True North

by AWriter159

Summary:

Struggling to defy expectations during the height of WWII, Captain Stella Frank is determined to prove her worth as an Air Transport Auxiliary Pilot in the male-dominated world of aviation. As she navigates the skies with skill and determination, she encounters a diverse array of characters, each with their own struggles and triumphs. Among them is Major John "Bucky" Egan, whose charm, bravery, and dedication to his fellow pilots catch Frank's attention amidst the chaos of war. Can they navigate not only the treacherous skies but also the complexities of love and loyalty in a time of uncertainty and sacrifice? Or are they doomed to go down in flames like the world around them?

Chapter 1: I

Notes:

Hello!

If you don’t follow me or my work, I currently have two published stories in the Outer Banks fandom, with the third to be posted in the next few days. I’ve been (silently) looking at other fandoms I could branch out into when inspiration is lacking for my OBX story, and after some suggestions on Tumblr, I think I’ve landed on Masters of the Air!

Right now the tentative plan is update this story once a week, ideally sometime over each weekend. I hope you enjoy the first chapter, I can’t wait to read your thoughts!

So, without further ado:

I.

“You’re flyin’ today, Frank!” 

The loud accented voice filled her ears, the brunette squinting her eyes closed tightly as she heard footsteps echoing all around the shared room, the sounds of trunks opening and closing joining in a moment later. She’d just been on the verge of a delicious dream with Gary Cooper’s character from The Westerner when Dorothy Skylar’s voice interrupted their suggestive conversation, her friend rudely butting into the fantasy.

“If you don’t get up, they’ll give your spot to the boys!”

“Ok!” Frank lifted her arm into the air, waving it around to signal she was, in fact, alive, “ok! I’m up—I’m getting up. Keep your panties on.”

“We call ‘em knickers ‘round here, love!” Dorothy’s laughter bounced along the walls, mixing in with the various posters, postcards, photos, and letters pinned above each of the beds, “if you’re going to talk about them, get it right!”

“You are all so irritating,” Frank shifted into a sitting position, the thin strap of her silk tank-top falling over her shoulder as she pressed the heel of her palm into her eye, “does no one like to sleep in anymore?”

“Haven’t had the luxury in years, darling,” Dorothy finished buckling her belt, pausing briefly in the full-length mirror as she adjusted the pins in her curls, “while you Americans have been ignoring what’s been going on across the Atlantic, we’ve been living this nightmare for years.”

“Well—at least it’s a shared one now,” Frank rested the back of her hand against her mouth as she stifled a yawn, “alright, I’m getting up. Where am I going?”

“Thorpe Abbotts,” Dorothy glanced over her shoulder to look at Frank as the shorter woman moved around her bed and over to her trunk, pushing aside piles of unfolded clothing to find her uniform, “should be a quick flight, you’ll be back before dark.”

“Maybe,” Frank disrobed and redressed once her undergarments were secured, Dorothy averting her eyes as Frank changed before messing with her hair, “we’ll see—last time I flew the airfield manager wouldn’t let me off the plane until he’d spoken to at least three men, one of whom was ranked lower than me.”

Dorothy only hummed, both women more than aware of how difficult it could sometimes be ferrying planes to and from airfields and bases, especially if the Americans were involved. It was still shocking to most men that women flew—and while the program in the US was slowly getting off the ground, the British had fully embraced female pilots, the Air Transport Auxiliary allowing women to help ferry new, repaired, and damaged aircraft between factories, plants, airfields, and squadrons. Frank had jumped at the chance to fly, to do something for the war effort that wasn’t working in a factory—she had well over four-hundred hours of flight time in the US, and while the United States Army Air Forces wasted time debating on whether or not you needed a dick to fly, she bypassed the red tape and joined the ATA shortly after Jacqueline Cochran led the first group to England. Fast forward two years later and Frank found herself an active member of the No. 6 Ferry Pool, doing whatever she could, whenever she could. 

“Are you going to see that boy of yours?” Dorothy asked, nodding towards one of the folded letters on Frank’s nightstand, the corner of it peeking out from under one of her journals.

Frank shook her head as she finished buttoning up her flight suit, the material heavy, thick, and too big for her frame before sliding on the sheepskin jacket. That was another thing about being a female pilot—there weren’t any uniforms to fit the female body, the material often baggy on her arms and legs, but tight across her hips. “He went down a few months ago over the North Sea,” Frank mentally scolded herself for not tossing the letter after she heard the news. They hadn’t been that close—a few afternoon dates when she found herself on overnight trips to London and he happened to be there, brief memories of them sneaking around hallways, bodies pressed up against walls as they sought comfort and distraction in one another. He was from Texas and smelled like home, reminding her of easier times, when she was just trying to find direction in life. But like that experience, he was gone and she was left to figure out which way was North once again. 

“Frank…”

“It’s fine,” Frank reached for her bag, Dorothy pausing at the doorway, eyes cloudy with regret as she watched her friend pass her, pressing the heavy wooden door open as both women stepped out into the hallway of the dormitory the ATA housed them in, “it’s war.”

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t mean something…that it doesn’t hurt…”

“I thought you were British,” Frank pushed the emotion and tears away, scolding her heart for clenching as she turned to walk backwards, pressing a finger onto Dorothy’s badged chest, “aren’t you supposed to ‘stiff upper lip’ everything?”

Dorothy only rolled her eyes, the girls exiting the building a few moments later, the cloudy gray English sky greeting them as they crossed the pathway towards the waiting trucks, “have I ruined your flight time?” Dorothy asked quietly once they were in the back of the truck, eyeing her friend as Frank leaned heavily against the side, “you’re not going to be distracted are you? You’re flying a Class 5 aircraft today—you need to be focused.”

“I’m fine,” Frank waved her off, “and even if I wasn’t, I’d be fine once I’m in the air. Trust me, that’s the only place my mind doesn’t wander.”

Dorothy didn’t appear convinced, but didn’t push the matter, the girls sitting in silence the rest of the ride to the airfield. Planes dotted the landscape, the tower looming in the background. Most of the planes would find homes on other bases or airfields, another tool for the boys to use in their battles. For a while it felt like production was stalling, they had so few to ferry around, but it seemed in the last year or so it had definitely picked up, so many different classes of aircraft ready to be delivered to the Allies. Frank hadn’t yet flown into Thorpe Abbotts, the Royal Air Force station just a handful of miles to the east of Diss, Norfolk. It was fairly new, having been built the previous year, but once the United States Army Air Forces took possession of the airfield, it seemed like activity was picking up. 

The boys at Thorpe Abbotts seemed to be going through planes like candy, and Frank was pretty sure this was their fifth ferry to the airfield in less than two weeks. Typically they flew to the smaller satellite bases once a month, maybe twice if there were mechanical issues, but five times in two weeks? Something was definitely going on in East Anglia. She’d heard low rumblings of the amount of planes that went down during their missions from the British pilots—the men criticizing the Americans for bombing during the day rather than waiting until evening. One conversation she overheard at dinner a few weeks ago seemed to be about the station and how they kept losing men to dumb tactical decisions. “It’s war,” one of the heavier accented men had said, slumped backwards in his chair as he rested a beer on the table, “you do what you need to survive.”

“...are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

Frank’s eyes snapped back to those of Commander Dorothy Skylar’s, the three gold stripes she wore on the shoulder strap of her jacket seeming to catch in what little sunlight they had today, making Frank’s two stripes seem even less important than they already felt. “Yes, sorry,” Frank shook her head and the memories away, forcing herself back into the present, “I was just thinking about Thorpe Abbotts and some of the conversations that I’ve heard in passing about it.”

“They’re losing men and planes at a rapid rate of speed,” Dorothy nodded, glancing down at the folder of papers Frank just realized the woman was carrying, “I don’t think this will be your last ferry there.”

“No,” Frank turned her head as she watched the massive Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress come into view, eyes slowly taking in the matte green of the plane, white lettering and stars decorating the wings and body, “no, I don’t think it will be either.”

The girls scrambled out of the truck when it came to a stop, their male driver neither acknowledging nor checking with them before he sped off, Dorothy just barely clearing the rear left bumper as he turned. “Fucker,” Dorothy whispered under her breath as they crossed the tarmac, “we fly planes and he drives a truck—yet we’re still the gum under his shoe.”

“Men are babies,” Frank said as she approached the plane, left arm extending to slide across the edge of the wing, “they move from one tit to another, starting with their mother’s, until they die.”

Dorothy laughed, shaking her head as she watched Frank move through the checklist she had memorized by now, a few of the engineers hovering nearby if needed. A younger woman, who appeared to be just barely over eighteen approached quickly a handful of minutes later, clipboard pressed tightly to her chest, “Stella Frank?”

“Captain,” Frank corrected her, the girl almost shrinking back in on herself as she looked over at Dorothy for approval, but the higher ranked commander only stared back blankly, “it’s Captain Frank.”

“Yes—yes, Captain Frank,” the woman shuffled a few papers around as Frank came to stand beside Dorothy, both women waiting as she handed over a thin packet of instructions, hand shaking as she did, “here are your pilot notes, I’m so sorry they weren’t delivered sooner.”

“Thank you…” Frank waited expectantly but the girl didn’t appear to catch on that Frank was waiting for her name, and instead smiled politely at both women before scurrying off. 

“Must you be so brash all the time?” Dorothy asked once the girl was out of ear shot, “I think today’s her first day.”

“Then she’s lucky she stumbled across me,” Frank flipped open the folder, eyeing the notes that gave her heading and speed instructions, as well as landing information, “if it’d been Ryan or Phillips she’d be on a plane back to the states right about now with wet knickers.”

“You’re not wrong,” Dorothy squinted up towards the sky, “you better get on with it—you’re due at Thorpe Abbotts in a few hours. You might get held up for a bit after you land, I think you’re ferrying back one of the planes that took heavier fire, so be safe.” Frank saluted her commander and Dorothy only rolled her eyes, “and watch for the fog, alright? I don’t know if Carol put it in the notes, but the fog around the airfield is sometimes incredibly thick. The boys may not see you until you’re landing.”

“And they have seen a woman before, right?” Frank lifted her eyebrows and Dorothy only shrugged playfully, “this isn’t one of the groups where there’s hardly any women on base and I’ll feel like a monkey at the zoo, right?” Dorothy took a few steps back in the direction of one of the metal buildings along the tarmac, a wide smile across her face. Frank only raised her voice to be heard, “right?”

“Don’t fall in love, Captain!” Dorothy called back, “we’ll see you back later tonight.”

---

When the wheels touched down onto runway four, Frank released the breath she always held when she came in for a landing. The heavy plane landed well and in one piece, Frank glancing out the side windows at the airfield around her. Metal buildings lined up along one side of the tarmac—what appeared to be farms and fields on the other. A few planes were positioned off to the side, but as she taxied in, the B-17 slowing, Frank realized there weren’t nearly as many planes as she assumed there would be. Typically on other bases she’d touched down on, the aircrafts were all lined up, either being maintained or waiting for their moment in the sun, but this tarmac was unusually empty.

Frank continued forward, eyes scanning the landscape before her, a handful of children ran through the grass beside the runway, waving her in. She chuckled softly into her mask, lifting a hand in their direction, even though she wasn’t sure they could see her so far away. The taxi was simple with no other planes to compete with, the B-17 sliding into its spot easily, as if it had always been there. The propellers slowed to a stop gradually as Frank went through her landing checklist, eyes scanning the instruments on her desh before removing her mask and unbuckling her harness. 

She could still feel the vibrations in her fingers as she pulled her gloves off, heart racing like it always did after she landed safely on the ground. There was no adrenaline rush quite like flying, especially in these massive four engine planes. Planes that were specifically designed to stir shit up—dropping bombs high and fast up in the clouds. Frank removed her helmet as she climbed out of the seat, making her way towards the back of the plane, crossing the bombay catwalk. She eyed the empty space, knowing that soon enough there would be bombs stacked up, ready to be unleashed in a moment’s notice. She could feel the wind coming through the openings in the bottom where the landing gear would normally rest during flight, giving her a nice view of the massive wheels and as she slipped through the doorway, bypassing the gunner positions, she approached the hatch before pulling on the handle and sliding down out of the Flying Fortress in one quick motion. 

She wasn’t used to having ladders or stairs to climb in and out of the planes and Frank was thankful that they allowed them to wear the men’s jumpsuits and uniforms, knowing that skirts on tarmacs would become very indecent, very quickly. The jump down wasn’t too far and when her boots hit the solid ground she could hear a car engine in the distance approaching. The B-17 itself was still coming down from its own adrenaline rush, and while Frank waited for her ears to pop and the plane to fully settle, she slipped her helmet off, fingers gliding across her scalp to make sure her hair wasn’t in complete disarray. It was longer than it should’ve been, but Frank refused to cut it after one of the male CO’s commented on how women were too distracted by their hair to fly planes and she’d since made it a point to keep her hair long and fly at the same time. 

It reached mid back when it wasn’t pinned up, but on flying days she always smoothed it out before twisting it into a bun at the back of her neck, keeping it out of her face and inside the helmet her first priority. She wasn’t typically one to fuss with her hair more than usual, but when she was landing on a base she hadn’t been to before, she always liked to keep everything as tidy as possible—first impressions were important and she needed them to look past her tits and ass. Thankfully the boxy uniforms helped just ever so slightly with that goal. 

The car engine grew closer as Frank wrapped her fingers around her bag’s handle, the one that held a change of clothes, her pilot notes, and other personal belongings in the event she didn’t make it back right away. It was much smaller than the one the boys carried, hers didn’t have a firearm nor any life saving or wound care supplies, although she did manage to shove a few wads of gauze in there after one of the girls she trained with crash landed during their first drill. The unattended Red Cross truck had been right there and after seeing the amount of blood pouring down the side of the woman’s face, Frank knew she had to have something to help. They didn’t fly fast, and oftentimes not as high as they could, but in a real situation, she knew she’d be on her own. 

“It’s every woman for herself,” Dorothy had explained to her not long after she took over as Frank’s CO, “do what you need to survive, because no one is coming for you.”

They didn’t have the resources to save women—every ounce of safety and security and rescue being reserved for the boys. The pilots who were actually fighting in the war. Frank allowed the thoughts to trail off, squinting up ahead as she watched an open air truck roll up around the plane. Two men sat up front, one in a full dress uniform while the other wore a jumpsuit. Frank envied the sunglasses covering the driver’s eyes, Dorothy had said there would be fog and clouds, but all Frank found was clear sky and sunshine. Just as the truck came to a stop a handful of feet away did the ground crew arrive, taking over securing the airplane with blocks, a few slipping inside to confirm that everything was good before they signed off on the paperwork in her bag.

“You’ve caused quite the stir around here,” the voice of the driver reached her ears first, although it still sounded like she was underwater, her ears not having adjusted just yet. American and playful, Frank prepared herself for the worst. “I think every man on this airfield is waitin’ to get a look at the girl who flew in on a B-17.”

“You haven’t had many ferries lately, I take it,” Frank responded back, the truck engine dying as the driver slipped from the front. His long legs were folded under the steering wheel before he climbed out, first one boot and then the other landing on the tarmac. She could see from her position that he was a Major—the gold symbol winking at her in the sun. His car companion didn’t seem to bother with her—he looked much younger and less interested in conversation, lifting a hand politely to her as he made his way around the plane, frowning up at it as if it had insulted him. 

“Don’t pay him any mind.” Frank’s attention shifted back to the driver, watching him slide his sunglasses off his face, lazy smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “he’s only nineteen—doesn’t know that when life’s presented him the opportunity to talk to a beautiful woman, he should take it.”

Frank took him in, eyes gliding past the barely-there mustache and boyish grin, “is that what you’re doing now?”

His dark blue eyes danced in amusement, the same shade of the sky right before it rained, “doesn’t seem to be working, though, does it?”

“I wish I could say you’re the first,” Frank walked towards the truck, the man pivoting as he watched her move around to the passenger side, “although I appreciate you not calling me ‘sweetheart’ as soon as I stepped out.”

“I usually reserved that one for my boys,” he responded back easily, moving towards the car once he realized what she was doing, her bag landing in the back seat, “but play your cards right and we could work our way up to ‘buddy’ or something.”

Frank laughed, resting her hands on the side of the truck before climbing in, taking a little comfort in the warmth of the sun as it thawed her bones from the cold air aloft, “you have another one for me to take back, I believe?” Frank asked as the man climbed into the driver’s seat, body hunching as he reached down to turn it back on, squinting over at her as she spoke. 

“Easy now,” he gave the truck an easy tap, the engine roaring to life as he shifted it, “we just met—you’ll need to tell me your name first before I go and let you look at my plane.”

“Cute.”

“Awww, thanks,” his grin widened out, eyes twinkling, “you’re not too hard on the eyes, either.” Frank only shook her head, but she couldn’t fight the amused smile that fell across her lips, watching as he slipped his sunglasses back on, steering the truck with one hand as he maneuvered it around the front of the B-17. “Name’s Bucky,” he said as they started down the long stretch of runway towards the handful of metal buildings, “in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

Bucky laughed, head tilting back, “I’ve only been out here a handful of days, and it’s been about a thousand times worse than I thought it was gonna be—but this conversation right here has to be the highlight.”

“Glad to be of service,” Frank slipped a few stray pieces of hair behind her ear, eyes raking across the green grass and the darker green trees up ahead, “you’ve only been here a few days?”

“Mhmm,” the teasing note seemed to die off, a slight frown stretched out across his forehead as he drove, “what about you?”

“This is my first time at Thorpe Abbotts.”

“Not surprising,” Bucky said, “we only took over the station a few months ago. Have you flown with the ATA long…?”

“About a year,” Frank replied, “there was a handful of months in training, and you have to start off with smaller aircraft. I’ve only been flying the B-17s for about four months now.”

“I’m impressed.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Frank watched the buildings come closer, making out figures along the raised platforms watching them approach, “it’s not that hard.”

