashioned ramble.” He shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “I’m just realizing I was seriously misled on some key details.”

Jacqueline did nothing but stare at him, confused. He continued before she could figure out a response. “They said your name was Jack. I didn’t realize that was a nickname.”

Instinctively she tisked, “I told them to stop calling me that, it makes me sound like a boy. I hate nicknames.”

“If it’s not Jack then what’s your name?” He prodded.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” She challenged with a smile.

“You can call me Bucky.” “Your mother named you Bucky?”

“My mother named me John but—”

“Lovely to meet you, John.” She stuck her free hand out and smiled wider when he took it in his own. “I’m Jacqueline.”

____

The officer’s club was full of laughter and music and men working off the restless energy that came with surviving another day. Normally Bucky would be right there with them, right in the thick of it. But he’d flown his first mission that day. He’d gone up and it hadn’t been anything like he thought. He couldn’t even remember what he thought it would be like. Bucky studied the glass in his hands. His hands had done terrible things that day, his hands were nothing like her’s. Nothing like Jacqueline.

For some reason Bucky hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. He’d never felt like this before, focused so much in on one woman. But he kept thinking about how delicate her paint stained hands looked and the way her scratching at a wayward piece of hair on her face made him realize that she was a woman and not a man like he’d been expecting. Bucky felt ridiculous for being so worked up over a broad’s hands but here he was, a mess. It had only been a couple of days but his thoughts kept coming back to the woman he hadn’t been able to find since meeting on the hardstand. The endless meetings with Colonel Huglin and various other staff hadn’t given him the free time he wanted to search for Jacqueline but at least that afternoon he’d worked out that she wasn’t a mechanic. His mistake had been assuming that her getup had been her uniform. Now he was back to square one.

A loud cackle broke through over the general noise of the crowd and Bucky couldn’t help but look for the source. There was a group of women by the corner of the dance floor and they looked like they were trying to contain one of them. Bucky watched and took in the view as they joked amongst themselves. The redhead, whose back had been to him, stepped out of the way and Bucky got a better look at the rest of the women in the group. Immediately his eyes jumped to the woman closest to the dance floor, the one with one hand on her hip while the other fanned at her face. She was wearing a rich blue dress that complimented her chestnut hair falling loosely around her face. He’d always liked the color blue but now he knew it was his favorite. She wasn’t wearing red lipstick like the rest of them but Bucky didn’t mind. She seemed to be entertaining her friends and making them laugh; he could tell from all the way across the room that she’d be the life of the party by his side. She was beautiful and Bucky needed to talk to her, needed to dance with her. Anything at all. He was a man starved.

But before he could make a move Lieutenant McDaniel was by his side and Bucky knew he was trapped. By the time he managed to get away from the conversation he’d lost her. Bucky kept his eyes peeled as the night went on, always looking over his shoulder. He’d catch glimpses but then she’d be gone before he could reach her. He couldn’t focus. He blamed his poor darts performance on the booze and joked that he’d come back around once he cleared his head. He wandered back over to the bar defeated. First he’d lost Jacquline and now he’d lost this mystery woman. If any of his guys found out he’d let them slip through his fingers they wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Bucky’s reputation would never recover. He needed to pull himself together. He downed the last of his drink in one go and asked for another. As he waited for his drink he turned to lean against the bar top and look out over the room. His heart skipped a beat.

There she was in the middle of a group of women settling down around a table across the hall. She sat down in the seat against the wall, the only one facing him directly. A wave of desire rushed over him, an overwhelming sense of longing that had Bucky feeling like a kid with his first crush.

“Major.”

Bucky turned around and accepted the drink the bartender was offering him. “Thanks.” He lifted the glass in a cheers motion then turned back around with his eyes immediately going back to the woman.

Something one of the girls said made her throw her head back in laughter again and Bucky instantly felt himself smiling along with her. The woman was a vision; Bucky wanted to have his way with her. She grabbed her hair all in one hand and pulled it up and away from her face. She fanned herself with the other, still laughing with her friends. When she pulled her hair back the woman had exposed the side of her face and neck so Bucky could now take in her full profile. He almost dropped his drink when he realized he knew that jawline. It was Jacqueline. He’d been eyeing Jacqueline all night and didn’t even realize. He could practically hear Buck in his ear teasing him for being such a fool.