Bucky laughed again and Frank eyed the way his smile stretched across his face, shaking his head as his wrist dangled along the steering wheel of the truck. A comfortable silence fell as Bucky approached one of the larger buildings, the tower just a few buildings over from that. The truck came to a stop not long after and Frank slipped out of the truck as Bucky unfolded himself from the front, reaching back to grab her bag. Frank was about to protest when he held it out to her as he rounded the front of the car. She reached for it and he winked at her as she took it from him before following him up the steps, the pilots approaching a few waiting uniformed men. 

Before anyone could say anything, Bucky slipped his hands into the pockets of his open sheepskin jacket, tilting his head towards her, “Captain Frank, this is Colonel Huglin and Major Kidd. Gentlemen, Captain Frank—she’ll be ferrying our old girl back to Colerne, free up some of Lemmons’ time.” Bucky glanced down at her and Frank found herself momentarily stunned, searching his face as he studied hers, slow smile pulling at the right side of his mouth, “I think you’ve got…a few hours before she’s air ready. I’ll show you where you can regroup.” 

After Frank nodded politely to the two men Bucky introduced her to, she wordlessly followed the Major through a few buildings. It took the entire walk to the small, albeit clean washroom for Frank to gather her thoughts, half-listening while he pointed out the mess and a few areas for relaxation. As Bucky reached around her to open the door to the washroom, Frank lifted her eyes to look up at him, watching as he leaned against the door frame as if he’d always been there. 

“How did you…” 

“Oh—I read your file ‘bout an hour ago,” Bucky shrugged easily, “I like to know everyone who comes and goes through my airfield.” 

“I see.” Frank shook her head, “but you asked for my name…” 

“Just ‘cause I know it, doesn’t mean I get to use it,” Bucky shrugged, “anyway—I’ll leave you alone now. I’ll be back over near the tarmac, I’m sure I’ll see you before you take off.” 

Frank didn’t often find herself at a loss for words, watching as Bucky bowed his head before pushing off the door frame, but as she stood there watching him make his way back in the direction they came, she couldn’t help but eye the way the jacket pulled along his shoulders, the playful step he had as he crossed the distance. She pegged him as a flyboy right from the start, the glasses and grin making it easy to group him in with all the other smooth talking pilots out there, ones who only really wanted her on her knees, rather than in the cockpit, but as Bucky’s lean form grew smaller and smaller she couldn’t help but take him out of that box, allowing him to hover in the unknown until she decided what to do about it later. 

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed it! I hope you're intrigued! Let me know what you think! I'd love to continue it but if we don't like it (or it's totally off beat) we can all pretend this didn't happen and I'll go back to the OBX. Hahaha. Let me know! I love to read your thoughts!

Also, come join our Masters of the Air chats if you’re on tumblr!

Chapter 2: II

II.

Frank finished up a pleasant conversation with one of the nurses in the infirmary shortly before exiting the building. She’d been given a quick look over, as protocol stated, and was on her way back to the tarmac, ready for the next leg of her day to begin. The sky overhead was still clear, and Frank had just taken a moment to admire the picturesque countryside when sirens went off. It was dull, at first, but slowly grew louder, catching the attention of both the soldiers and civilians, everyone’s attention turning to the sky.

Frank slowly found her way back onto the concrete platform outside of one of the buildings, the same one Bucky had led her up to after first arriving, and she watched with both curiosity and awe as a long line of B-17s came into view, each dropping down from what little clouds there were. She leaned against the railing slightly, knowing she wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon when the door behind her opened and out stepped Bucky. He was dressed the same, but the playful expression he’d held during their earlier encounter was completely wiped from his face. Instead of paying her any mind, his eyes were glued to the sky, taking in each of the planes as it came into view. 

The sirens continued to sound, mixing in with the unmistakable rumble of a fleet of B-17s when the door opened again a moment later. Frank watched one of the men she’d been introduced to by Bucky earlier step out, a pair of binoculars in his hand. “How many?” He asked but Bucky only shook his head, absently reaching for the binoculars before bringing them up to his eyes. Frank wanted to stare, curious as to what was going on, but instead she looked back up at the B-17s, the first one moving into landing formation, landing gear slowly coming out of the aircraft. 

“Seventeen.” Bucky lowered the binoculars, handing them back to the man, keeping his eyes on the sky, as if he were waiting for more to appear. A sickening feeling filled Frank’s gut, her eyes shifting from the clouds to Bucky, watching his eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes scanning the horizon. She could see in the way he gritted his jaw—the way he swallowed just a little harder than the other man beside him that this wasn’t good. That whatever was happening wasn’t the ideal outcome. 

“That’s what I’ve got,” the man, Frank was pretty sure Bucky said his name was Kidd, replied slowly, “that’s two missing.”

“Fuck,” Bucky slipped his hand into his hair, keeping an eye up at the sky as the first B-17 dropped down onto the runway, each of the planes following behind in order after that. Bucky seemed to be waiting until the last of the seventeen B-17s landed, each one finding their home on the airfield. Ground crews scrambled in a way Frank had never seen before, her eyes following each of them as they dispersed to the various planes. A few of the Dodge WC-54 Ambulances took off and Frank found herself holding her breath, eyes glued to the red cross as it hauled ass down the runway. Were there injuries? Casualties?

Bucky didn’t move from his position at the railing until the last B-17 landed and began its taxi into position, the taller man running a hand down his face before sighing unhappily. “Alright—let’s get to it.” She watched Major Kidd turn, moving towards the staircase before Bucky turned to look at her, “I’ll get you up in the air as soon as the runways are cleared, there’s a phone inside if you need to make a call about delays. It shouldn’t take longer than an hour to get you up.” Frank only nodded, watching the way Bucky gave the sky one last final glance before disappearing down the staircase. 

True to Bucky’s word, it didn’t take longer than forty minutes to get the runways cleared, the ground crew coasting out the damaged B-17 in need of further repairs. The poor thing looked rough, although not nearly as bad as the ones that landed not an hour ago looked. Frank had never seen so many holes blown through steel, her eyes still drifting off to the side where some of the harder hit planes were. “An interesting first visit, huh?” 

Frank’s eyes shifted to a younger man as he approached, hand running along the wing of the plane she’d be ferrying, “it’s never a dull day when you’re at war, I suppose.”

“You got that right,” his voice was lightly accented for an American one, but she couldn’t place where he was from, “I’m John—but everyone calls me Winks.”

“Winks,” Frank parroted back, watching as he pulled a rag from his coverall pocket and wiped his hands clean before holding one out to her, “I’m Frank.”

“Oh, I know,” he chuckled as if it were a private joke, eyes lifting to glance upwards at the plane they hovered under after she shook his hand, “I think everyone knows who you are by now.”

“I think there’s probably a hundred or so men who don’t,” Frank nodded in the direction the trucks had loaded up the men after they landed, “but it’s nice to know word spread.”

“Oh yeah—you gave ‘em something to talk about other than the mission,” Winks said, “we haven’t had a lady pilot come in yet, so it was a shock to some of them.”

“Some of them,” Frank slid one of her hands into the pocket of her jacket, glancing over at him, “but not you?”

“Nothing phases me anymore, Miss.”

“Captain,” Frank corrected, although a little lighter than she had done earlier, “you don’t need to call me Miss.”

“My momma wouldn’t like that too much—”

“Good thing she’s not here, then.” Frank’s head turned as she watched Bucky approach, eyes shifting back and forth between them. She had been so into studying the plane and listening to Winks that she hadn’t even heard the truck pull up or Bucky get out of it, “ready to fly, Captain?”

Frank had been around long enough to pick up on the look Bucky and Winks shared, the grounds member nodding to her before moving back to his work, leaving her alone with Bucky. “I can’t decide if you embarrassed him or irritated him.”

“Probably both,” Bucky moved around her, looking up at the plane as he took it in, “we patched her up as best we could, but I think the boys at the plant are gonna need to take a longer look. There was a problem with the landing gear, we babied it for now, so you’ll get there just fine, but it needs more attention than we can spare at the moment.”

Frank turned her head to look at the fleet of B-17s that returned from their bombing mission, most of them with damage to the wings and bodies, “is that…a regular occurance…?”

Bucky slipped his own hands into the pockets of his sheepskin jacket, shoulders rolling back as he turned to look at the planes with her, “I wish I could say it wasn’t.”

Frank had probably a hundred more questions but she kept them to herself, instead turning her attention back to the plane in front of her, the one she’d be flying for the next two hours, “I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Bucky smiled back at her, watching as Frank picked up the bag she set down not long before she spoke with Winks, “safe flight, alright? I wanna see you back on my tarmac soon.”

Frank rolled her eyes back at him, moving towards the hatch, “is that so?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky took a few steps back, maintaining eye contact as he walked backwards towards the truck, “I have questions.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Frank raised her hand, ready to hoist herself up.

“Only the ones who don’t tell me their name.”

Frank laughed as she lifted herself up and into the body of the plane, closing the hatch behind her as she made her way past the gunner positions and down the catwalk, slipping easily into the pilot’s seat after stowing her bag. She slid on her helmet as she went through her preflight checks, mask hanging off to the side as she started each of the engines one at a time. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Bucky leaning back against the hood of the truck, arms folded across his chest, legs crossed at the ankles and she may have thought he was simply relaxing if he hadn’t been focused on her plane. 

Tucking some of her hair back into the helmet, Frank buckled herself in before the familiar static of the tower buzzed at her, “clear for takeoff, Captain. The runway is yours.”

Frank thanked the man on the other end before she maneuvered the B-17 into its proper taxi-ing position. The ground crew guided her to the correct runway and as she reached her starting point, the plane roaring to life as it prepared for take-off, she couldn’t help but glance back towards the Major leaning against the truck. He seemed to know she was looking at him and slowly he lifted his hand off his arm, two fingers saluting her before she pushed forwards on the wheel, the aircraft taking off down the runway a moment later. 

---

As a female pilot, there were significantly more upsides than downsides to flying with the ATA. She was given the opportunity to train with the best of the best, the opportunity to fly with both men and women, all of whom were of different shapes, sizes, and nationalities, many of whom had different skill sets and methods of flying. However, if Frank had to narrow down one of the downsides to ferrying for the ATA, it was the ride back to base. Typically, there were enough assignments and planes to eventually get her back to RAF Ratcliffe, even if that meant hopping in one as a passenger. But every so often, there came a time when there was no air transport and she was left with ground transportation. Which meant hours on the road back to base. 

By the time Frank arrived back to Ratcliffe, the sun was set and her stomach rumbled. Her jumpsuit stuck to her back, the material too thick and heavy for lengthy trips that didn’t occur in the colder air up above. The baby strands of hair stuck to her forehead and Frank wasn’t sure she’d ever been so happy to get back to the dormitories, looking forward to showering as soon as she could. 

“My, my,” a southern voice broke through her thoughts, Frank’s eyes shifting to the side as she entered the female dormitory. Beds lined up both walls of the long room, as well as in the middle. Each bed had a trunk and nightstand, most of which were cluttered with personal items and trinkets, “look who finally showed up.”

Captain Rose Phillips was one of the girls who arrived in the UK with Frank. They went through training and their first handful of ferries together, working side by side for the last year or so. Rose had pretty, fiery red hair that matched her personality, and she was a damn good pilot too, having gotten out of a few close calls over the last several months, engine failure being one of the most recent scares. “I caught a lift back,” Frank explained, tugging the pins out of her hair as she walked past Rose’s cot, “took fuckin’ forever.”

“If you’d been on time, you would’ve caught the transport home,” Dorothy sat on her own bed a handful of cots away, eyes down on one of the letters from home she received on a weekly basis, “I told you not to be late.”

“There was a situation at Thorpe Abbotts,” Frank unbuttoned her flight suit, her clammy skin thankful for the chance to breathe as it hung off her frame, the tank top she always wore under it a little damp from sweating so much, “I didn’t have a choice.”

“I’ve heard there’s a lot of situations there,” Rose leaned back on her hands, hair in rollers as she looked back at Frank, “one of the soldiers down at the pub has a betting pool to see how long it takes for the RAF to take back over.”

“The RAF probably needs to worry about their own airfields,” Frank said, “but, they were nice at least. I didn’t have to wait for three rounds of approval before they let me out of the aircraft.”

“That is a plus,” Rose nodded, “I hate when they request pilots instead of female pilots. It’s good to know we won’t lose this one, then.”

“No, they didn’t seem to have any issues with that,” Frank shook her head, “which is surprising—normally it’s the US Army Air Forces that complicate things. Has there been any word on what’s happening back home?”

“With the female pilots?” Rose asked and Frank nodded. Over the last several months they had tried to keep up with politics and if the military was going to allow women in or not, “no—last I heard they’re trying to merge into a larger group. But the newspapers don’t print much about them and my parents still refuse to acknowledge that women can even fly, so they’re no help tracking down information either.”

“Shame,” Frank eased the rest of the way out of her flight suit, fingers sliding through her hair before she reached for her towel, slowly making her way to the adjoining showers, “anything good at dinner tonight?”

“No,” both Rose and Dorothy chorused and Frank only grinned, her laughter echoing throughout the room before she disappeared into the washroom. 

By the time Frank returned back to the dormitory, clean and in a much better mood, Rose was gone, but Dorothy remained on her cot, pen moving rapidly as she wrote back to her parents. Dorothy was from a village in North East England, not too far from Sunderland. Both of her parents still lived there in the cottage she grew up in, and from what few stories Dorothy told of her family, it sounded like her parents were as thrilled as a cat in a rocking chair factory that she joined the ATA. “How was it really?” Dorothy asked as Frank dumped her soiled clothing onto her chest, reaching down for her hairbrush a moment later. 

“What? The shower? Great—highly recommend it. I must’ve sweated off at least three pounds on the ride back to base. So...you know...getting closer to that perfect number the army wants us at.” Frank took a seat on her cot, brush gliding through her wet strands. 

“No,” Dorothy glanced up from her letter, eyeing Frank closely, “Thorpe Abbotts.”

“Oh,” Frank frowned slightly, unsure why Dorothy was questioning her on it again, “fine? Honestly—not a big deal at all. I think some of the bombers just finished up a mission and that’s why I...was…delayed…why are you looking at me like that?”

“We received a call from one of Thorpe Abbotts' Air Execs,” Dorothy slipped the cap back onto her pen as she turned to face Frank fully, “about an hour or so after you took off.”

Frank allowed the brush to still before dropping it onto the side of the bed, frowning back at Dorothy. Calls were never a good sign—and Frank could count on one hand the number of calls from air executives they had all received about wanting a “regular” pilot next time. It was the same story each time, women were too fragile, too worrisome, too distracting to ferry planes over and Frank felt her heart sink at this happening yet again. “I swear, Dot—everything seemed ok. No one fussed, no one gave me a hard time. I let some kid call me ‘miss’ without taking his head off…”

Dorothy chuckled lightly under her breath, shaking her head, “no—no, it wasn’t a bad call. The opposite, in fact.”

Frank waited silently, frown deepening, “opposite…?”

“You’ve been requested,” Dorothy couldn’t help the sly grin across her face as Frank’s shoulder’s dropped, her heart restarting, “any future ferries to Thorpe Abbotts are yours…unless you’re previously scheduled, of course.”

Frank sat there for a long time, staring long and hard at her commanding officer. This had happened before, with other female pilots, of course, but never to Frank. They all laughed and joked about it, usually it was when one of their pilots started seeing another officer or member of the armed forces who was stationed on another base, giving them a chance for a quick rendezvous without having to use up weekend leave hours. 

“So,” Dorothy broke the silence, smile still firmly on her face, “now do you want to tell me what else happened at Thorpe Abbotts?”

Frank shook her head, “I don’t…” Bucky’s face popped up into her mind briefly, and while she didn’t dislike talking to him, she hadn’t exactly thought it was something to write home about. He was sharp and rolled with her punches easily, but Frank assumed it was just something that he did with anyone. People like that always played well with others. “Who requested me?”

“John Egan,” Dorothy said easily, “he’s one of the Air Execs—said he enjoyed talking with you and the other officers on base were pleased with your flying.”

“This has to be a joke,” Frank shook her head, frowning, “I—I spoke to like…two people. They were in the middle of a return mission…what else did he say?”

Dorothy held up her hands, “swear—that’s all. I didn’t take the call personally, but that’s what was relayed to me and that’s what’s been filed. So if you had a bad experience, now’s the time to buck it.”

Frank ignored the choice of words, biting her lip before shaking her head, “no—no, like I said, it was fine.”

The girls sat in silence for a handful of minutes, Frank finishing up brushing her hair while Dorothy finished sliding her letter into the envelope, licking the sticky residue a moment later before sealing it. “So, are you gonna call him?” Frank’s head whipped back to Dorothy, frown in place and lips parted just so that Dorothy almost snorted in laughter. “Easy—I’m not asking you to marry him. Just wondered if you were going to investigate it more.”

“I’m not planning on it.” 

“You should,” Dorothy stood to her feet, hand running down the front of her blouse as she moved towards the door, “might do you some good.”

Frank followed her friend’s movement, frown only deepening, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Take it how you will!” Dorothy grinned over her shoulder. 

“You’re one to talk,” Frank slipped on her housecoat, tying the sash tightly around her waist as she walked after Dorothy, “when’s the last time you painted the town red? At least mine was this year.”

“Oooh,” Dorothy turned on her heel, hand resting on the door frame as she looked back at Frank with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “pussy cat’s got some claws tonight—John Egan must be an interesting man if you’re this worked up over a request.”

“I’m not worked up over it!”

“Ah-ah,” Dorothy bopped her letter across the top of Frank’s head, “you shouldn’t shout at your CO, you know. It’s rather rude.”

Frank turned on her heel, ignoring her friend as she made her way back to her cot, “you’re being ridiculous.”

“If you say so, pot,” Dorothy smiled before ducking out through the door, leaving Frank to huff as she flopped back down onto her cot. 

Frank brushed some of her dark hair over her shoulder before moving to her nightstand, working on straightening it up. She tossed some of the trash and stored a few books that she finished, copies of her favorite novels landing in a heap in her trunk. She just finished throwing away a few stacks of letters when the door to the dormitory opened and in walked a few other female pilots. Most of them were British, only a handful of the already small population of female pilots were American. Frank wasn’t close to them, aside from small talk over meals or walks out to the runway, she didn’t know much about them. They were new, and she was sometimes harsh. Or as Dorothy liked to point out, “a bit rude.”