Without thinking Bucky set his drink on the bar and headed straight for Jacqueline. One of her friends, the redhead, saw him first and elbowed Jacqueline in the side to get her attention. John felt something settle in him when she met his eyes; it felt so right to have her looking at him. He’d always loved attention but never had it hit so right than now.

“Jacqueline.”

“John.”

He reached out a hand. “Dance with me, doll?”

“Doll?” she cocked an eyebrow at the endearment but before Bucky could worry about being turned down she was pushing her chair out from the table and standing up. “I can’t promise I’m a good dance partner. I’ll probably step on your toes.”

“A worthy sacrifice to have you in my arms.” He pulled her onto the dance floor and twirled her around, smiling when she giggled as she spun.

“Smooth talker, are you?” Jaqueline said as she settled into his arms and followed his lead as they started to dance.

“I’m whatever I need to be when the situation calls.” he boasted.

Jacqueline laughed. “Spoken like a real American.”

Bucky looked down at her confused but defensive. “What’s wrong with speaking like an American?”

“Nothing at all! Just that you lot tend to act before thinking and seem to think you can handle everything on your own.”

Bucky was quick to heat with anger but took a second to consider what she’d said. “Where are you from, then? Because your accent sounds an awful lot like mine.”

“Alright, you got me.” Jacqueline winked at Bucky like she was letting him on a secret. “I’m a Yank like you.”

“Do you not consider yourself American?” He watched Jacqueline chew on her lip while thinking how to answer. Now that he had her up close Bucky was grateful Jacqueline had forgone the red lipstick for something closer to her natural lip color. He was having a hard enough time keeping his cool as it was. if her full lips were fully painted up Bucky wasn’t sure he had the self control to stay respectable.

“I spent most of my life over here.” She finally answered. “I can’t even remember the last time I was in the States.” she took another moment to think. “It was probably when my mother passed. No, it can’t have been that long, I had to have been back since then. But maybe… no. Hmm… Wow.” she blushed, probably embarrassed at her rambling, and shook her head. “I guess I haven’t been back in nine years? Almost ten.”

“That’s a long time to be away from home.”

“Not if it never felt like home to begin with.” Jacqueline said with an unbothered shrug.

“I can’t wait to figure you out.” Bucky said without thinking first. He quickly turned to look away from Jacqueline to hide his face in case he really was blushing like he felt.

“It’s still early days.” Jacqueline mused. “We’ve got time.”

The song ended and the pair separated to join in the applause for the band. A slower song started up and Bucky was quick to pull Jacqueline back against him before she could escape. She didn’t resist him and settled into his arms, leaning her head on his chest. The thing that had settled into him before dug itself deeper. He hadn’t felt like this since his first days learning to fly.

They danced without talking for a while until Bucky leaned down close to Jacqueline’s ear and whispered, “I looked for you, you know.”

“You looked for me?” she pulled slightly away stared at him with a look of bewilderment. “What do you mean? Why?”

“Because I wanted to see you.” he said honestly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Jacqueline mouth dropped open in surprise. She seemed to be lost for words and Bucky loved that. He loved throwing people off their game. He stared at her mouth and took note of the slight smudge of pale lipstick on the corner of her mouth. He wanted to kiss it. He cleared his throat and pushed down his instincts that were begging him to wrap Jacqueline fully in his arms and give into all temptation. He was going to take a page from Buck’s book and be a gentleman about this.

_____

Jacqueline was already at the bar when the Major came through the doors. A couple of cheers went up at his entrance and she couldn’t help but smile into her drink at the reaction. She loved the theatrics. But she’d done her research and she couldn’t believe she’d been so informal around someone with such a high rank. It didn’t make her want him any less, but it did intensify her nerves. Rank implied status and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get back into the world of status. She watched as he wove his way through the crowd. He didn’t stop talking for a second. Jacqueline wasn’t sure why she was so endeared by his working the room.

The couple next to her left the bar leaving more than enough room for him to come up next to her. Jacqueline set her glass down on the bar and tried to straighten herself up. She didn’t know what she was going to say to him. Should she wait for him to say something first? She was awful at intentional flirting. Jacqueline glanced over her shoulder and then whipped her head back around. He was almost at the bar and Jacqueline knew he was going to come up next to her. This was it.

But then he didn’t recognize her. Didn’t even spare her a glance. Jacqueline wanted to laugh she was so mortified but held it in. Based off of the rumors she really thought he’d at least look at her even if he didn’t start flirting. She took a deep drink of her gin and tonic as she listened to the Major order a pint and make small talk with the airman on his other side. Her body felt like it was on fire she was so hyperaware of her surroundings. She felt beyond silly for getting her hopes up that he would want to talk to her again. It had been such a brief thing; they’d barely talked. It didn’t matter how nicely she tried to put herself together, it didn’t matter how long she’d spent on her hair and makeup. Her first impression had come and gone. She’d lost her chance to blow the Major away.

“Another round? Gin and tonic, right?” The bartender asked as she finished off her drink.

“Please. Thank you.” She said with a smile but barely met the bartender’s eyes. As soon as she had her new cocktail she slipped away from the bar and into the crowd.

Her original plan of doing something — admittedly she hadn’t gotten far enough along to actually plan anything, she’d been counting on John to do most of the doing — was useless now so she figured to hell with it. She was going to enjoy her night with her girls. Her closest friends and coworkers, Ginny and Elizabeth, cheered when she returned to them. Jacqueline thanked her past self for not telling them about meeting the Major. She knew they would tease and end up repeating the stories that had started spreading through the base. It didn’t do her any good to think about all of the women John had slept with. Maybe it was for the best that Jacqueline was forgettable. She needed to keep thinking about him as the Major, not as John. He was just a nice man she’d met and that was that.

An hour later and her friends were all sitting around a table, laughing at Ginny’s imitation of their old supervisor. Jacqueline pulled all of her hair back from her face, twisted it around in her hand and held it up at the back of her head. With her other hand she fanned at her face. She’d worked up a sweat dancing and her hand was doing nothing to help her cool down. Jacqueline had just made up her mind to go out and grab some air since she was so hot, maybe she’d even turn in for the night, when Elizabeth elbowed Jaqueline in the side.

“What was—” Jacqueline’s voice broke off when she followed Elizabeth’s line of site and saw the Major walking towards them. He was looking right at her and when she met his eyes he grinned. The other girls at their table turned to see what Jacqueline and Elizabeth were staring at and the conversation had died by the time John reached their table.

“Jacqueline.”

She felt butterflies when he said her name.

“John.” She replied with a smile. Then she’d taken his offered hand and followed him out to dance floor.

She’d spent the rest of the night wrapped up in John’s orbit. Even when they weren’t dancing John had kept her close, a warm presence that Jaqueline didn’t mind despite hating the heat. Normally Jacqueline was only good at being lively and social at the beginning of the night, more often than not she would slip out early to sooth her introverted nature begging to be alone. But somehow she loved being constantly surrounded with John by her side. It was easy to maintain a smile and keep up with the jokes being thrown around with the weight of John’s arm around her waist.

Time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye and too soon John was walking her back to her hut, the perfect gentleman despite the rumors. Jaqueline wondered if this was what flying felt like; oddly enough she felt weightless with her arm wrapped around John’s.

“When can I see you again?” John asked when they were almost at her hut.

“It’s a small base, I’m sure we’ll run into each other.” she said coyly. Jacqueline didn’t have a lot of experience with men but she knew with men like John she had to hold her ground. “I’m sure you could find me if you really wanted.”

“Is that a challenge?” He sounded excited, like Jacqueline had given him some sort of gift.

“You think you can manage finding me?”

“I’ll manage it all for you, whatever you ask.”

John’s words were what Jacqueline had always wanted to hear from a man but she knew to be wary. “You should be careful saying things like that to a girl. She might get her hopes up.”

“And if I want her to?”

That took Jacqueline by surprise. She spluttered, “Then you should show her you care. Talk is useless if it’s just that.”

“Good thing I’m a man who acts.” And with that John twisted Jacqueline towards him. His hand went right to the side of her face and he cradled her jaw as he pulled her in for a kiss.

Jacqueline didn’t even pretend to be respectable. As soon as John’s lips were on her’s she was desperate for more. She pulled her arm out from being trapped between them and wrapped it around John’s back to bring him closer. It was clear he hadn’t expected Jacqueline to escalate the kiss but he was quick to match her energy. He moved his hand into the thick of her hair and Jacqueline couldn’t hold back her moan when he tugged at it to bring her closer to him.