They chatted as they got ready for bed and Frank tuned them out, her eyes shifting across her trunk as she reorganized it, taking a moment to fold the clothing she had haphazardly tossed in over the last several days. She was mid shirt fold when Dorothy returned, waving in greeting to the girls on the opposite side of the room. Dorothy looked over on her way to her cot, eyebrows lifting curiously as she passed, “distracting ourselves, are we?”

“Oh my God,” Frank lowered her voice once she realized the girls on the other side of the room had glanced over, “you have to stop—nothing happened.”

“Tell me about him,” Dorothy moved back to sit on the edge of Frank’s bed, “you must have had some conversation that made him request you.”

“I think it’s a bullshit thing to do,” Frank shook her head, fingers digging a little harder into one of her nicer blouses, wrinkling the material slightly, “why are they allowed to request us? I’m not a piece of property, just because they were born a man, suddenly we have to jump when they say how high? How fucked up is that?”

“What’s fucked up?” 

Frank and Dorothy turned towards the doorway to see Commander Amelia Ryan walk into the room, still dressed in her uniform, three stripes firmly across her shoulders. “A boy likes Frank,” Dorothy called over her shoulder back to the tall girl. Amelia Ryan was tall, towering over them all at just under six-foot. With the lightest blonde hair and the bluest of eyes, she was the poster-girl for the women’s program in the ATA. The commander had already appeared on numerous bond posters and magazine spreads, and Frank wouldn’t be surprised if after the war she went on to have some kind of career in modeling or entertainment.

“Dorothy.”

“Is that so?” Amelia unbuttoned her uniform jacket as she made her way over to her bed, “I heard about the request that came through today. Is that what this is about?”

“Yes,” both girls chorused and Dorothy only reclined back on Frank’s bed, smug smile across her face as Frank crossed her arms over her chest, sneaking a glare to her friend before she turned to face Amelia, “we shouldn’t allow them to do that—now I won’t be taken seriously and…”

“Or…” Amelia held up a finger, effectively silencing Frank as she ticked off more fingers as she went, “you look at it as a good thing. You’ll get to keep flying the Class 5s, you’ll get good flight time between here and Thorpe Abbotts, and all of that will eventually equal a third stripe. You know requests are considered a good thing—it means you did something right. You don’t know why he requested you. Could it be because he wants to get his dick wet? Sure. But it could also be because he thought you were a good pilot, or because you handled the runway and crews well. Take it for what it is, and get out of your head.”

The silence that stretched on inside the dormitory was deafening and Frank only turned her attention back to Dorothy, glaring at her friend, the Commander only smiling back at her widely. “Love you too, Stell.”

“Get off my bed,” Frank grunted, “you and your fat head are gonna put a divot in it.”

Dorothy laughed as the remaining girls in the room returned to their conversations, Amelia moving towards the showers after she took off the top layers of her uniform. Pausing as she stood, Dorothy lowered her voice, a serious tone seeping in, “for what it’s worth—I do think you should call him. I read the reports of the day—he didn’t have a good one.”

---

Frank waited to move until Dorothy left to make her final rounds of the evening, a handful of girls already tucked into bed. The communal phone in the hallway was always available, and so Frank crossed the floor quietly, slipping the handset off before dialing the operator's number. It was easy to get in touch with the bases, the military operators familiar with names and locations. 

“How may I connect your call?” 

“Thorpe Abbotts—John Egan, please.” 

“Please hold.” 

Frank waited until the phone rang again, shoulder resting against the wall as she tried to figure out what she was going to say. Would John Egan be the same person she knew as Bucky? It would make sense that it was a nickname, but she didn’t know for sure, part of her panicking that it would be someone entirely different and that she was about to make a fool of herself. 

Eventually the phone on the other end of the call was picked up and an unknown male voice greeted her, asking her who she was trying to reach, and after Frank replied it was silent over the line for a handful of minutes more. She was just about ready to hang up, having almost completely talked herself out of it when the sound of someone fumbling with the receiver filled her ears, the voice she heard earlier in the day speaking, “this is Egan.” 

“Would you happen to go by Bucky as well?”

Silence fell between the phones and Frank glanced down the hallway as a very soft exhale of laughter filled her ear, “for the voice of an angel, I’ll go by whatever you want.”

“How about sweetheart?” 

More laughter echoed and she could almost picture the way his eyes crinkled earlier when she made him laugh, “now, now—that’s a bit too forward. I don’t even know who this is.”

“And here I thought you remembered me.” 

“Can’t remember someone if you don’t know their name.” 

Frank scoffed, Bucky’s gentle laughter filling her ears again, “It’s Stella, but I go by Frank, everyone calls me Frank.”  

“Frank,” her name sounded different from his lips, as if he were tasting each of the letters, “then Frank it is. I have to say, I’m a little surprised to hear from you...and a little concerned as to how you tracked me down...” 

Frank hummed, fingers gliding across the phone cord, “well—I was just informed I’d be the designated ferry for Thorpe Abbotts. So I thought I’d call and see what the fuck’s going on over there.” 

Bucky laughed at her brash language, “well—I’d just had a particularly shitty day and instead of drinking myself blind, I thought I’d try to get the funny pilot I spoke to earlier back soon to brighten my day. Didn’t realize they’d tell you that, though. Might not have done it if I’d known that…” 

“Oh,” Frank snorted, “oh no—they didn’t just tell me, I’m pretty sure the entire base knows by now.”

“Fuck,” his voice was thick as he drug out the vowel, groaning, “I’ve ruined it, haven’t I?” 

“Is there something to ruin?” 

Silence settled again and Frank bit down on her lip, anxiety crawling up her spine as she tried to figure out what was happening here. “Well…” Bucky seemed to be searching for the right words, “I guess that depends on if I’m gonna see you again, Frank.” 

“A request is an order,” Frank said, “so yes—you will.” 

“Mm,” Bucky seemed to be thinking, the sound of the phone adjusting in his hand, “you don’t sound happy about that.” 

“What’s done is done—I’m happy to keep flying the B-17s.” 

“So I’ve fucked it up, yeah?” 

“No,” Frank shook her head, voice lowering, “no—just…don’t fuck with my job again, alright? It’s taken me a long time to get here and I don’t like how this looks. Requests only come in when there’s an…actual romantic…thing going on.” 

“So…” Bucky shifted the phone from one ear to the other, “what you’re saying is that now I need to take you out?” 

Frank's jaw may have dropped a little, "no, that's not at all what I'm saying—” 

“Easy," Bucky chuckled, "if you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask."

Frank shook her head, and despite the absurdity of the conversation she smiled, “I’ll hang up on you.”

Bucky laughed, “I don’t doubt it. But I am sorry—that wasn’t my intention. Honest. I've just...been doin' a lot of thinking since comin' over here and I didn't hate our conversation earlier. Wouldn't hate havin' another one either."

"Things didn't go well earlier?"

"No," Bucky shook his head, although she couldn't see it, "and they never do. You get my plane landed safely?"

"Crash landed in a field outside of London."

A long silence filled the space and Frank had to cover the phone to keep her laughter from the other end.

"You better be fuckin' kidding me, Frank."

"She's safe and sound, tucked into her hanger for the night," Frank smiled, Bucky sighing on the other end only making her chuckle more, "but I missed my plane back to base and had to take a truck home, so you know...that's about as bad."

It was Bucky's turn to laugh and a comfortable silence drifted between the two phones, the two bases, the two pilots. "Listen," Bucky's voice dropped a little and she glanced down at her bare feet, "I gotta free up the phone—but...I'm happy you called. Even if it was to chew my ass out."

"Something tells me you deserved it for more than one reason."

"Oh, I’m sure I did," Bucky continued to smile, "goodnight, Frank."

"Goodnight, Bucky."

Notes:

I know I said once a week, but I couldn’t help myself! The responses I got were wonderful and I’m so happy so many of you enjoyed chapter one! I can’t wait to read how you liked chapter two! Thank you!

Chapter 3: III

III.

Frank was on the edge of breakfast service by the time she reached the officers’ mess the next morning. After hanging up with Bucky, she returned to her cot and tossed and turned for a few hours, mind wondering what the whispers would be about tomorrow and if they’d be about her. She fell off to sleep early in the morning hours, the girl in the bed beside hers snoring far too loud to be considered normal. Donna Blackwell was a short and stocky woman from northern England, who never seemed to give Frank anything but looks of disdain. They started around the same time, but no matter how many times Frank said “hello” or tried to make small talk, Donna’s only response was a grunt or a hum, and so Frank let her be and didn’t pay her any mind. Except when she snored like a B-17 starting up, then the brunette silently plotted her death. 

But, as luck would have it, no one even spared her a glance as she walked into the dining room, skirting around tables until she found Dorothy and Rose in one of the back corners. “Finally,” Dorothy moved aside the newspaper taking up one of the empty seats, “if you missed breakfast I was going to have you seen to. Dinner’s one thing…” 

“I’m not sure I ate anything yesterday,” Frank’s stomach clenched in hunger, the Captain reaching for one of the pieces of toast on Dorothy’s plate. “So I’d be begging for food if I was too late.” 

Dorothy waved over one of the servers in uniform, the man bringing by a cup of coffee, at which Frank thanked him softly. “And here I thought you went to your physical before this.” 

“Shit,” Frank’s chin dropped to her chest, Rose chuckling softly behind her own cup of coffee, “do I have to do that today?” 

“You’ve put it off for like…two weeks,” Dorothy rolled her eyes, “I can’t keep covering for you. If you don’t get it done today, you can’t fly tomorrow.”

“Where’s the flight tomorrow?” 

“London,” Dorothy said, “quick in and out, you shouldn’t be gone longer than a few hours.” 

Frank nodded, watching a few plates full of food pass their table that weren’t hers, “I’ll go after I finish here.” 

“Have fun,” Rose half sang, half smiled, “there’s an old biddy doing it this year and if you’ve gone to bed unwed she is very judgy the rest of the physical. I heard she asked Kathleen if she thought she had any reason to believe she had syphilis.”

Frank choked on her coffee, the hot liquid burning her throat as she gasped and coughed, Dorothy reaching over to whack her on the back. “Kathleen? Has Kathleen even seen a co—“

“Mixed company,” Dorothy warned, eyeing a few of the tables nearby that didn’t seem to find their conversation as amusing as they did.

“—member…” 

“Penis would’ve been fine,” Rose shrugged. 

“Johnson?” 

“Peter?”

“Willy?” 

“Pecker?”

“Manhood,” Frank snapped her fingers at Rose, “that’s what they say in all the dime novels.”

Dorothy exhaled long and slow as she rested her hand along her forehead, “you know—I think it would’ve been better if the Americans didn’t get involved in the war, actually. Then we could’ve skipped this entire conversation.” 

Frank and Rose shared an amused look as a server came by with a breakfast plate for Frank, the younger man’s cheeks were tinted pink and Frank was almost positive he had heard their discussion on names for the male genitalia. “Thank you.”

Frank inhaled another piece of toast before peppering her eggs, scooping some up with the side of her fork, “last year I don’t think they asked us if we were having premarital sex. I think it was just assumed that if we’re not married, we aren't.” 

“They’re looking for pregnancy,” Rose shook her head, “they want to know all about your menstrual cycle, dates, and if there’s even a remote chance you could be pregnant.”

Frank rolled her eyes, “I’m surprised they don’t do a full on test, since clearly they don’t believe us.” 

Dorothy snorted and Rose only shrugged, “one day—I guarantee that’s how it’ll be.”

“So…great!” Frank scraped some more eggs onto her fork, “can’t wait. Should be a great morning—I’ll get to find out how I’m a total cow just because I’m five to ten pounds over my recommended weight, I’ll be called a whore, and if I’m lucky, maybe they won’t immediately assume syphilis.” 

Rose sipped more of her coffee, “sounds like a standard Tuesday for you.”

Frank laughed as she dabbed her napkin along her lips, “bitch.” 

“Mixed company,” Dorothy warned them again, “let’s talk about something else, please?” 

“Are we going to the pub tonight?” Rose asked, eyes flickering between the girls, “I heard some of the newly arrived pilots will be making their first appearance.” 

“Bright eyed and baby faced?” Frank quirked an eyebrow. “That’s what gets you going?”

“Why? What’s Air Exec Major John Egan look like?” 

Frank sat back with a frown on her face and Rose only grinned in response, Dorothy exhaling once more, “I don’t get paid enough to supervise you two.” 

“You know,” Rose ran her fingers along the stem of her water glass, “if only there was a way you could tell who was called on our communal phone.” 

Dorothy glanced sideways at Frank and the brunette only rolled her eyes, “you’re being ridiculous.” 

“How’s he doing?” 

“Did you call him?” Dorothy asked, eyes searching the side of Frank’s face as she glared across the table at Rose, “you called him? Genuinely?”

“I need to get to medical,” Frank swiped the last piece of toast off of Rose’s plate, moving to stand as she drowned the rest of her coffee.

“You’re such an avoider,” Rose prodded, laughing as Frank moved around the table, “there’s nothing wrong with calling someone.” 

Frank only stuffed the toast into her mouth, hand waving back towards the table, “au revoir!”

“She really call him?” Dorothy asked once Frank left the building, turning to look at Rose curiously. 

“Mhmm,” Rose nodded, reaching across the table to Frank’s abandoned plate, reaching for the sausage her friend never ate, “I walked out of one of the recreational rooms and saw her on the phone. Goofy look on her face, it had to be him.” 

“Fascinating,” Dorothy shook her head, “I can’t wait to meet him.” 

“Who says you’re going to?” 

“I have my ways,” Dorothy reached for the handle of her coffee mug, “don’t you worry. Anyone who comes near her heart needs to be approved by me first.” 

Rose chuckled, “I cannot wait to see this. You gonna bring him here? Could you imagine her face if you did that?” 

“Oh no,” Dorothy shook her head, shivering slightly about the amount of anger that would radiate off Frank. It would be a million times worse than when Lee propositioned her last Fall. “no, no. She’d find out and have my head. I’ll have to go there.” 

Rose only hummed, “can you take me with you?” 

Dorothy only laughed. 

---

Frank could feel the fight living her body as she stepped into the medical building, weaving her way around chairs and gurneys until she reached the desk set up off to the side. She didn’t recognize the nurse behind the desk, but Rose’s comment about it being an old “biddy” certainly rang true. The physical exam was an overall joke—she did a few push ups and sit ups, had her weight and height taken, and was asked to balance on one leg, after which she sat in a chair and listed off any medical conditions she had. The nurse, who’s name Frank learned was Margaret, checked off various boxes and scribbled longer answers when needed. They went over a “healthy diet” and Frank chose not to tell the woman that she had four pieces of toast for breakfast this morning after supplying her stomach with nothing more than two cups of coffee and a cigarette the day before.

“Are you sexually active?”

Frank made a face, leaning back in her chair as she glanced around the large room. There were a few other nurses conducting physicals, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention. “Define…active…”

Margaret’s pencil stilled, hollow brown eyes shooting over the clipboard at her, “are you currently or have you ever engaged in sexual relations?”

“Yes…”

The silence spoke louder than any look or comment could have, Frank lifting her eyes upwards as the scratching sounds of the woman’s pencil filled her ears a moment later. “Well—as you know, abstinence is the biggest safeguard to prevent unwanted pregnancy and venereal diseases.”

Frank sighed, squeezing her eyes closed, “ok.”

“I’m required to give you a pamphlet,” Frank took the folded paper from the woman, eyeing the title "Guardian of Your Own Virtue" before turning it over on her lap. She’d seen the material for the boys and knew they were regularly supplied prophylactic, and the hypocrisy wasn’t lost upon her, the ever present “put it on before you put it in” condom posters popping up in her mind. “Is there any chance you may be pregnant today?”

“No.”

“When was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

Frank rattled off a date she was pretty sure was a few weeks ago—she wasn’t sure of the exact date, but she hadn’t had sex since January, so unless she was five months pregnant and still having almost regular periods, none of this was a concern. 

“Any reason to believe you might have contracted a venereal disease?”

“No.”

More scribbles and a few glances that Frank may have mouthed off too if she wasn’t on Dorothy’s last “get out of a lecture free” card for the month. She’d already gone toe to toe with a cadet a few weeks ago when he’d put his hand on her ass, and after the fiasco on the airfield, she didn’t have much wiggle room and needed to walk closer to the line until things settled a bit more. When the nurse finished the physical and stamped her form as approved, Frank scooped it off the desk and exited the medical building as quickly as possible. 

There were a handful of clouds in the Leicester sky as Frank crossed the walkways between buildings, making her way towards one of the larger administration buildings where Dorothy was commonly found. As a Commander, she had an official desk somewhere in the back where she went through paperwork, wrote letters, and read reports. Frank and Rose liked to joke that it was where Dorothy went to have a “timeout” from their American nonsense, and Dorothy only made the joke that much better by not denying it. 

“Captain.”

Frank nodded to one of the older women in the ATA, Edith Biven was one of the secretaries for Commodore Mantle and often floated her way around the administration buildings, picking up both gossip and reports as she went. Originally from Wales, Edith met and married a London man shortly before the first World War until his death in 1937. They never had any children, and Frank was dying to ask questions about it, but had refrained from doing so. Instead, she often dropped by with whatever sweets she stumbled across on her outings. She knew a handful of things about the older woman, and one of those was that she loved anything that had to do with chocolate. 

“How’s your morning, Edith?” Frank asked as she skirted around one of the mail carts. 

“Just peachy, darling,” Edith waved her off and Frank only chuckled to herself, “try to stay out of trouble, will you?”

“No promises.”

Frank found Dorothy’s desk a few moments later, her friend already hunched over a series of documents that had several lines of heavily redacted information. The Commander hadn’t heard her approach and Frank jumped at the chance to startle her friend and CO, slapping her physical paperwork down onto the desk just in front of her nose. 

“Damn it,” Dorothy shot her a dirty look, hand lifting to rest on her chest, “breathe or something next time. Don’t just sneak up on me.”

“Healthy as a whore.”

“Ok,” Dorothy scoffed, scooping Frank’s physical off her desk, “the correct phrase is horse. Healthy as a horse.”

“Well, I think Nurse Margaret might disagree with that…”

Dorothy couldn’t help but chuckle, filing Frank’s paperwork off to the side in a stack of other medical files, “was it terrible?”

Frank tugged out the tri-fold pamphlet Margaret had given her, unfolding it so she could read the first paragraph, “young ladies, you are the guardians of your own virtue, and it is imperative that you recognize the sanctity of your bodies and the precious gift of your fertility. In a world where the specter of illegitimate pregnancy looms large, abstinence is not merely a virtue but a shield, protecting you from the potential pitfalls of premarital relations.” Frank tossed the literature onto Dorothy’s desk, the blonde moving to pick it up, glancing down at the text, “did you get something like that?”

“No,” Dorothy laughed softly, shaking her head, “she must’ve thought you needed reminding. Oh God—but fear not, for there is strength in abstinence. By exercising self-discipline and restraint, you empower yourselves to defy the pressures of the modern world and uphold the timeless values of decency and morality. You assert your independence and autonomy, refusing to be swayed by fleeting desires or momentary pleasures.”

“Check out the last paragraph.”

Dorothy’s eyes dropped down and she couldn’t help but laugh softly, “in these challenging times, it is crucial for young women to understand the importance of preserving their chastity and purity. As we navigate the tumultuous waters of the 1940s, there are many temptations and dangers lurking around every corner, and it is our duty to guide our soldiers toward the path of righteousness and moral fortitude.”

“Now if that doesn’t get you hot and bothered, I don’t know what will,” Frank tugged one of the chairs over, flopping down onto it unceremoniously, gently tugging at her uniformed skirt before crossing her legs, “how’s it feel to be responsible for our soldiers too?”

“Two completely different people are creating the literature,” Dorothy mused, “the boys get condoms whenever they want and we get…this…”

“You deserve to be cherished and respected for the virtuous and honorable individual you are, Dot,” Frank waved the pamphlet in her face, reading from the back, “so don’t go whore yourself out to the men, alright? ‘Cause that’s gonna be your fault too.”

“Yes,” Dorothy shoved the pamphlet away from her face as Frank continued to wave it around, “so I’ve been made aware. What are you doing today? Other than bothering me?”

“I don’t know,” Frank leaned back, elbow resting on the arm rest, “I’m on standby for a trip to Leeds, but I haven’t heard if it’s going to get off or not. We’re waiting to see if the transport makes it from the carrier. When are we going to be able to fly to them, anyway?”

“Most likely never,” Dorothy shook her head, “that’s considered an active war zone and they don’t want us anywhere near it. We’ve already lost ten girls in the last year to accidents that should have been avoided. We don’t have enough numbers to send ferry pilots out to the carriers. The boys will have to fly them in and we’ll take over from there.”

“Pity,” Frank sighed.

“What—” Dorothy’s question was cut off as the phone on her desk rang, the blonde placing her pen down before reaching for it, tugging off her gold earring as she did, “Skylar.”

“Commander,” Frank mouthed, “Commander Skylar.”

Dorothy rolled her eyes, the blonde was never one for rank unless it became absolutely necessary, “yes—of course. I’ll be right there. Thank you.”

Frank watched Dorothy slip the phone back into the cradle before reattaching her earring, grabbing her heavy uniformed jacket, “I’ve got to run over to the Tower—apparently our flight logs are missing. Want to walk with me?”

“No,” Frank shook her head, moving to her feet as well, “if I walk to Tower, then Robert’s going to want to talk to me and I don’t think I have the patience to listen to him explain to me the purpose of an altimeter again.”

“As if you didn’t know,” Dorothy rolled her eyes, “alright—see you later. Let me know if you end up taking off for Leeds.” Frank saluted her and Dorothy pointed towards her desk, “and take that pamphlet with you. I don’t want it on my desk for everyone to see.”

“Don’t worry,” Frank scooped the literature up, “I’ll take the Scarlet Letter back with me. Pin it above my bed or something.”

“Oh—Rose would love that.”

Frank laughed as she walked with Dorothy to the entrance, the girls parting ways at the doors. Frank took a leisurely walk back towards the dormitories, not sure what to do with her time while she waited for word about her plane in Leeds. She’d just managed to cross over to the grassy area, dodging a few men riding bicycles on the path when she heard her name being called. A quick glance over her shoulder had her sighing unhappily, shoulders sagging as she watched Commander William Lee approach. An older man about fifteen years her senior, Commander Lee was one of the most well known men in the ATA. American, he was a fighter pilot who eventually worked his way up the ranks after getting injured early on in the war. He had been one of the men who worked on opening up the ATA so women could fly with the organization.

“I’m surprised to see you out here today,” Lee came to a stop in front of her, the graying hair at his temples giving away his age, despite his face looking younger. He was one of those men who would always be considered handsome, no matter their age. 

“Where else would I be, Commander?”

“I can think of a few places.”

Frank chose to ignore the words, jaw clenching as she glanced around the space surrounding them, “did you need something, Commander? Dorothy will return soon if you need any—”

Lee stepped closer, far too close for comfort until he was breathing almost directly onto the side of her face, “I saw your request this morning.” Frank’s stomach dropped and she tried to keep her heartbeat down, worried he’d be able to hear it at this distance, “you’re lucky I’m not your CO anymore or I’d have denied it. Whose dick are you sucking at Thorpe Abbotts to get that?”

Frank didn’t respond, eyes shifting to the side and it wasn’t until his hand lifted to grip her jaw that her eyes met his. They were dark brown and cold and Frank wanted to look around to see if there was anyone nearby, but she was afraid to look away, unsure of what might happen if she did. “I’m not—”

“That’s right,” Lee released her roughly, and Frank forced her hand to stay down at her side, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of touching her jaw, “because if I find out you are, you can kiss flying goodbye.”

Frank remained still until Lee walked around her, footsteps disappearing down the walkway behind her. She kept her eyes forward, staring blankly at the side of a building as memories from a year ago washed across her mind. She once thought Lee was one of the good guys—that he was there to help the women’s movement go further than it was. That he was an ally. She’d never been more mistaken before in her life. Flashes of Lee towering over her as he backed her up against a wall and unzipped his trousers took over her brain and Frank could feel the tears spring to her eyes, just as they had that rainy evening. She cleared her throat, glancing around sideways to see if anyone had spotted their interaction, but she found herself alone, tucked back along the trail to the dormitories. A glance over her shoulder told her Lee was moving back towards the administration building and Frank could feel bile bubbling up in her throat, a bad taste filling her mouth as she turned to walk towards the dormitories, hoping to find something or someone to take her mind off the rancid memories filling her brain. 

Frank’s trip to Leeds ended up being scrapped a few hours later. The boys hadn’t made it from the carrier in time and Dorothy didn’t want to send her on a trip that would have her returning to base during the late night hours. She’d fly tomorrow instead and as Dorothy watched Frank push around a few of the vegetables on her dinner plate, she originally assumed Frank’s sour mood was because of that. 

“You’ll fly to London tomorrow,” Dorothy sipped her water slowly, “promise.”

“I know,” Frank nodded, “it’s better that way—I’ll get a full day out rather than a half or something.”

“What’s with the long face, then?” Dorothy asked, “you’ve been moody since this afternoon. Were you excited for Leeds or…?”

Frank shook her head, eyes lifting off her plate to glance around the officers’ mess hall, eyeing the tables nearby and who was seated at them. “No…no, I—had a run in with Lee earlier. That’s all.”

Dorothy’s silverware clattered onto her plate, “he knows he’s not supposed to be around you. Where was it?”

“Outside on the walkway to the dorms.”

Dorothy sucked her teeth slightly, leaning back in her chair, “why didn’t you tell me sooner? When I could have addressed it? He knows he’s not supposed to be alone with you—let alone speaking to you.”

“Because I don’t want to deal with it,” Frank shook her head, “it’s not something I want to actively think about and I—I’m pissed off that I am right now. I just want to go to the pub in a bit, have a few drinks, and forget any of it ever happened.”

“Frank, he’s not allowed—”

“He’s allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants to do,” Frank hissed across the table to Dorothy, “he plays nice with you because he’s scared you’re going to tell his wife. But don’t ever think for one second that he’s staying away because he’s not allowed to come near me. He’s William fucking Lee, he can do whatever he wants.”

“Not while I’m here,” Dorothy shook her head, “I’m writing to his wife when we get back tonight. I’ve had it—he walks around here thinking he can do whatever he wants to whoever he wants. I’m going to write to Barb, and then I’m going to request a meeting with Mantle tomorrow—”

“Dot—”

“No,” Dorothy shook her head firmly, “now I’m upset and I haven’t even enjoyed my custard yet.”

“What are you going to tell Mantle?” Frank asked, “Lee asked one of my pilots to suck on his penis a year ago and when she refused he threatened to demote her? It was a year ago. He’s not my CO anymore. It’s fine.”

Dorothy exhaled roughly, hands lifting to shove her hair out of her face, “it’s most certainly not fine.”

Frank waved her off, reaching for her cup of tea before sipping the warm liquid slowly, “let’s just have a few drinks tonight and forget it.”

“That’s what he wants.”

“Then we can finally give him something he wants,” Frank leaned back, “do you still want your custard or not? Rose is already down there and I’ll be damned if I miss her trying to pick up one of the fresh faced cadets.”

---

The evening hours bled into the early morning easily and Frank found herself giggling as she walked back into the dormitory, her head buzzed and blood pumping. “What was his name? Edward something? Do we think he’s even nineteen yet?”

“He said he was,” Amelia walked a few paces ahead of Frank, the tall blonde holding her liquor much better than the brunette, “which is still almost five years younger than her…”

Frank laughed again, “good for her—hope he’s good.”

“Probably a virgin,” Dorothy shook her head, “he’s not going to know what hit him.”

The girls fell off into laughter again and Frank stumbled over her feet, Dorothy reaching out to grab her arm to help steady her, “c’mon—let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m ok,” Frank shrugged her off, moving towards the phone in the middle of the hall, “need to make a call.”

“No, no, no, no,” Dorothy moved with her, “you’re not going to make any drunk calls tonight.”

“It’s not a drunk call, Dot,” Frank waved her off, vaguely aware of Amelia laughing a few feet away, “it’s fine—I just need to say something and then I’ll be in. Go.”

Dorothy didn’t look at all convinced and Amelia only stepped forward, looping her arm through Dorothy’s, “c’mon—let her find out the hard way.”

Dorothy didn’t look convinced but begrudgingly left with Amelia and Frank waited until the hall was clear before she picked up the phone. She fumbled her way through calling operation and just as she pressed her forehead to the cool wall of the building did the phone on the other end finally pick up. 

“Egan.”

Frank almost forgot what she was doing here, blinking owlishly at the phone in her hand as the deep voice echoed throughout her skull. “Why do they call you Bucky?”

A few seconds of silence passed that seemed like hours to Frank’s intoxicated brain and she had to confirm with herself a few times that she actually said the words and didn’t just think them. “What?” There was soft laughter, “what kinda question is that at…almost one in the morning?”

“I don’t know,” Frank leaned heavily against the wall, “my brain’s fuzzy and that’s all I’ve been wondering.”

“Captain Frank, are you drunk?”

“Little bit,” Frank whispered back and she heard Bucky laugh, “I didn’t have a good day.”

“Yeah?” His voice softened as he quietly asked, “what happened?”

“The nurse was mean to me,” Frank sighed, “and Dorothy took my pudding because she said I ruined her custard.”

“Seems like a hell of a reason to get drunk, Captain.”

Frank only hummed and she found herself leaning further into the wall, her back slowly sliding down it until she was seated on the cold floor, “Lee talked to me today and I haven’t spoken to him in a long time. I didn’t want to talk to him.”

“Who’s Lee, sweetheart?”

“I thought you only called your boys that.”

Bucky laughed and Frank smiled at the sound, “I guess you’re just one of the guys now.”

Frank tilted her head back before sighing, “I wish I was a guy sometimes.” 

“I don’t wish that,” Bucky said, a smile falling across his lips, “flirting with you wouldn’t be nearly as fun if you were.”

“Is that what this is?”

“Maybe.”

Frank bowed her head, squeezing her eyes closed, “have you ever been asked to suck someone’s dick before?”

Bucky was quiet for a handful of seconds, “can’t say I have, Frank.”

Frank hummed, nodding, “that’s good—it’s not a fun conversation.”

“Don’t imagine it would be,” she could hear Bucky shifting, “is Lee a first name or a last name?”

“Last.”

“What’s his first?”

“William.”

Bucky asked, “and he works with you? There?”

“Mhmm,” Frank nodded, “he used to be my CO. Before Dorothy. She found out and had him removed, so she’s in charge of me now.”

“Sounds like an interesting job,” Bucky smiled, “you seem like a handful, Captain.”

“Probably am,” Frank wiggled her fingers in front of her face, “the tips of my fingers are numb.”

“It’ll come back in a few hours,” Bucky assured her, “are you back home?”

“Mhmm,” Frank glanced around the hallway, “I’m on the ground.”

“The ground, you say?”

“Sitting,” Frank nodded, “my bed’s just down the hall. Dorothy didn’t want me to call you.”

“You should always call me,” Bucky chuckled, “especially when you’re drunk.”

Frank laughed this time, “I don’t get drunk very often.”

“I’m happy to talk to you sober too.”

Frank traced random shapes on her thigh, “I don’t know when I’m flying back.”

“A few days, I think,” Bucky seemed to be shifting a few things around, “Thursday is what I have on my schedule. You’re bringing me a B-17 they fixed up a few months ago.”

“Will you be there?”

“Should be,” Bucky rested his elbows on the desk he sat at, glancing down at the stack of letters he was busy writing to families back home. An open bottle of liquor beside him, “why? Does that change your mind?”

“No.”

Bucky smiled into the phone, hand lifting to run across his forehead. His back ached from being bent over his desk for the last few hours, “I’ll pick you up in the truck—door to door service.”

“So fancy.”

“Well—we try around here.”

Frank chuckled again, a comfortable silence stretching on once more before she whispered, “I should go before I can’t get off the ground.”

“Sweet dreams, Frank.”

“Night.”

Chapter 4: IV

IV.

Dorothy nursed a cup of coffee the next morning, a dull ache in the back of her brain. It wasn’t long after sunrise that she found herself busy working out flight schedules, figuring out who was going where the second half of the week. She skipped breakfast, not at all trusting her stomach to hold anything down and instead decided to sit at her desk until both the nausea and headache passed. 

However, she hadn’t been expecting the phone to startle her so badly that she slammed her knee into the top of the desk. Cursing under her breath, she rubbed her knee with one hand while she reached for the phone with the other. “Commander Skylar.” 

“Commander Skylar,” the voice was male and sounded a bit like gravel this morning. American, that much was apparent and Dorothy briefly glanced at her calendar, wondering if she was supposed to have any calls today. “This is Major John Egan over here in East Anglia.” 

Dorothy felt her brain short circuit, and her eyes widened upon realizing who she was talking to. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Major Egan, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I had an interesting phone call last night,” it sounded like he was drinking something on the other end, phone receiver shifting from one hand to the other, “from one of your girls.”

Dorothy’s lips parted and briefly she was confused before she remembered Frank making a phone call, remembered trying to convince her not to, but that by the time she got back to her bed she was far too drunk to care and for obvious reasons Frank was face down on her cot this morning with her sheet pulled over her head. If Dorothy didn’t remember, she could guarantee Frank wouldn’t either. 

Her next sentence was a reaction, her sense of decorum dropping, “oh my God.” John Egan laughed, and Dorothy pressed her forehead to her hand, “I do apologize—“

“That’s not necessary,” the Major shook his head, “we’ve all had too much to drink from time to time.” 

“Regardless, I—“

“Honestly,” he interrupted again, “don’t worry about it. I’m actually calling about something she said last night. Something about William Lee…?” 

Dorothy glanced towards Commander Lee’s desk, which was thankfully vacant. Having been emptied out earlier this morning. “Yes…I—find it interesting she told you about him…” 

“Well, she wasn’t exactly sober, Commander,” John said, “but regardless, something she said has kept me up all night and I’d like to know a little more about it.” 

“With all due respect, Major, that’s her story to tell. I can’t provide any details, it would be against—“ 

“No,” he interrupted, “no—I don’t need those details. I just…want to make sure that you’ve handled it.” 

Dorothy bit her lip as her fingers tapped on the surface of her desk, “Commander Lee has relocated to a different base, effective this morning.” 

There was a brief stretch of silence before John Egan responded again, “that is good news to hear.” 

“Indeed,” Dorothy didn’t know what to say, her hungover brain moving slowly through the alcohol induced fog, and while part of her is extremely curious as to what John Egan might’ve done if she had answered in the negative, she wasn’t  interested in going into detail with him about the letters she wrote before going to the pub last night. “I would keep an eye out, Major. Your name has spread around here at a rapid rate of speed. And while Commander Lee’s relocation will seem like it was due to a promotion, those above know it wasn’t. I don’t know what your long term goals are, but…I would caution against becoming involved in this matter.” 

“I’m just trying to stay alive and keep my boys alive, Commander.” 

Dorothy felt a little bolder and she pressed just a little further, “is that all?” 

A low chuckle sounded and Dorothy was proud of herself for being so bold, “I wouldn’t mind being on a first name basis with your Captain.” 

Dorothy laughed a big laugh that she didn’t intend to escape her lips, hand lifting to rest against her mouth, “something tells me you’ll get there, Major. Late night phone calls should put you well ahead of schedule.”

It was Major Egan's turn to laugh, “she’s a little chatterbox, then?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Dorothy shook her head, “she’s a massive pain in my arse, but I love her more than anything. She’s my sister—my other half, and I won’t sit idly by if your intentions are less than honorable. She had enough trouble in her previous life, I won’t allow it to happen again in this one.”