Her moan seemed to snap John out of it and he ripped himself away from Jacqueline, breathing hard. He took a couple of steps back leaving Jacqueline standing there looking like some strung out floozy with slick lips and wide eyes. She figured she should be embarrassed by how scandalous she was sure to look but she couldn’t seem to care when John seemed to be just as out of sorts. They looked at each other in silence, their heavy breathing the only noise between them. And then they both started to laugh loudly into the night. John came back to Jacqueline’s side.

“I’ll come find you.” He promised with a kiss to the top of her head. Another to her forehead.

“I’m looking forward to it, Major.” She gave him a wave before entering her hut. She waited a minute until she let out a giggle and danced around the empty hut like the teenage girl she was feeling like.

Jacqueline spent the next day on edge waiting for John to pop up at any moment. She meant what she said: Thorpe Abbotts wasn’t a big base. There were only so many places one could hide and she wasn’t even trying to hide. But to her dismay John never showed. She felt like such a fool for getting her hopes up. Her mood the following day went from bad to worse when the forts started rolling in after the mission. Lieutenant McDaniel’s fort, the one John was flying on, hadn’t come back. John was gone.

That afternoon Jacqueline was lost in thought staring out the minuscule window. The forest around the base reminded her of the years spent in Switzerland even though the two looked nothing alike. She had been such a child back then; the world had been so big back when she was young and now Jacqueline felt so small standing in the corner of the switchboard room. She felt so naive for losing herself over a flyboy so quickly, especially one she barely knew. Her cousin had joked that Jaqueline would find herself a pilot and finally have one of those romances that inspired great art. Even her aunt had commented on the possibility of her work leading to producing something she never thought possible. But just because the first world war and her various lovers had inspired her aunt to write didn’t mean Jacqueline was the same. Jacqueline was nauseous thinking about using her heartbreak as inspiration. Maybe this was why she couldn’t consider herself a proper artist.

The sound of her coworkers arguing pulled Jacqueline from her thoughts. It was no surprise they were talking about her. Nor was it a surprise they would do so openly in front of her without care. After all the time they’d spent together the three of them didn’t hold anything back.

“At least she got out quick.”

“Bloody hell, Ginny. That’s awful to say.” Elizabeth dropped her nail file on the ground as she looked up scandalized.

“I’m just saying!” Ginny defended herself. “You can’t tell me that the heartache would be the same if they’d been together for ages. She’s better off this way!”

Elizabeth bent down to reach under her chair. She picked up her nail file and pointed it accusingly at Ginny. “But you don’t need to say that!”

“It’s important to see the bright side!”

“It’s also important to have more than a couple of hours to process losing someone. You of all people should know better.” Elizabeth chastised.

Ginny’s face went red with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “I was just trying to help.” She pouted, bitter that Elizabeth had poked at her sore spot. “It’s okay, Ginny.” Jacqueline stepped away from the window and turned back around to face her friends. She gave them a weak smile in an effort to assure them but she could tell from their faces it didn’t work.

Their office was small, enough room to maneuver around their chairs but not much beyond that. It felt as cramped as their switchboards looked. But luckily the girls knew how to make the space work, having worked together for almost two and a half years. When Jacqueline had been approached to transfer to Thorpe Abbotts until the Americans could get their crew up and running she said she’d only go if she could pick who would work underneath her. Ginny and Elizabeth hadn’t let her down and Jacqueline was beyond grateful she didn’t have to navigate this new world alone.

She plopped down into her chair and let out a deep sigh. “You’re both right, I suppose.”

“How’re you doing?” Elizabeth asked gently.

Jacqueline shrugged. “As expected.”

“I’m assuming you don’t want to get a drink with us then, after we get off?”

“No one’s getting off anymore.”

“Ginny!” Elizabeth, as always, was scandalized by Ginny’s comment but Jacqueline was laughing despite herself.

“I didn’t even get off to begin with.” She confessed after she stopped giggling.

“All that and you didn’t—”

“When would I have had the time to shag him?” Jacqueline asked with a tired sigh. “You know I haven’t seen him since.”