“Understood, Commander.”

Dorothy nodded, short fingernails scraping against her desk as she tried to figure out what else to say. She had a much longer speech ready for him once this actually became a thing, but since he’s sought her out, she couldn’t help but lay into him a little bit, even with a headache. “Good. I’m glad we understand each other, Major.”

Major Egan only hummed in response, and she imagined him leaning back in his chair when he casually asked, “does she like to dance, Commander?”

Dorothy laughed again, shaking her head as she lifted her eyes upward, only imagining what kind of loop this man was about to throw her best friend into. “Yes,” Dorothy eventually said, “but like most things in life—she’s going to deny it a few times before she gives in.”

“I look forward to it.”

---

“Thorpe Abbotts Tower, this is B-17 Flying Fortress, Alpha Tango Alpha One-Five, approaching from the east at about 3,000 feet. Requesting permission to land, over.”

Frank waited for the staticy response over the radio, eyes flickering out the windshield of the plane. It was foggier today than it had been the last time she landed in East Anglia, and she couldn’t see anything other than gray. “B-17 Flying Fortress, Thorpe Abbotts Tower, roger. You’re cleared to land on Runway seven. Wind is two-hundred forty degrees at fifteen knots. Altimeter setting 29.92. Report on final approach, over.”

Frank nodded, fingers moving to follow the instructions before she radioed back, “Flying Fortress to Tower, Runway seven—altimeter set. Will report on final. Over.”

It wasn’t long at all before Frank came in for her final approach. The fog was still incredibly thick, but she managed to line up correctly, exhaling slowly as she mentally prepared herself for a landing. Her fingers tightened and she gave herself a handful of moments more to get any pre-landing jitters out before she connected back to the Tower, “Tower, Flying Fortress. On final for Runway seven.”

There’s a bit more static before an unknown voice replied back, “cleared to land, over.”

Frank did just that and it’s only a few moments until she heard the familiar clunk of the landing gear as it touched down, the whooshing of the air moving past her as the plane immediately dropped to a slower speed, her propellers slowing as she continued down the long stretch of runway. It’s still foggy, but she was able to make out a few buildings surrounding the airstrip, the tall tower peeking out through the fog. She didn’t see any of the ground crew until they were coming out of nowhere, escorting her in as she taxied into her correct space. 

“Flying Fortress is clear of the runway,” Frank informed the Tower once the plane was out of the way, hands moving as she continued to bring the plane down from its own adrenaline rush, engines cooling into submission.

“Welcome back—Tower, out.”

Frank’s helmet slipped off not long after and she unbuckled herself before going through the motions of grabbing her bag and walking through the belly of the plane. it wasn’t as new as the one she flew in earlier in the week, but she’d definitely been fixed up. Patched holes only visible if one knew what to look for. 

Frank’s fingers skimmed the side, gently stroking the plane before she reached for the hatch and slid out. The bag landed onto the tarmac with a thud before her boots did, and she pushed herself back into a standing position. A few trucks had already approached and she recognized some of the ground crew members from last time. Winks, she’s pretty sure that was his name, waved to her and she smiled back in return, another guy nudging his shoulder in jest. Frank was used to it—the ribbing the guys gave one another when the girls flew in was always there, as was the occasional bet to see who could take them to bed first. 

She lifted her eyes up to the plane, checking over one of the wings as her ears attempted to return to normal, popping as she worked her jaw expertly, when a final jeep approached from the left. He was without glasses today, but his sheepskin jacket sat firmly across his torso as he greeted her with a wide grin, drawing out the first vowel in the word morning, “good morning, Captain.”

“Major,” Frank reached for her bag, “I don’t think I’ll be here long today—I’m catching a lift.”

“That so?” He asked, chewing gum as he looked her over from his place in the jeep, watching as she approached. His wrist dangled from the wheel and his eyes followed her around to the passenger’s side, “where you off to?”

“Bodney,” Frank settled into the truck before Bucky maneuvered it around the aircraft and back into the wall of fog, “they’ve got a Ventura for me to take to London and then it’s a train back to Leicester.”

“Dorothy’s keepin’ you hot today, huh?”

Frank’s entire brain malfunctioned and she was only able to glance over at him, a knowing smirk settled across his face as he continued to look forward, “I’m sorry?”

“Your CO,” Bucky said, “Dorothy Sky—”

“I know who my CO is,” Frank only frowned, “how do you?”

“You told me.”

Frank was quiet for several long moments, and the way Bucky’s smirk grew into a smile did nothing for her confusion, “I did?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky slowed the truck down as he approached what was probably a building, though she only saw a gray blob in the surrounding fog, “you called me the day before yesterday—or well, I guess it was technically yesterday. It was after midnight.”

“I—” Frank shook her head, hand paused on the door, “I did what?”

Bucky looked at her fully and Frank stared at his amused face, his dark blue eyes taking in her crystal clear ones, “the fact that you don’t remember, only makes this so much better.”

“What else did I say?” Frank scrambled out of the jeep after him as Bucky unfolded himself from the front seat, stretching his lean frame as he waited for her to join him around front, “you’re not serious—there’s no way I called you.”

“No way, huh?” Bucky leaned against the front of the truck, watching as she stood in front of him, “how much you wanna bet?”

“I—no, I wouldn’t call you. I’ve met you once. I don’t know you—”

“You sure about that?” Bucky quirked an eyebrow and if she hadn’t been so flabbergasted she may have thought it cute, “how much?”

“I don’t want to bet anything!”

“‘Cause you’re afraid you did?” Bucky eyed her slowly for the first time since they met and Frank watched as he observed her from head to toe and back, “or because you don’t know what you said?”

Frank's immediate answer was both, but she didn’t want to give Bucky the satisfaction and instead only stared back at him mutely. She searched his face, looking for any indication of a lie but he looked back at her with a passive, albeit amused expression. “I did not call. Her name is on my paperwork.” 

“If you say so,” Bucky only shrugged and Frank frowned back at him, “we could make it interesting.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Well…” Bucky tilted his head back and forth, pausing for dramatic effect, “if I’m right, and you did call, I want you to come with me to the officers’ party next week.” 

Frank made a face, “why?” 

“Why what? Why there’s a gathering or why do I want you as my date?” 

Frank struggled lightly, “both?” 

“We’re celebrating one of our pilot’s promotion. There’s not a lot to celebrate around here, so we gotta take what we can get,” he leaned back, hands resting on the hood of the car, “and as for the other why…I like talking to you. Wanna talk to you longer.” 

Frank thought over his request before she asked, “what do I get if I'm right?” 

Bucky seemed intrigued with her response, the corner of his lip lifting, “what do you want?” 

Frank didn’t really have anything in mind when she asked her question, so she only shrugged, blurting out the first thing that came to mind, thinking of the pair of nylon stockings she saw in a shop window in London the last time she was there, “three dollars?”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head, “sure—I’ll give you three dollars.” 

Frank chewed on her lower lip, frowning back at him, “and I want to know where Bucky comes from.” 

Bucky held his hand out and Frank reached forward after a moment of hesitation, not at all liking the look on Bucky’s face when she took his hand, the two shaking before Bucky folded his arms across his chest and said, “you had a bad day—said a nurse was mean to you and Dorothy stole your pudding.”

Frank’s jaw dropped, disbelief washing over her as she stared back at him in confusion. “No,” she shook her head, ignoring the growing smile on Bucky’s face, the ATA pilot very much wanting to shove the gum he chewed further down his throat, “why would they let me call you?” 

“I don’t know,” Bucky laughed, “but I hope you’ve got some dancin’ shoes, Captain.” 

Frank wasn’t sure which emotion to feel next, but embarrassment, disbelief, and irritation were definitely among the leading ones. She shook her head again and Bucky only smiled back at her, his tongue poking into his cheek, “I’ll have to see how much leave I have.” 

Bucky’s eyes twinkled knowingly, nodding before he said, “something tells me you’ve got a whole bunch saved up.” 

“When is it?” 

“Tuesday night.” 

“If I’m flying, I can’t go,” Frank was quick with the reply, “by the time I land and—”

“Well,” Bucky lifted his shoulder and Frank watched him try to hide his amused smirk into it, but she clocked it anyway, eyes narrowing back at him, very aware that he knew something she did not. “You’ll already be flying here, so…” 

Frank allowed herself a deep breath, frowning as she folded her arms across herself, the move only seeming to interest Bucky more, “did you call her? You worked this whole thing out, the two of you, didn’t you?” 

Bucky’s head tilted back as a rumble of laughter escaped his throat and he shook his head no, hands held up in the mercy position, “she has no idea I’m asking you to this dance. You were already scheduled, I didn’t pull any strings.” 

“If I find out that you so much as touched a string to get me here the same day…” 

“A bet’s a bet, Captain,” Bucky only continued to smile, “or are you not one to stick to your word?” 

“I’ll stick something somewhere, alright,” Frank warned him as she moved towards the jeep, grabbing onto her bag and hauling it out of the back, “I’m watching you.”

Her threat wasn’t taken as intended and Bucky only wiggled his eyebrows back at her, “yeah? I kinda like the sound of that.” 

Frank rolled her eyes as she moved around him, and Bucky only pivoted his body to watch her walk towards the gray building, “uniform’s not required,” he called to her, “although something tells me we’ll talk before then.” 

Frank shot him a glare as she pulled open the door, pausing as she said, “I’m going to find out where Bucky comes from.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt it, Captain!” 

---

Frank didn’t get much time to regroup before the passenger truck was pulling up in front of one of the buildings, the driver idling as he waited to take her and a handful of other ATA members to Bodney. She had just slipped her jacket over her shoulders, reaching for her bag when she heard her name being called, eyes turning to see Bucky moving down the Tower’s steps, sheepskin jacket still firmly on. “Is there another bet you’d like to make, Major?”

Bucky shook his head as he approached, eyeing her carefully, “no—no, I’ve got something for you.”

Frank watched him pull out a few paper notes from his pocket, holding it out to her, “our bet wasn’t completely fair—you were drunk.”

She eyed the money in his hand, glancing up at him curiously, “what do I do with that?”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, “you’re the most interesting woman I know, you know that? Do whatever you were gonna do with it before.”

“I only take money I’ve earned,” Frank shook her head, taking a step back towards the waiting truck, “so you can keep that.”

Bucky only shook his head at her, eyes shining with amusement as he watched her walk another step backwards, “I look forward to Tuesday, Captain.”

“We’ll see about that,” Frank placed her bag into the back hatch of the truck, hands sliding into the pockets of her jacket as she approached the back passenger door, “better have some steel in those boots, Major.”

“Something tells me I won’t need it,” Bucky’s smile remained on his face as she tugged open the door, head turning to him, but instead of saying anything further she only winked before disappearing inside the vehicle. 

The ride to Bodney took longer than Frank would’ve liked, her thoughts drifting towards a certain tall, dark haired Major and she couldn’t figure out if she wanted to listen to him talk all night or shave his mustache off his face when he was asleep. And as much as she hoped, even when she got into the air a few hours later, her thoughts didn’t stray from her latest interaction with Bucky, thinking of the way his eyes lit up when she argued with him. The way his dumb smile sat easily on his face. Even on the train, which she was normally able to doze on, proved to be filled with thoughts of him and his eyes. So, needless to say, by the time Frank made it back to RAF Ratcliffe, she was in a shitty mood. 

Dorothy was her first stop, Frank finding her friend and commanding officer in the shared washroom, leaning over the sink as she swiped her newest red lipstick across her already painted lips. “You’re back!” Dorothy pursed her lips together before turning around to lean against the sink, eyeing Frank as she stepped into the washroom, still fully dressed in her flight suit. “How was the trip? You had a bit of everything today, planes, trains, and automobiles, didn’t you? If you hurry, you can still join us down at the pub, Betty just got engaged—”

“What the fuck is going on?” Frank crossed her arms over her chest, a heavy frown on her face as she stared back at Dorothy’s confused one, “I know you know.”

Dorothy slowly recapped her lipstick, painted fingernails running along the gold tubing, the same one she saved up to purchase last week. Dorothy loved the color red, loved the color on her own lips, and while she didn’t bother with the nylons like Frank loved or even the latest dresses like Rose, she would never, ever, be caught without red lipstick. “What do I know?”

“I called him drunk, and no one said anything? Not even a ‘hey Frank—pretty sure you slurred your deep dark secrets to some random guy you met a few days ago?’ Seriously? Is there a—a bet or something? Because I’d rather you tell me now so I can get some money out of it before it crashes and burns.”

“There’s no bet,” Dorothy shook her head, fighting off the smile that wanted to appear, “I promise—nothing nefarious is going on. I had forgotten you called him, we were all fairly gone the night before last.”

Frank looked away and she could feel tears stinging the back of her eyes, the brunette worrying her lip between her teeth as she tried to keep calm, tried to keep from crying. She hated that she cried when she was angry—hated that she couldn’t keep the tears away. No matter how hard she tried, she’d always been this way and it scared her to think it would continue to be this way for the rest of her life. 

There was no crying in war. No crying in the ATA. No crying in the air. And yet, here she was. Crying. 

“Stell,” Dorothy took a few steps towards her friend, but Frank only shook her head, blinking the tears away, hand lifting to wipe off the traitor that slipped from her waterline, “love—no. No, no, no. Please don’t cry. No one is betting on anything, no one is setting you up to look like a fool. Please, darling—nothing is going on.”

“Then why does it feel like there is?” Frank sniffled before begrudgingly accepting the handkerchief Dorothy held out for her, “how does he know you? What is going on?”

“He called me yesterday,” Dorothy rested her hand on Frank’s elbow, letting the older girl inhale a ragged breath, “I promise—it was harmless. He just wanted to know a bit about you, make sure you were ok after he spoke with you the night before. I didn’t tell him anything that he couldn’t figure out with a little digging through your files. I promise. We were on the phone for maybe two minutes total. Honest.”

Frank dabbed at her eyes, feeling ridiculous as she stood in the middle of the common washroom with Dorothy. “I’m tired.”

“I know,” Dorothy squeezed her elbow, “you’ve had a long day and not everyone has an attractive Major trying to learn more about them.”

“Shut up,” Frank rolled her eyes, “you don’t know what he looks like.”

“Don’t I?” Dorothy wiggled her eyebrows, “I have my ways.”

“Don’t hide it from me again,” Frank asked her softly, voice lowering, “please—if you talk to him, it’s fine. Just…don’t send me in there blind. I lost three dollars today.”

“He took your money?”

“No,” Frank shook her head, “no, I just didn’t win his.”

“Oh,” Dorothy’s shoulders relaxed, “ok. If you said he actually took your money I was going to take a plane myself to Thorpe Abbotts. Last time I checked, that’s not the way to get into a girl’s knickers.”

“Well, you’d know,” Frank moved to the sink as Dorothy laughed, shaking her head as Frank went about changing, removing her jacket and disappearing out into the dormitory before she returned with her housecoat. 

“In all seriousness,” Dorothy called as Frank turned on the shower, “I do think he likes you.”

“I know he does,” Frank didn’t bother looking over her shoulder as she waited for the water to change from ice cold to lukewarm. 

“Do you like him?”

Frank’s only response was hanging her housecoat onto the hook outside the shower, the curtain falling into place a moment later. Dorothy only shook her head, a smile falling across her lips as she turned her attention back to the mirror, wondering how long it would take her Captain to realize she liked Major John Egan as much as he liked her.

Notes:

I can’t wait to read what you think! Your comments have been so wonderful, and I’m so appreciative and excited to get your reactions as we go through the story! :)

Chapter 5: V

V.

“Frank!”

The brunette lifted her head from where she’d been bent over one of her newest paperbacks to see one of the newer pilots leaning against the doorway of the dormitory expectantly. Just barely over eighteen with a thick accent, she waited for Frank to respond. “What?” 

“Phone.” The woman nodded down the hall towards the communal phone, a light blush covering her cheeks, “he sounds handsome.” 

“Is that even possible?” Frank slipped off her bed, book abandoned across her bedspread before she followed the girl back through the door and down the hall towards the black phone that hung on the wall.  

“Yes,” the woman wiggled her eyebrows, “it is. Have a good night, Frankie.” 

Frank grunted unhappily at the nickname, never having liked it even when she was a kid. The boys used to tease her in school, laughing as they called out the nickname while they pulled on her braided curls as they ran around in the school yard. Her mother had always told her that was “just what boys do when they like you,” and while Frank may have accepted that logic then, she definitely didn’t now. Just like she still hated that nickname.

The pilot waited until the hallway was clear to pick up the receiver, sliding it along the shell of her ear as she leaned a shoulder against the wall. A quick glance at her wrist told her it was just after eight. She hadn’t flown today due to weather, and there weren’t very many ferries to go around on Friday, something about there being less men on the airfields in the afternoons. “Hello?” 

“There she is,” Bucky’s voice was low and sounded like gravel, the exhale he let out right after making her stomach flip, “how’s your evening, Captain?” 

“Dull,” Frank leaned against the wall, fingers lightly tracing the telephone cord that kept the receiver tethered to the main box. This early in the evening on a Friday was typically the ideal time to have fun in the pubs, and the fact that Bucky wasn’t there and calling her instantly raised her curiosity. “My quick hop to London was scrapped due to weather. Too much fog along the river, I guess they already had one crash landing this afternoon and didn’t want to risk anymore.” 

Bucky hummed knowingly, “I worry about you.” 

“Me?” Frank scoffed, “trust me, there’s nothing to worry about. The speeds I’m allowed to fly at are insulting, I’m not allowed any fun and if I so much as even think about getting creative in the air, my ass would be chained to a desk or on a boat home before you could even say dangerous.” 

“That’d be a shame,” she could tell Bucky was grinning, could hear it in his voice, “I like to watch it walk away from me when you think I’m not looking.”

“Major,” Frank couldn’t help the surprised chuckle that escaped her lips, “my, my—you do that to all the ATA pilots?”

“Just the ones who wink at me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I get the urge to fly upside down,” she snuck a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was lurking at the other end of the hall. The last thing she needed was Dorothy and the girls to get wind of another phone call.

“Better not,” Bucky laughed, “or at least I better be there to witness your last flight.” 

“I’ll make sure you’ve got a front row seat on the tarmac.” 

Bucky’s laughter fell off, silence falling between them and Frank tilted her head, unsure what she should do now. Clearing her throat, she asked softly, “what’s going on? Normally I’m the one who calls you. Shouldn’t you be off at the pub by now?” 

The heavy sigh he heaved had her worried, Frank biting down gently on her lip. Bucky, up until now, was usually care-free and light. He always had a smile on his face, and was always teasing, always flirting. The closest she had experienced to something that wasn’t excitement and happiness was the afternoon they met, when the planes came back to their station and a few were missing. “We uh…” Bucky cleared his throat, “lost another thirty guys today.” 

Shit. Frank stared down at her feet for a handful of seconds, trying to gather her thoughts, her heart squeezing just a little, “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s over one-hundred, now,” Bucky continued, his voice thickening, “since I’ve been here. Almost two weeks have gone by and I’ve sent one hundred guys to their graves. I’ve signed one hundred letters.” 

“Everyone knows what they’re signing up for,” Frank offered gently, “they know what war means.” 

Bucky was quiet as he took a turn to collect his thoughts, “it’s different up there.” He whispered, “it’s—terrible in every way. When we signed up for war, we all assumed we had a fighting chance. There’s no chance up there.” 

Frank wished she could see him, she always felt better when she could read body language and see the emotions across faces. “I’m sorry,” Frank said softly, “I’m so sorry.” 

“My guys get here in about a week,” Bucky’s voice was rough, the volume dropping lower, “and they have no idea the shit show they’re about to walk into.” 

“Is there anyway to—” 

“No,” Bucky interrupted her quietly with a shake of his head, “no—I’ve run every scenario in my head and there’s no way to change it, fix it, hell, no way to stop it. I can’t warn them, I don’t even know what to say…I can’t even explain it accurately to you, let alone them.” 

“Give yourself some credit,” Frank shifted her footing, the arm that wasn’t holding the phone sliding across her waist, “you’re explaining it just fine to me.” 

“That's the thing though,” Bucky’s laugh was hollow, “it’s easy with you. You get it and I’m not sending you to your death. They wouldn’t. There would be a million suggestions and I’ve spent hours thinking of them all. We can’t stop it. The only way out is through it.”

Frank hummed softly, unsure of what to say, unsure of what he was looking for. “When do they come in?”

There was some shifting on Bucky’s end of the phone, followed by a soft sigh as he flipped through a bit of paperwork, “they’re flyin’ in next Friday from Greenland. Still missing half my equipment too, I’ll have to get with the RAF tomorrow about more parachutes…fuck I hate this.”

Frank couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “the paperwork or the war?”

“Both,” Bucky rubbed the bridge of his nose, hunched over his desk, “this isn’t what I signed up for. I didn’t sign up to fly a desk.”

“Every job is important,” Frank adjusted her positioning against the wall, “or at least that’s what they told us when we tried to join the AAF.”

Bucky laughed this time, shaking his head, “yeah, well—I’d rather be up in the sky with my boys.”

“Yeah, me too,” Frank glanced over, head turning as she watched a few women step out of the shared dormitory, making their way down the hall towards the exterior door, “but at least I’m here and doing something. Beats sitting at home.”

Bucky seemed to consider her words, “what’d you do before this? Have you always flown?”

“You’ll have to get me drunk if you want to know about what I did before this,” Frank was mostly joking, although there was a ring of truth in her words. 

“I look forward to it,” Bucky tapped his pen along the desk, thoughts drifting to spending more time with her and their upcoming date. “Maybe we can have a couple drinks after the party…”

“Don’t they serve drinks during?” Frank frowned, “or is this party going to be the dull kind?”

“No—no, they definitely do,” Bucky bit his lip, eyes still trained downward at his desk, “I just uh…wanna have one with you without other people hangin’ around.”

“I see.”

Bucky shook his head, unsure why it suddenly felt like his cheeks were warming, brain trying to figure out what he could say in these moments when she ignored his curveballs, “what are you wearing?”

Frank glanced down at her outfit, “pair of trousers—white blouse…”

“Not right now,” Bucky laughed, leaning back in his chair, hand lifting to drag down the front of his face, “on Tuesday.”

“I haven’t decided,” Frank moved the phone from one ear to the other, “what are you wearing?”

“I’ll be in my uniform,” Bucky said, the corner of his lip lifting, “that’s about all I got.”

“But I thought they weren’t required…?”

“Not for you,” Bucky shook his head, “but they are for me.”

“I have a few options,” Frank thought over the two dresses she thought might be the most appropriate for a party, “we’ll see which speaks to me the morning of.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Bucky absentmindedly drew a few circles along the edge of his paper, “I like talkin’ to you.”

Frank blushed and despite not being near a mirror she knew her face was red. Looking down at her shoes, she couldn’t help but smile softly, “that’s good…it’s normally the opposite—I think Dorothy gets tired of listening to me go on and on.”

Bucky laughed, “nah, I don’t think so. I think she likes talking to you too.”

“She’s alright.” Frank nudged the side of her shoe against the wall, “I don’t mind talking to you either, Major.”

“You’re gonna make me blush now.”

Frank laughed, “tell me about your boys.”

“Bunch of Dodos,” Bucky grunted, sitting back upright in his chair, elbows resting on the desk, “been holdin’ down the forts here while they’ve been slacking off stateside, taking their sweet time.”

Frank only smiled, “you got a Dorothy?”

“I am Dorothy,” Bucky laughed and Frank joined in softly, “no—I got a buddy. Known him since basic training, decided we were gonna be friends long before he even realized it.”

“That’s sweet,” Frank smiled, “what’s his name?”

“Buck.”

Frank tilted her head, eyebrow lifting, “his name is Buck?”

“No, his real name’s Gale. I just call him Buck.”

Frank shook her head in confusion, “but you’re Bucky. Why would you call him Buck?”

“‘Cause that’s his name,” Bucky laughed again, “reminded me of someone I knew from home and his name was Buck. So I decided to call him Buck too.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Frank couldn’t help but laugh, “I don’t believe that for a second. This was a prank, wasn’t it?”

“No,” Bucky grinned, “no—no, I knew a kid in school. He was Buck and I was Bucky and I swear he looked just like ‘im.”

“Mhmm,” Frank wasn’t convinced and Bucky only laughed again, “and he was ok with you calling him Buck?”

“Oh, no,” Bucky shook his head, “definitely not. But after a while it stuck—other guys in the 8th started calling him that too and eventually he accepted his fate as Buck.”

“And your friend,” Frank shook her head, imagining the smile across Bucky’s face, “that’s cute.”

“I think you’re cute too.”

“Your story is cute,” Frank let out a huff that Bucky only chuckled at, “not you.”

“You don’t think I’m cute?” Bucky glanced around the empty room, confirming he was the only one still there, “not even a little bit?”

“You’re impossible.”

“You gotta give me something here, Captain,” Bucky tilted his head back, “I can’t figure out if you like me or if you hate me.”

Frank smiled softly, fingers fiddling with the cord, “rest assured, Major. I don’t hate you.”

“So you like me, then?”

“Tell me more about Gale.”

Bucky grunted, “not much to tell. Name’s Buck, got a frog face and two left feet…”

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Frank rolled her eyes, “I meant what is he like, not what does he look like.”

“Had me worried for a minute,” Bucky said, “thought maybe you were weighing your options or something.”

“I don’t just care about a pretty face, Major.”

“Are you calling me pretty?”

“I’m going to hang up,” Frank laughed, Bucky joining in a moment later, “good night.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bucky’s laughter died down, “I’m not done talking to you.”

“Then you better behave,” Frank lifted her eyes as the door at the end of the hall opened, Rose stepping in a moment later, shaking out her damp hair. 

“It just started pouring down rain out there!” Rose pointed back towards the door, pausing once she realized Frank wasn’t just standing there and was on the phone, “who are you talking to?”

“No one.”

“So I’m ugly and no one now…?” Bucky pressed his hand to his chest playfully, “I’m wounded, Captain. Couldn't you let a fella down easily?”

Frank rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Rose as she stepped closer, eyes widening as she whispered, “is that your Air Exec?”

However, her whisper was really more of a quiet roar, one Bucky most certainly picked up on, “your Air Exec? Maybe I do stand a chance…”

Frank squeezed her eyes closed, “I’m almost done.”

“We are?”

Rose reached for the phone but Frank dodged her hand, and Bucky only shook his head at the sound of a scuffle on the other line. However in Frank’s mad haste to dodge Rose’s hand, she left her side open, Rose digging her fingers into it as Frank squealed, Rose managing to snatch the phone out of her hand. “Is this the Air Exec?”

“Maybe,” Bucky twirled the pen between his fingers, “who’s this and where’d my Captain go?”

“Rose,” Rose responded with no introductions, “and it’s not fair that you’ve already spoken to Dorothy but not me. I’m hurt.”

“Well, I can assure you it wasn’t intentional, Rose.”

“Are you going to ask her out?”

“Rose!” Frank’s jaw dropped, lunging for the phone, “give it back now.”

Bucky laughed on the other end of the phone, “I kinda already have, Rose.”

Silence fell and Rose’s eyes darted over to Frank’s, eyebrows raised almost to her hairline, “he’s asked you out?”

“Yes,” Bucky confirmed almost immediately. 

Frank exhaled before nodding silently and Rose only continued to stare at her dumbfounded, “what did you say?”

“She said yes,” Bucky continued.

“He said you said yes,” Rose looked back to Frank for confirmation, “did you say yes?”

Frank sighed unhappily through her nose, “yes, Rose.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!” Rose didn’t even bother moving the phone away from her mouth, voice echoing so loud over the phone Bucky had to pull it away from his ear, “when? Where are you going? Is he coming here? Are you coming here?”

“No,” both Frank and Bucky chorused.

Frank held her hand out for the phone but Rose only turned her back to Frank, cradling the phone against her ear as she spoke to Bucky, “when are you taking her out? Where are you going?”

“Uh,” Bucky grinned playfully, “did you uh—get rid of Frank or…?”

“No, she’s right here,” Rose glanced over her shoulder, “I hope you never see this look that I’m getting though…”

“Rose.”

“Tuesday,” Bucky eventually answered, “she’s my date to a party.”

“Oh my God,” Rose rested her back against the wall, eyes shifting to Frank, “what are you wearing? Are you wearing the red dress from—”

“No,” Frank wiggled her fingers again, “give me the fucking phone.”

Rose sighed unhappily, rolling her eyes, “Frank’s being mean. You’ll learn soon enough that she often gets in these moods.  Normally I force feed her coffee until she stops swearing at me, but I’m sure you’ll think of something else to distract her wit— ow!”

Frank shoved Rose further down the hall, now holding the phone back to her ear as her friend only grinned widely at her, “ignore her. Always ignore her.”

“I kind of liked talking to her,” Bucky chuckled, “what other tips does she have?”

“None.” Frank waved her friend off as Rose made kissy faces at her, which only resulted in the brunette rolling her eyes and asking, “how old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“No,” Frank snorted, shaking her head, “no—I was asking Rose because she was…never mind. You’re twenty-six?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky nodded, “am I allowed to ask you how old you are…?”

“Twenty-four,” Frank nodded, “I’m almost twenty-five.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“Soon,” Frank said. 

“I’m gonna get it out of you, so you may as well tell me now,” Bucky smiled, “otherwise I’ll call Rose.”

“If you have any desire to see me again, you will under no circumstances call Rose,” Frank warned.

“Call Rose!” Rose shouted from a handful of feet away, “always call Rose! I’ll give you all the dirty details that Dorothy won’t!”

“You will not!” Frank tried to cover the mouthpiece but based on the way Bucky was all but cackling, she wasn’t successful, “go away, you cow. Find a towel or something. You’re tracking water all over the floor.”

“Maybe I’ll just go dry off in your bed!”

“She’s such a pain in my ass,” Frank sighed, ignoring Rose and the hand gestures she was giving her as she walked into the open doorway into the dormitory, “I’m sorry.”

“I cannot tell you how much I just enjoyed all of that.”

Frank leaned against the wall, facing the direction Rose went just in case her friend wanted to eavesdrop, “well, I’m glad one of us did.”

“Friends,” Bucky said once the laughter subsided, “what would we do without them?”

“Is your mini-me this much of a handful?”

Bucky barked out a laugh, “Mini-me? Oh, he’s gonna love that when I tell him.”

“You named him after yourself,” Frank grinned, “you can’t convince me otherwise.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.” Bucky tapped his desk with his pen, smile slowly fading as he thought of his friend and the mess he would be flying into soon, “I think he’d probably say I’m the handful.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Are you flirting with me, Captain?”

“I don’t know,” Frank wasn’t sure what pushed her into leaning back into her conversation with Bucky, but she only found herself responding a little bolder, “what are you wearing?”

Bucky laughed, “nothing at all, doll—nothing at all.”

“You flyboys are so strange.”

Bucky’s laugh grew before it died off, the dark-haired pilot only shaking his head, a massive grin across his face, “if I die tomorrow, Frank—I’m going to be so angry that I never got to dance with you.”

Frank could feel the laughter settle alongside the playful tone most of their conversation had and she felt her own smile fall, “what do you mean?”

“I’m going up tomorrow,” Bucky sighed heavily, pressing the palm of his hand into his face, rubbing along his right eye, “my second observation mission with the 389th.”

“Is the entire mission an observation mission or are you just observing an…actual run?”

“I’m just observing,” Bucky’s thumb toyed with the metal clasp of his pen, heart squeezing uncomfortably, “but it’s very real.”

Frank couldn’t describe the emotions that hit her as a brief silence fell across the phone, she knew what these missions were like based on the stories she heard from the RAF boys and the men down at the pubs, and Bucky going up had her feeling more nervous than she would ever care to admit. She didn’t have anything immediate to say, and she knew any reassurance that he would be fine was both unwanted and false-hope. They were at war. Bucky was a pilot. Death was a very real concern and not something to be taken lightly. Not when so many boys had already gone down in flames. 

“What song are we going to dance to on Tuesday?” Frank asked softly, after a few moments of understanding passed between phones. 

Bucky chuckled, but the sound wasn’t like before, “all of ‘em, if I can help it.”

---

Frank found herself slipping out of the back of the Jeep later that next afternoon, pilot’s bag at her side as she made her way from the drop point towards the airfield. She just finished a successful run to London, but unfortunately the plane she was supposed to ferry back hadn’t been ready, so she hitched a ride with one of the groups heading up north. She needed to check in with Dorothy, her CO no doubt concerned about where one of her pilot’s had disappeared to. She had just entered the administration building, eyes peeled for the familiar form of her best friend and commanding officer when Edith clicked her tongue at her, pen tapping along the wooden desk. 

“Have you seen Dor—”

Edith motioned her closer with the end of her pencil, eyes darting around the room as if she were afraid someone were listening. Frank stepped closer, bag resting at the base of the desk as she leaned over to better hear Edith’s whisper, “you didn’t hear this from me—but you’re gonna want to drop by the infirmary.”

Frank searched Edith’s face, chapped lips parting slightly as she tried to figure out what the older woman was implying. Was Dorothy ok? Rose? Amelia? What happened? As far as Frank remembered, none of the other girls were scheduled to fly today, and Dorothy already flew as little as possible now that she was a somebody. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for there to be accidents on the base—planes malfunctioned, engines caught fire, it was all definitely within reason, but there wouldn’t be any reason for them to be involved. They weren’t engineers. 

“Is everyone ok?” Frank asked, her voice coming out a little louder than a whisper and Edith only waved the pencil at her, motioning for her to quiet down, “what’s going on?”

“Trust me,” Edith’s eyes sparkled with something Frank couldn’t place, “you’re going to want to drop by the infirmary.”

Confusion only clouded Frank’s face as she stood back to her full height, “is everyone ok…?”

“Bloody hell—yes,” Edith rolled her eyes, “go to the infirmary, stop being so thick.”

“Geez,” Frank mumbled, grabbing her handle, “and to think I brought you back a chocolate square...” She dug into the pilot’s bag and handed it over to Edith, the older woman’s face lifting in pure happiness, “remember that next time you call me thick.”

“I’ll call you thick while I eat it, how about that?”

Frank only laughed, shaking her head, “everyone better be ok, or I’m coming back to get it.”

“I’d like to see you try, darling.”

Frank made her way quickly out of the administration building, past the tower and over to the far side of the airfield where the medical buildings were. A stretch of five buildings that made up the RAF Ratcliffe station hospital and a few ambulance trucks with the Red Cross logo on them greeted her and Frank safely stowed her bag in one of the corners of the infirmary before she entered. There was a bit of commotion going on and Frank scanned the handful of people or so who were in the main waiting area, most of them men with rumpled uniforms. She was used to seeing both RAF and USAAF uniforms on a daily basis, so she didn’t even register that all of the men had on the telling green that the USAAF wore. It wasn’t until she was about to move into the infirmary, unsure of what she was even looking for when the door opened and in walked Amelia. 

“I was hoping to catch you before you got here,” Amelia moved quickly towards Frank, tight blonde curls bouncing and Frank didn’t miss the way half of the men standing around eyed the commander with interest.

“What’s going on?” Frank asked, “I went to try to find Dorothy to let her know I just got back to the station, but Edith told me to come here…”

“Of course she did,” Amelia rolled her eyes, “she and Rose have been clucking like a bunch of hens the last few days, I’m surprised you didn’t hear any of it. Come with me.”

“Is Dot ok?” Frank frowned, “I’m starting to get really worried…”

“She’s fine, she’s in there right now, but she’s not in there, in there, if that makes sense.”

“No…actually…”

Frank let Amelia pull her back out of the hospital, Frank’s clunky boots combined with Amelia’s tidy heels making an interesting scraping/clicking noise as they walked down the pathway towards the runway, “just remember that everything’s ok, alright?”