Ginny was quiet for a moment but then said, “At least you snogged.”

Jaqueline’s heart hurt as she thought about how John had looked at her when he pulled away from their kiss after he walked her back to her hut. “At least there’s that.” she sighed again.

An alarm rang out and the girls sprung to attention.

“I got it.” Jacqueline motioned for the other two to settle back into their chairs while she put on her headset. She connected the right wire then said, “Good afternoon, this is RAF Thorpe Abbotts. How may I direct your call?”

____

He thought it was a dream at first, that made he’d hit his head at some point during the mission and was losing it. But his gut told him he recognized the voice of the operator who answered his call. He cleared his throat.

“This is Major Egan. We’re out at—”

“John!” the voice was breathless and desperate just like he’d been dreaming. Straight out of his fantasizes and into reality. “Major, are you there?”

Bucky cleared his throat again and said with a laugh, “Does it count as finding you if I don’t see you?”

A loud laugh came through the phone and Bucky felt human again.

#I have no big picture plan for this project which is Terrifying !! but I just had to get this out of my head #sorry to those waiting for a billie/rosie update I'll get started on the next thing right away i promise !!!!#also shout out to katie aka softspeirs for giving me feedback and reassurances she's truly the best #rosiegirlie writes #masters of the air #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfic #mota fanfiction #john egan x oc #john egan fanfiction

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hbowarbabes · 3 months

Text

Sealed with a Kiss

John “Bucky” Egan x Roxanne Vernon (OC)

Summary: Bucky needs Roxanne to know that he wants something serious with her, but she isn’t fully convinced that he’s committed to just her and her alone.

Words: 2.3k

• • •

Thorpe Abbotts Airbase,

August 17, 1943

It was a quiet afternoon at the clinic, and Roxanne was sitting at her desk, going over patient files.

Most days, she was used to the bustling activity of the clinic, and her friends rambling about their love lives, but today was unusually quiet.

Roxanne looked out the window, watching as the airmen were getting in and out of vehicles, going for their next mission.

As all the airmen roamed the base, Roxanne wondered if Bucky could be somewhere between them.

She had been left thinking about him and their whole interaction the whole week.

Her friends would continuously ask her if she was going to see Bucky again and maybe take things to a more serious level, but she didn’t know.

After the club, they occasionally saw each other while roaming around Thorpe Abbotts, but they could never actually make time to sit down and talk. Bucky was busy with missions, and Roxanne had her own duties to fulfill at the clinic.

As the days turned into weeks, Roxanne couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had been made aware of Bucky’s reputation as a ladies’ man through countless rumors. And as much as Roxanne tried to block them out, it came to be true.

She had seen Bucky talking to countless other women on the base, his easy smile and confident demeanor drawing them in like moths to a flame.

At first, she had brushed off her feelings, telling herself that it was nothing more than her being dramatic. But as she watched him interact with more women that crossed his path, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was not the only person on his mind.

It wasn't just the way he smiled at them, or the way he laughed at their every word. It was the way he looked at them, with a certain intensity in his eyes that Roxanne had also seen directed at her.

It made her heart ache with longing, and she found herself questioning whether or not she was just another conquest to him, another woman to add to his list of admirers.

Despite her growing suspicions, Roxanne couldn't ignore the undeniable chemistry that existed between them whenever they crossed paths. Every time their eyes met, sparks flew, and she found herself drawn to him like a magnet.

It all made sense to her why she had managed to stay single for so long. Love was nothing but a headache. Was it something worth fighting for with Bucky?

Roxanne still couldn’t answer that for herself.

Suddenly, the door of the clinic swung open with a rush of air, and in walked Bucky with a look of urgency on his face.

Roxanne's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, his brunette locks hiding under his hat along with that light sheepskin jacket that fit on him perfectly. She couldn't help but smile as he made his way over to her.

"Hey Roxanne," Bucky said, a wide grin on his face. "I was hoping to catch you here."

Roxanne felt a flutter in her chest at his words. Bucky was a handsome and charming man, and he had left a good impression on her. Roxanne thought he came across as a polite individual, very down to earth. What she wouldn’t expect was for him to seek her out like this.

Roxanne looked up at Bucky with a mischievous grin on her face, “So, no singing this morning?”