“I’m starting to get really tired of hearing that.” Frank was far too busy concocting wild scenarios in her head that she didn’t register the massive plane sitting on the runway. It wasn’t unusual to have military planes of all shapes, sizes, and classes on their airfield. They ferried just about every type of plane imaginable to the various stations and maintenance fields, so seeing the massive B-17 Flying Fortress on the runway really wasn’t that shocking. However, catching a look at the state of the plane was a completely different story. Frank was pretty certain one of the propellers was just barely hanging by a thread. “...what…happened…?”

“Two of the engines failed while they were on their way back,” Amelia said as they came to a stop somewhere halfway between the plane and the hospital, “they had to make an emergency landing. Radio communications were already down and they weren’t able to radio in to Tower. Three of the men didn’t make it, including one of the pilots.”

Frank continued to frown, eyes shifting over to Amelia, “what’s going on? I feel like I’m missing something.”

“The landing gear was gone, they came in hot, it’s a miracle any of them made it, honestly…”

Frank glanced back at the plane, eyeing the distraught state it appeared to be in. Several trucks surrounded it as handfuls of men moved both inside and outside of the plane. “What does this have to do with Dorothy? Or me?”

Amelia looked over at the plane before looking back at Frank, “Major John Egan flew that plane in.” Amelia’s voice softened and Frank felt her entire heart stop, Amelia’s previous words of ‘one of the pilots’ echoing over and over again inside her brain. 

“What?”

“He’s alright, I think,” Amelia shook her head, “Dorothy’s monitoring the situation. There was some debate on if he’d been hit or not. He was conscious when he crawled out, but I’m not sure alert’s the best way to describe it. We’ve been trying to get in touch with his station, but there’s been a lot of waiting.”

“He wasn’t alert?”

“He walked out,” Amelia rested her hand on Frank’s elbow, “I’m sure he’s ok—Dorothy’s still in there. She wanted to give you time to process it before you walk in there. I wish Edith hadn’t mentioned anything…”

“Is he…breathing…?”

“Yes, yes,” Amelia nodded, “yes, as far as I know. But…we all know how you can be and the last thing we wanted was to just throw you into this without a heads up.”

“Ok…” Frank ran a hand across the back of her neck, unable to look away from the plane, “he’s in there and Dorothy’s with him and he’s…ok…? So, that’s good. Why—why would I need a heads up? I’ve only known him a week.”

“Frank…” Amelia gave her a patient look, “you know that doesn’t matter. You’ve not had anyone this close before in the hospital, and we all know you’re still in denial and combining those two things would surely result in some wave of emotion and Dorothy just wanted to let you process that alone.”

“So you’ve been talking to Rose too,” Frank rolled her eyes, arms folding across her chest as she looked away from her friend and over towards the plane. “First of all—I’m not in denial. I’m just being cautious. He’s a pilot, he likes that I fly. Does he like me or does he like flying? Ok? I don’t think it’s so wrong to want that question answered before I jump into bed with him. And second—why are you looking at me like that?”

Amelia only shook her head, “like what?”

“Like I’m a loon.”

“Maybe you are,” Amelia only nudged her shoulder, “and maybe you’re trying to distract from the fact that you’re worried sick right now.”

Frank gritted her teeth, hands squeezing her arms as she continued to keep them folded, frown across her face as her eyes raked over the Flying Fortress once more, imagining Bucky somewhere in there, up in the sky, under attack. “I’m not worried sick.”

“You didn’t eat anything for breakfast.”

Frank exhaled roughly, and she could feel the brief sting of tears along the corner of her eyes, but she pushed them away just as quickly as they came, pursing her lips as she tried to get her body under control, unsure of what she was even feeling herself. “I was late.”

“Ok,” Amelia rolled her eyes, “sure—it’s not just a river in Egypt, you know.”

Frank grunted unhappily, her eyes still trained on the plane when she heard approaching footsteps, her head turning to see Rose making her way towards the two on the edge of the tarmac. “You’re involved?”

“Nice to see you too,” Rose smiled softly, coming to a stop beside Frank, her arm sliding around the brunette before she squeezed her shoulders, “ready to go see your air exec?”

“Rose…” Amelia shook her head and Rose’s smile dropped as Frank continued to stare long and hard at the plane, the Captain unmoving from her position.

Eventually Rose’s arm moved back to her side, the two exchanging concerned glances over the top of Frank’s head, their friend staring blankly at the plane out on the runway, as if it were going to give her the answers to all of life’s tough questions. The truth was, Frank wasn’t sure how she felt. She liked talking to Bucky, she liked flirting with him and she enjoyed the banter that he handled so well—but she wasn’t sure if her heart was ready for this again. Or at all, really. Sure, it was harmless flirting, but that eventually turned into something and that would lead to something more and could she handle that? The chance of him being wounded or worse? What if he never came back? He was an Air Exec, sure, the odds of him getting in another plane were slim to none, but she knew Bucky would never be satisfied behind the desk. She knew deep in her bones that if she decided to get involved with him, that if she let him pursue her, there was a very real chance that this would happen again. And again.

It was already well into the afternoon by the time Frank arrived back at the station, and so it wasn’t at all surprising that while Frank was deep in thought on the airfield, the sun was slowly setting to the west, the once blue sky turning into various shades of orange and purple. Ameila and Rose stood with her, neither of them speaking and instead observed the scene before them, watching as the plane was evaluated to see if it could be put back together or if it would turn into scraps. The sun moved lower, panels of the plane being removed when she heard her name. 

She turned her head to see Dorothy making her way towards the group, frown across her face, “what the hell are you all just standing out here for?”

“Thinking,” Rose called back, “...I think.”

“You wanted us to give her a heads up,” Amelia nodded towards Frank, the brunette’s gaze still not straying from the plane after she turned her head back around to look at it. 

“Yeah—a heads up, not an ulcer,” Dorothy rolled her eyes, moving between Rose and Frank to loop her arm through her friends, “they scared you, didn’t they?”

Frank only tilted her head to rest against Dorothy’s, eyes glancing downward as they filled with tears briefly before she forced them back again. Quietly, she asked, “is he ok?”

Dorothy hummed softly, “he’s ok, love. Going to make a full recovery, his head’s harder than I thought. But that’ll be good for him—Lord knows he’ll need it to put up with you.” Frank laughed, shaking her head as Dorothy squeezed her arm, “c’mon—tell me what’s going on. How long have you been out here?”

Amelia glanced down at the dainty gold watch on her wrist, “almost two hours.”

“Remind me never to have you two relay a message,” Dorothy rolled her eyes, “you’re dismissed.”

Amelia held up a finger, “technically we’re the same rank—”

“Good bye!” Rose drug Amelia off and Dorothy waited until they were out of earshot before she spoke again, “you don’t need to figure out your feelings for him right this second. I just didn’t want you to be bombarded with them as soon as you walked in there or saw the plane.”

“No—I appreciate it,” Frank nodded, lifting a hand to swipe one of the tears that fell away, “I would’ve panicked. You’re right. I just…didn’t really think I’d have to deal with this so soon.”

“What?” Dorothy asked, “him getting hurt?”

“No,” Frank rolled her eyes, “no—I know that’s a realistic outcome, I just didn’t think I’d…feel this way. That’s all.”

“What way, Stell?”

Frank blinked and another few tears fell, “I’ve known him…like what…six days? Seven? Something like that? I just didn’t think that I’d…get attached this early. I haven’t before. I…slept with Thomas like…six times last year and when they told me his plane went down I don’t think I even cried…I just…don’t know what I’m feeling and that scares me.”

“Maybe you just live in the moment?” Dorothy suggested, “just feel and worry about right now? He’s alive—he’s here. He’s asking for you. Just enjoy this time. And when the next time comes, enjoy that too. And if something were to happen, to any of us, we’ll deal with that as it comes. Ok?” 

Frank nodded, “he’s asking for me?” 

“You’re all he’s asked for,” Dorothy rolled her eyes and Frank laughed, “where’s Frank? Where’s my Captain? Is she here? Flew all the way to see her and she’s not even here?” Dorothy only shook her head, “I cannot wait to see your interactions.” 

“Uh, that’s not happening,” Frank took a few steps towards the hospital, “you’ll be waiting outside while I see him. There’s no telling what he’s going to say and I’m not having you hear it.” 

Dorothy laughed, head thrown back as she walked after Frank, “ooh, Stella. What do you two talk about late at night?” 

“That,” Frank pointed a finger at her, “is none of your business, Commander.” 

Notes:

Ok so I read somewhere that before Buck and the guys arrived, Bucky was MIA for like two days because he flew to the wrong station/couldn’t make it back to Thorpe Abbotts. So…we’re gonna take that and use it for time with Frank, hahahaha.

I can’t wait to read what you think!

Chapter 6: VI

VI.

By the time Frank and Dorothy walked through the doors of the station hospital, most everyone who was in the waiting room had left. Gone was the huddle of AAF pilots, and instead Frank saw a few nurses and a doctor wandering around. 

“Is he the only one…?” Frank glanced over at Dorothy but the commander shook her head. 

“No, of the ten in his fort, three died and two are wounded.” 

“Including him?” 

“Including him,” Dorothy nodded, “the other is a frost bite injury.”

Frank gave Dorothy a curious look but Dorothy only shook her head, “you don’t want to know. Trust me.” 

“I’ll believe you for once,” Frank easily stepped into the infirmary, eyeing the rows of, thankfully, empty beds. It’d been quiet in the hospital lately, they hadn’t received any overflow from the other stations, and aside from the two beds occupied in the room, it was empty. Something Frank didn’t take for granted. 

Bucky was about halfway down the aisle, on the left side. The other man from his fort was just a handful of beds further from him, on the right side. He was spread out on his stomach, arms dangling off the sides of his bed and Frank glanced over at Dorothy, but she only held up a hand with a swift shake of her head, only reinforcing her earlier statement of “you don’t want to know.” 

Despite the sun nearly setting, Bucky was propped up against the railed headboard, blankets kicked off so they spilled over the foot and onto the floor. Unlike the other man, he wasn’t in a hospital gown or even relaxed attire and was instead still in his uniform, beloved sheepskin jacket tossed over the small table beside the bed. 

“You look comfortable.” 

He was looking the other way, eyes focused on the other man when Frank approached his bedside, Dorothy slowing her speed to allow them time together without her hovering. Bucky’s head and attention snapped towards Frank as she came to a stop along side the bed, hand resting on the rails at the foot of the single bed. He looked far too big for it, his long frame stretched out awkwardly, knees slightly bent. 

“Was startin’ to think you didn’t wanna see me,” Bucky leaned back against the pillows, easy smile sliding across his face as he looked at her, taking note of the flight suit. “You flew today.” 

“I did,” Frank nodded, “earlier—I’ve been back for a bit.” 

Bucky searched her face, trying to figure out what her words meant, and Frank looked back at him just as intensely. He had a split lip, and there was what appeared to be faded blood along his temple, an almost invisible drip line that ran down the side of his face. He looked exhausted, eyes heavy and sleepy, his entire expression borderline slack. “I told you to let a fella down easily.”

Frank shook her head, glancing down at the floor briefly, “I uh—I’ve been staring at your plane for almost two hours.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows lifted, “tell any good jokes?”

Frank chuckled, thankful for the humor as she felt tears burn the back of her eyes, “no—couldn’t think of any.” Bucky stretched his legs out, arms lifting to slide back behind his head as he continued to watch her closely, “is this a precaution…?” 

Bucky made a face as he scratched the back of his neck, “apparently if you crawl out of a plane after it’s crash-landed and the first thing you do is try to play baseball, it’s a concern.” 

“I see…” Frank bit her lip to keep from laughing, but neither of them missed the snort from several beds away. 

“Got something to add, Commander?” Bucky glanced behind Frank to where Dorothy was standing, trying to act as if she wasn’t eavesdropping. 

“No—not at all, thanks!” 

“So I’m here for observation for twenty-four hours,” Bucky waved his hand around, “was tryin’ to figure out how to get out of it…but now that this angel stands in front of me, suddenly I’m feeling a little…lightheaded.” 

“Probably all the swelling.” Bucky grinned back at her and Frank turned her head to look at Dorothy, “do you want to join us…?”

“Or you can continue to hover like a worried chaperone,” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows.

“Ok,” Dorothy rolled her eyes, “I’ll get back to my paperwork. Behave.”

Frank heard Dorothy’s footsteps disappear down the hall, but she knew her friend was absolutely still in the hospital, most likely just the next room over. Frank watched Bucky extend his hand towards her and she eyed it carefully, as if she wasn’t sure what to do with it. “Are you ok?”

Bucky wiggled his fingers, “why don’t you come here and find out?”

Frank slipped her hand into his and he squeezed it lightly before tugging her gently towards him. Frank took a seat on the edge of the side, facing Bucky. He kept her hand in his, resting them both along his chest, thumb swiping along her knuckles. It was a simple gesture, and despite it being the first time she touched him, Frank felt her shoulders loosening ever so slightly, taking comfort in the fact that he was ok. 

“What happened?” Frank asked softly, making no move to take her hand back, and instead she allowed her fingers to grip his just a bit tighter. 

“Took fire on our way back,” Bucky said, thumb continuing to stroke the back of her hand, “lost a few guys on the back side and my pilot, thought we were clear but we weren’t. Started having mechanical issues well after we were in the clear and it was either put her down here or see if she could float in the water.” 

“Are you ok?” Frank searched his face, eyes drifting across his split lip again, “did you hit your head? If you thought you were playing base—” 

“I’m ok,” Bucky interrupted her softly, squeezing her hand again, “it’s just protocol—I’ll be back and in the air soon enough.” 

Frank wasn’t sure why she felt her stomach sink, but she chose to ignore it for now, eyes glancing down at their clasped hands, “I don’t think that plane’s gonna be up in the air anytime soon.” 

“Nah—we’ll take a transport or something,” Bucky relaxed further into the pillow behind his shoulders, “the guys are probably already on their way back by now. They’ll need to go through interrogation soon.” 

Frank hummed, glancing over her shoulder at the other bed, the man face down and unmoving. She looked back at Bucky with an eyebrow raised. “He’ll get discharged,” Bucky shook his head, voice barely above a whisper, “head to a hospital in London before being shipped back home once he’s well enough.” 

Frank nodded, and she fought the way the corner of her lip wanted to lift as Bucky lifted her hand off his chest before pressing his lips to her knuckles. “A bit forward, Major.” 

Bucky laughed, dropping their still clasped hands back to his chest, “couldn't help myself—seeing death on the horizon puts… things into perspective.” 

“What kind of things?” 

Bucky squeezed her hand, “these kinds of things.” 

Frank only looked down at their hands, a light blush warming her cheeks, “Dorothy said you were asking for me.” 

Bucky laughed softly, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, “I absolutely was asking for you. Flew all this way to see you and you can’t even greet me?” 

It was Frank’s turn to laugh, shaking her head at him, “how rude of me—where are my manners?” 

Bucky drew a light circle along the back of her hand, eyes twinkling, “something tells me I’m gonna like you not having manners.” Frank swatted his chest with her hand, making sure the force was strong enough he knew he was toeing the line of flirting and inappropriate just a little too close in mixed company, “I’m in the hospital!” 

They laughed together and Bucky reached for her hand when she pulled it back, “and you’ll stay in the hospital if you don’t watch yourself, Major Egan.”

Bucky shivered theatrically and Frank only scoffed as he tried to pull her hand back, but she denied him, keeping it in her lap as she smiled back at him, letting him know she was playing along with his joke, “you gonna take care of me?”

Frank made a face and Bucky only smiled back, leaning into the pillows as a comfortable air settled around them, his body relaxing at having her close, “do I look like a nurse?” 

Bucky laughed, shaking his head as Frank smiled back, eyes twinkling, “no—not so much right now. Bet you’d look nice in the uniform…” 

“I think you did hit your head,” Frank scoffed, smile still across her face, “and I think it knocked what sense you did have out.” 

Bucky only grinned back, “I like when you smile.” 

Frank felt her cheeks warm considerably, face flushing and he stretched his legs out further, shifting into a more comfortable position, “I bet you say that to all the girls.” 

“Just the ones who stare at my crashed plane for two hours,” Bucky titled his head, fingers uncurling and held out towards her, offering his hand back to her if she wanted it, “in all seriousness—it’s good to see you. I didn’t think…for a few minutes up there I didn’t think we were gonna make it.” 

“Why didn’t you eject?” Frank gently slipped her index finger along his palm, tracing the lines etched into his hands. 

“Didn’t have enough shutes for everyone,” Bucky’s response had her eyes snapping up to his, “if I can’t get everyone out, I’ll go down with the plane. Plus, she was still flyable. Landed alright.” 

“Without landing gear.” 

“Fly long enough out here and it’s bound to happen,” Bucky watched her resume her pattern tracing on his palm, her smaller finger running up his index and back down, those bright blue eyes staring down at his hand, the woman across from him very clearly deep in thought. She just drew a misshapen diamond along his palm when he curled his fingers around hers, catching her attention as she lifted her eyes from his hand to his face. She watched him lift their hands, turning hers over to press another light kiss to her knuckles, mustache barely grazing her skin, “penny for your thoughts, Captain?”

Frank squeezed his hand lightly and Bucky rested their rejoined hands on his chest again, thumb running along the back of her hand as he waited for her to collect her thoughts. “I’m worried you’re going to go back up,” Frank said softly, “and I feel ridiculous about it.” 

“About being worried?” 

“No—yes. I just…” Frank exhaled and she looked away from him, needing another moment to compose herself, “I know you will. And it’s silly of me to think you shouldn’t. That’s what you do—it’s what I do and I feel ridiculous about not wanting you to.” 

“It’s not silly,” Bucky said softly, “I worry about you.” 

“I’m not in active combat—“

“Yet.” Bucky watched her eyes snap to his, “but if they opened it up to women tomorrow, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t be the first on the list.” 

Frank was quiet, not able to deny his words and so she only sighed softly, “so we just…get to worry about each other, then?” 

Bucky only hummed, “it’s a privilege to worry, I think.” He said softly, “means someone cares about you.” 