Recalling the drunken state he had been in at the club, Bucky smiled and replied, "I can start doing it right now, but my voice isn't gonna sound great."

Roxanne raised an eyebrow and teased, "Are you really going to sing when no one else is here to listen to that beautiful voice?"

Bucky paused for a moment, contemplating Roxanne's words. Suddenly, a mischievous glint appeared in his eye as he declared, "Why not? I thought it’d be better to just sing for you."

"Oh, John, you’re killing me." Roxanne replied, getting up from her desk. Bucky looked up at the clock on the wall, once again realizing that he couldn’t stay at the clinic much longer. Roxanne saw his desperation as she now stood face to face with him.

"What’s got you all in a hurry this morning?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment before speaking, his eyes locked on hers. "I wanted to see you before I go." he said simply.

“I must’ve made quite the impression for you to decide to come back and see me.” Roxanne stated jokingly, trying to ease the nervous pilot in front of her, who was forced to hold back his laughter.

“John, what is it?” She grew worried as Bucky’s face went stern again.

“Look, I know we’ve only known each other for a couple weeks, but I miss seeing your face, Roxanne. I want to stay in touch, even when I'm on missions. I want to get to know you better." Bucky said, his eyes searching hers for a reaction.

Roxanne was taken aback by his words, her heart racing with excitement. She had been drawn to him since the minute he came up to that stage and sang with her, his confidence and humorous demeanor never leaving Roxanne’s mind. And now, he was standing in front of her, wanting her to stick around with him longer. She wouldn’t have expected that from someone like him, but she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.

"How could I say no to a request like that?" Roxanne said softly, a smile tugging at her lips.

"You make sure to come back to me in one piece. I’d like to keep getting those letters for as long as I can. I’ve got to pass time around here somehow.” Roxanne looked up at the ceilings of the clinic, sighing at the fact that she only saw the same four walls everyday.

“And maybe after I come back, we can pass time outside of this place. Get to know each other more.” Bucky grinned softly.

Roxanne nodded, a smile plastered across her face. "I'm looking forward to it."

Bucky's eyes lit up at her response, and he took a step closer to her. Their faces were close enough, close enough for Bucky to see the luminosity of Roxanne’s emerald orbs.

He felt so happy and enamored, he assumed Roxanne felt that way too. He couldn’t leave without showing her how much she meant to him.

Without warning, he slowly leaned in to kiss her, but Roxanne pushed her palm against his chest to stop him, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Bucky immediately distanced himself from her, his smile quickly fading as the pang of rejection set in.

"I'm sorry, John-" Roxanne stammered, looking down at her hands.

Bucky's expression fell slightly, but he nodded in understanding. “No, no. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

As the moment hung awkwardly between them, the shrill sound of a voice calling out Bucky's name shattered the silence.

Bucky's friend, Buck, stood at the entrance of the clinic, watching as his friend stood in embarrassment in front of Roxanne. Bucky cursed under his breath. Just when he thought he could finally leave things official with Roxanne, he realized he had taken it too far.

"I have to go," Bucky said, his voice tinged with regret. "But you keep an eye out for those letters.”

Roxanne nodded, a look of unease played on her face. She felt so stupid pulling away from him like that.

Bucky turned on his foot, quickly making his way out of the clinic.

"John, wait," she called out, her voice filled with desperation. He turned around to see Roxanne walking up to him, her shiny brunette locks bouncing as she walked down the hall. And before he knew what was happening, she reached up and gently placed a kiss on his cheek.

The gesture took Bucky by surprise, and he stood there, frozen in place as he tried to process what had just happened.

“Stay safe out there, John.” Roxanne looked up at him, her gaze unwavering, and he could see the love and longing in her eyes.

In that moment, Bucky realized just how much she meant to him, and he knew he couldn't let her go. She had such an influence on him.

He wrapped his strong arms around Roxanne, pulling her into his warm embrace. Bucky found it hard to pull away from her.

Roxanne rubbed her thumb glided across Bucky’s neck, her head resting on his shoulder. She whispered softly in his ear, “I’m serious. If you don’t keep your promise to take me out, I’m not sure how I’m going to feel.”

Even with the many women he had been accompanied by in the past, he could never compare those feelings to the ones he had for Roxanne. With her, conversations didn’t feel forced. It was all genuine feelings from the heart.

Even when they weren’t flirting and just having a friendly conversation, Bucky felt like he had someone.

“Will do, Miss Vernon. Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone.”

“I’ll be lucky if I can make it out of this clinic, Major.” Roxanne followed Bucky out of the clinic.

She watched as he joined his friend outside the door. As she waved at him from the doorway, she couldn't help but feel angry at herself. Why didn’t she just accept his kiss?

She couldn’t deny the attraction she felt towards Bucky, but she knew that rushing into anything could end in heartache. She had only met with him once. She didn’t know if he would be one for commitment.

In Roxanne’s mind, she believed she was nothing more than a fling for him. Something temporary to keep his mind off of his work.

Even if Bucky might not have come to her begging to get into bed with her, Roxanne still wanted to take things slow.

She knew she was young and felt that there was no need to rush things. She had so much she still wanted to do.

If Bucky wanted, he could have any woman, any woman other than Roxanne. He was attractive, had a personality that could make a woman fall to her knees- what more would someone like him need?

Roxanne shrugged off those thoughts. It was her mind getting the best of her.

As she sat back down at her desk, Roxanne couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions- surprise, nerves, and a hint of excitement. She had never expected Bucky to show an interest in her, and she wasn't quite sure how to process it all.

She wondered if he would really stick around and keep his promise to write to her, or if this was just going to become a short-lived moment of connection between them. But she wouldn’t know until she tested the waters.

• • •

Two weeks later

"Roxanne," Bucky said, leaning against the bed frame as Roxanne continued to sort paperwork, keeping her back turned to Bucky. "I want to take you to the city this weekend. Have a proper date, just the two of us."

Roxanne's eyes widened in surprise, but then a smile spread across her face. "I honestly didn’t think you’d remember."

Bucky furrowed his brow, confused. "Of course I’d remember. I haven’t taken a hit to the head yet."

Roxanne chuckled, shaking her head. "Hey, I’m not holding it against you. We’ve both been pretty caught up with work."

“Doesn’t mean I won’t take you out. Work isn’t the only thing I live for, Vernon.”

“I know, but I’m not going to force you to take me out if you don’t have time-”

“We’ll go out tonight ," he said quickly, cutting Roxanne off. "I've got a weekend pass. All you gotta do is give me the word, and we’re outta here."

“You got an idea of where we’ll be going if I decide to say yes? I’d like to dress accordingly.”

She’d look hot in a damn bikini for Christ’s sake, Bucky thought. He looked Roxanne up and down, admiring the way her uniform hugged her body so nicely. He would never be one to stare when she was looking, and he thanked god that her back was turned to him.

“I was thinking some fancy restaurant. You look nice in dresses.” He said casually, leaving Roxanne in a state of shock.

“Are you flirting with me, Major?” She asked, trying to sound nonchalant but secretly enjoying his indirect compliments. The way Major sounded coming off her tongue made a Bucky feel a way he couldn’t describe.

He laughed, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “Maybe. How else am I going to get this lovely lady to go out with me?”

Roxanne's smile widened. She dropped her files on the bed in front of her, then turned to face Bucky. "Fine. You’ve got yourself a deal."

Bucky nodded, containing the eagerness within him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Roxanne’s. The sight of her perfect curls and red lips left him mesmerized. He wanted to kiss those lips so badly.

He could hear his heart beating quickly, almost to point it was beating out of his chest. "What time?"

Roxanne glanced over the thin silver watch on her wrist. “I don’t get off work till’ four, so let’s make it seven.”

Just then, the echo of laughter and chatter got closer to the clinic. Roxanne and Bucky paused, both closely watching the door, where Sandra and Jean came barging in.

“Seven it is.” Bucky nodded at Roxanne, then made his way out of the clinic just as the ladies were approaching them.

Bucky stood inches away from the door, but not before he stopped in his tracks, hearing Roxanne shout from the other side of the clinic.

“Seven o’ clock, Major. Don’t be late.”

Bucky nodded eagerly, mock saluting the brunette. "Yes, ma’am."

#mota #mota fanfic #masters of the air #major john egan #bucky egan #john egan #major john egan x oc #john egan x oc #bucky egan x oc

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