Frank held his gaze for a handful of seconds, until the air around them felt a little too charged, her eyes drifting back down to their hands. “How are you feeling?”  

“Fine,” Bucky squeezed her hand again, ducking his head to catch her eyes, feeling the need to change the subject and get Frank out of the spiral she was clearly in, “tell me about your flight.”

“It was uneventful, really.” 

“Then tell it to me with some pizzazz.” 

Frank only laughed. 

---

Dorothy walked into the dormitory a few hours later, having been stuck at her desk with paperwork and the task of making sure the boys who crash landed got to their transports. She could feel a slight headache forming, and she was late enough that everyone should have been in bed and asleep or almost asleep by the time she approached her own. However, a quick glance to her left told her that wasn’t the case. 

Frank’s bed was empty—the sheets and blanket pulled tightly over the mattress, telling her that the Captain hadn’t even been back to her bed since she made it early this morning. Sighing, she looked around just to make sure she wasn’t somewhere else in the room before checking the dark and empty washroom. 

Dorothy knew where she was. There was no doubt in her mind where Frank was, so when she crossed the pathway from the quarters to the hospital, she wasn’t sure why she was surprised to find her pilot still in the infirmary. Perhaps it was the way she found her pilot, the brunette reclined back against the railing at the head of the bed, lips parted just enough to let soft wisps of air escape as she slept. Her knees were curled as Frank slept on her side, one hand under her cheek while the other rested on Bucky’s chest, fingers entwined with his own. 

The air exec was also asleep, on his side, facing Frank. There was enough space between them that Dorothy didn’t have to wonder how they got into that position, and based on how they were facing each other she assumed they drifted off during a conversation. Bucky laid above the blanket, still in his uniform, while Frank had the sheet draped over her waist, telling her that Frank had fallen asleep first. Dorothy felt a bit of softness seep into her gaze, pleased that even in his roughed up state, he had made sure Frank was comfortable and made sure anyone who did catch them together knew nothing nefarious was going on. Dorothy slowly backed out of the room, wide smile on her face before she turned to head to the dormitory, curious about how tomorrow would go. 

---

Frank woke several hours later with a weird crick in her neck, sunlight streaming across her face. The dormitories had curtains, and the thick material combined with the positioning of her bed, she never had to deal with sunlight directly in her eyes. However, this morning she woke up with it heating her entire face, making her feel suffocated. She was hot, sweat coating the small of her back and when she shifted she realized she was still in her flight suit from the day before. 

Blinking open her eyes, she frowned, confused as to why she passed out in her flight suit of all things. Even on some of her heaviest drinking nights she always managed to shed her clothing. She nearly rolled off the bed when she went to move, eyes wide when she felt a very long arm wrap around her, realization filling her brain a moment later. 

“Easy.” Frank was immediately embarrassed about how fast her stomach broke out into butterflies as Bucky’s rough and low morning voice filled her ear, “you’re alright.” 

Frank relaxed slightly, stomach still flipping as she felt Bucky shift somewhere behind her, his arm uncoiling from her waist and even in her overheated state she was sad to lose that contact. “Did I fall asleep here?” Frank shoved the strands of hair that escaped her bun during the night out of her face, head turning to look over her shoulder at Bucky with concern. He was on his side, facing her, one arm thrown across his eyes while the other moved to help him shift onto his back. 

He blinked himself, hands sliding across his face to dig the sleep out of his eye, groaning roughly when he tried to move again. “Appears so,” Bucky grunted, “woke up awhile ago and you were wrapped around me, but it was dark then. Must’ve gone back to sleep.” 

Frank’s jaw unhinged, face warming even more as she tried to find the words, but she only managed to squeak out a “I was what?” 

“All tucked into my side here,” Bucky tapped the empty space of cot between them, turning his head one way and then the other to try to loosen up the muscles, “like a little furnace.” 

“Oh my God,” Frank pushed the blankets off her legs, forcing herself into a seated position, despite her shoulder and neck screaming at her to take it easy, “I can’t believe I slept here. Why didn’t you wake me?” 

“‘Cause I was tired and sore and you were warm,” Bucky grunted, reaching for the blankets she discarded, “hogged all the blankets last night.” 

“So you just…cuddled me?” 

Bucky shot her an unamused look, “I didn’t cuddle you—you were already basically on top of me.” 

“Then wake me up and tell me to get my fat ass to my own bed!” 

Bucky laughed a loud laugh, shaking his head as he rolled to bury his face into the pillow, “I would never tell you that.” His smile popped one of his dimples out, eyes shifting across her face with amusement, “besides, I liked it. I like you.” 

“Don’t flirt with me in the morning,” Frank waved her hand as she shook her head, still trying to clear the last clouds of dreamworld, “not when I’m trying to figure out what happened.” 

“Nothing happened,” Bucky shook his head, “we fell asleep. You’re a little cuddle bug, would never have guessed that, and that’s it. Nothing inappropriate happened.” 

“We slept in the same bed!” 

Bucky play gasped and Frank rolled her eyes, moving his hand away when he tried to reach for hers, “it’s fine—it doesn’t mean we did anything. It’s not a big deal, I’ve slept in Buck’s bed before ‘cause I didn’t want to walk to my own. He’s not quite as nice to cuddle with as you are.” 

“You’re two men. That’s different.” 

“So even more scandalous then, huh?” Bucky clicked his tongue, hand sliding along her wrist, smiling when she let him take her hand, pulling it towards him to press a gentle kiss to the back of it, “good morning, Captain.” 

Frank scoffed and Bucky only smiled wider, eyes crinkling as she got to her feet, hand still in his own, “good morning.” 

“I’ll remember you’re not a morning person,” Bucky pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing at the way his side ached when he twisted, “I’ll have coffee waiting next time.” 

“I doubt there will be a next time.” Frank released his hand to straighten her flight suit, yawning softly.  

“I sure as hell hope there will be,” Bucky’s smile widened across the length of his face, leaning back against the railings at the head of the bed, “God, I hope there is.” 

Frank laughed, shaking her head at him, “I need to go change. Especially before more people are up and moving around.” 

“Are you flying today?” Bucky asked, hand lifting to loosen his tie, undoing it as he watched her walk around the bed, hands resting on the rails at the foot, “or do I have the pleasure of seeing you more?” 

“I’ll have to check with Dorothy,” Frank yawned, “I can’t remember. But you seem fine, I bet you’ll be up and out by the time morning rounds are over.” 

“Don’t count on it,” Bucky winked at her, upper body shifting, “I’ll see you later, Captain.” 

“That response worries me,” Frank eyed him suspiciously, “I’ll see you before you leave, Major.” 

---

Frank slid into the empty chair at the table about an hour or so later, after she managed to shower and change, her hair still damp in spots. “Finally,” Dorothy eyed her over her cup of coffee, sipping the warm liquid slowly. Rose sat beside her, busy slathering jam onto her piece of toast while Amelia scanned the newspaper across from Rose. “I wondered if we’d see you today.”

Rose glanced up as her knife clattered beside her plate, “you leave early this morning? Your bed was empty when I got up.” She bit into her toast, crumbs falling onto her uniform as she waited for a reply. 

“Yeah,” Frank fidgeted in her seat as she reached for the glass of water in front of her, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Amelia hummed from her position beside her, both Rose and the tall blonde accepting her answer easily, but when Frank looked up at Dorothy, she knew she was caught. Dorothy’s face was passive, and to anyone who didn’t know her as well as Frank did, it would seem like she was just simply listening, but to Frank, she could tell by the way Dorothy eyed her, the way her gaze lingered just a little too long on the damp ends of her hair, that she knew Frank hadn’t spent the night in the dormitory. 

“Have you seen your air exec yet?” Rose asked once her mouth was clear, a server making his way over with a cup of coffee for Frank, who thanked him softly when he placed it down in front of her, “is that where you were?”

“No,” Frank shifted again before stopping, mentally scolding herself for being so suspicious, “no, I was just finishing up my logs. I didn’t get to finish them yesterday, what with all the…excitement.”

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time,” Amelia folded the newspaper before she clasped her hands together, elbows resting on the table over her empty plate, “I spoke to Georgia earlier today on her way to the hospital and she mentioned that our visitor will be here a little longer. He’s having memory trouble, apparently.”

Frank felt her heart plummet, frown crossing her face, “...what?”

“He can’t remember his station,” Dorothy picked up for Amelia, “seems to have… slipped his mind. Doctor Harlow isn’t comfortable sending him back just yet. Doctor’s worried he hit his head or something.”

Frank stared long and hard at Dorothy before she glanced at both Amelia and Rose, slowly reaching for her cup of coffee as she processed their words. Bucky seemed fine earlier—he seemed fine the night before. Nothing he said or did gave away that he was feeling differently, or that he was having memory problems. In fact, he seemed very alert for someone who had landed a B-17 like that. Did he have a relapse this morning? Did sleeping somehow make him worse? 

“Sounds to me like someone wants to be here a little longer,” Rose mumbled around a fork full of eggs, “like something I tried to pull in grade school when I didn’t want to go.”

A very slow, knowing smile fell across Dorothy’s lips and Frank felt her heart restart, realizing that her friend was right. “I think you might just be right, Rose,” Dorothy lifted her cup again, sipping it slowly, “I think someone’s enjoying his time here.”

Rose wiggled her eyebrows and Frank scoffed as Amelia giggled, resting her chin on her clasped hands, “you better not be flying today.” Her eyes shot to Dorothy, “if she is, can I have her flight? She should stay here—if he’s having memory trouble she should be nearby.”

“It’s only the right thing to do,” Amelia added when Dorothy hummed, “she’s the only one he knows—being in a strange place with people he doesn’t know can’t be good for him.”

Frank rolled her eyes and Dorothy chuckled softly, “you both make valid points.”

“Oh, come on,” Frank rolled her eyes, “you all are full of it—he’s fine.”

“I don’t know…” Dorothy shook her head, “I heard he was on death’s doorstep this morning. You should go check on him.”

Frank couldn’t keep the scoff from her lips, the girls giggling when she reached forward for her cup of coffee again, “he’s fine. I can fly.”

“Well,” Dorothy only shook her head before she reached for her fork, spearing one of the sausages as she spoke, “as luck would have it—you’re not flying today. But I have a stack of paperwork with your name on it on my desk if you need something to do.”

“Take the hospital,” Rose stage whispered, holding her hand up alongside her mouth to keep with the facade of Dorothy not hearing it, “go nurse the wounded pilot back to health.”

“I’m not nursing anyone—”

“It’s a figure of speech,” Rose dropped her hand, “I don’t literally mean whip your tit out and let him have a go. Unless you’re into that sort of thing. Could be nice.”

“Rose,” Dorothy hissed, sending an apologetic look to the server as he nearly tripped over his own feet, Frank’s breakfast plate clattering onto the table a moment later, “can we please get through one meal without you scarring someone?”

Rose pushed her plate away, dabbing the cloth napkin against the corner of her mouth, “if tits startle someone, they shouldn’t be contributing to the war effort. You can’t change my mind.”

“Evidently not,” Amelia snorted into her hand, smiling as Frank only shook her head, ignoring Rose’s comment as she dug into her breakfast, “do you often find yourself whipping your tit out, Rosie?”

“First of all,” Rose shook her head, “only my Nana can call me that and second of all—you never know. Depends how much I’ve had to drink, I suppose.”

Dorothy exhaled in frustration, eyes lifting up to the ceiling, “Lord give me the strength.”

Frank lifted her fork in the air, mouth half full of eggs, “amen.”

---

True to his word—Frank did see Bucky again. Walking into the infirmary shortly after she ate breakfast and returned to her dormitory to grab something, Frank only shook her head as she came to a stop in front of his bed, one hand in the pocket of her uniform jacket, the other holding a book under her arm, “I just heard you’re being kept for another twenty-four hour cycle.” 

“Huh,” Bucky leaned back on the bed, long legs crossed at the ankles as he grinned back at her, “guess they’re worried about me.” 

“Funny,” Frank eyed him as he continued to smile at her, “you seemed fine this morning.”

“Guess I need my Captain to keep my memory sharp,” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows at her, “things seem…so much clearer now that you’re here.”

“Suddenly remember the name of your station, do you?” Frank lifted an eyebrow, fighting the smile that wanted to cross her lips, “Thorpe Abbotts?”

“That’s it,” Bucky snapped at her, finger pointing in her direction, “don’t you know, it was right there on the tip of my tongue.”

“Uh-huh,” Frank rolled her eyes, “how long do you think you’ll get away with it?”

“Just another day,” Bucky patted the spot beside him, the same place she spent all of last night and early this morning, “come sit with me.”

“I have a stack of paperwork to do,” Frank shook her head, “I think it’ll be easier to deal with.”

Bucky rested his hand over his heart, “that one hurt, Captain.”

Frank laughed, moving around the bed to take a seat on the edge of the mattress, the same spot she started in yesterday evening, legs crossing at the ankles as she smoothed her skirt out, facing him now, “seriously—how are you feeling?”

Bucky’s voice lowered after he glanced around the infirmary, “I’m fine. I promise. I just don’t want to leave you yet.” Frank could feel her cheeks warm as she shifted her gaze, feeling much too embarrassed to look directly at Bucky, however as she stared down at her lap she watched his hand slide across the bed to run over hers, thumb brushing her knuckles, “getting shy on me, Captain?”

“Don’t push it, Major,” Frank tapped the back of his hand with her index finger before he slowly laced their fingers together, Frank allowing him to hold her hand in the space between them, “I do have paperwork to do and I’ll leave you here to do it.”

Bucky only hissed, free hand resting on his chest as if he felt pain and Frank rolled her eyes playfully. After a moment his eyes moved from her face to her arm, eyeing the book, “what do you have there?”

“I brought you something,” Frank’s fingers swept the spine, staring down at it as she briefly debated if it was dumb of her to do this, “it was a Christmas gift from Rose, but I’ve already finished it. Of all the books I have, this one seemed like the one that might interest you the most. I’d imagine it’s pretty boring laying in bed all day.”

“Not so boring if I’ve got a gorgeous girl beside me,” Bucky leaned his head back as he watched Frank hand him the book, her cheeks tinted a shade darker than the red spine of the book, which was no doubt worn from her reading. “Guys and Dolls?”

“Like I said,'' Frank shrugged, “it seemed like the only one you might find interesting. Unless you want to read something written by Daphne du Maurier or Gone with the Wind…”

“This is perfect,” Bucky assured her, free hand swiping across the cover, “be even better if you read it to me.”

“I’ve already read it,” Frank shook her head, “you can keep it until you’re done, if you end up liking it, that is.”

“I’ll do that,” Bucky said, “give me a reason to bother you again when I leave.”

“Well, we are going dancing Tuesday,” Frank said slowly, “unless you’ve forgotten. Oh dear—maybe you’ll have to stay in the hospital and won’t get to make it...”

Bucky laughed, tugging on her hand to pull her towards him and Frank allowed him to do so, gasping when his arm wrapped around her and their foreheads connected. “What am I going to do with you?” Bucky’s voice lowered significantly and Frank only smiled back, liking the way his arm felt around her, her hand resting on his chest to keep herself from falling into him completely. Although, she’d be lying if she said part of her didn’t want that to happen.

“I don’t know,” Frank’s voice was quieter as well, eyes fluttering closed when she felt Bucky’s nose brush along hers, “you make my brain feel weird.”

“Is that a good thing?” 

“I think so,” Frank knew if she extended her neck just a little more their lips would meet, and they were far too close for there to be any question about how either of them felt at that moment, Bucky giving her plenty of time and opportunity to pull away if she was uncomfortable. 

“Good,” Bucky squeezed her hand, but made no move to take anything further, continuing to give her room to process, “let me know if that changes.”

“I will,” Frank promised. Feeling a little bolder, she brushed her nose along his and he only smiled back at her, eyes closed as he enjoyed the connection. “And you better not step on my feet.”

Bucky laughed, breaking their connection as he tilted his head back, shoulders shaking and Frank only chuckled as Bucky shook his head at her, hand releasing hers. She expected him to settle back against the pillows, expected them to go back to their previous conversation about books and him pretending to not feel well, but instead he slipped his hand along her neck, thumb brushing her jawline before tucking her hair behind her ear, moving closer to her again, although their foreheads didn’t touch this time. “I love talking with you,” he said softly, “without my boys—without Buck, it’s been miserable and you’ve helped more than you’ll ever know with that.” Frank ducked her face but Bucky shook his head, moving to lift her chin, his dark blue eyes searching her lighter ones, “I’m serious—I don’t know where I’d be. Drunk everyday probably.”

“Instead of just every other day?”

“She’s got the jokes,” Bucky tapped her nose with his knuckle and Frank smiled, “that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

“I like talking to you too.”

“Good,” Bucky studied her eyes before shifting his gaze down to her lips and Frank felt his thumb brush along her chin, gently resting it between his thumb and index finger, “I was starting to wonder.”

“You shouldn’t,” Frank said softly, “if I didn’t want to talk to you, I wouldn’t.”

“Noted.”

Silence fell between them and Frank waited for it to get awkward, but it never did and instead she looked over his eyes, taking in the way he seemed to hesitate on taking anything further. She knew a handful of guys who would never have sat here this closely without kissing her, without trying to take this to another level, and part of her was so appreciative that he hadn’t. That he was waiting—letting her decide what she wanted, just as he had the entire time she had known him. So when she shifted closer, her mind finally being made up on how she felt about Major John Egan, she could see the surprise flash in his eyes just before she kissed him. 

It was soft and chaste, and she was careful of his injury, giving him nothing more than a gentle brush between two lips. His were drier than hers, but somehow felt softer. Her eyes fluttered closed when they connected, and even after their three or four second kiss, when she rested her forehead against his, she kept her eyes closed. Bucky seemed to follow her lead, his own eyes closed as he nuzzled her gently, hand squeezing hers as he rested it against his chest, cupped safely under his. They didn’t speak—there wasn’t any need to. They didn’t need to discuss it, didn’t need to over think it or make light of it. It was a nice, soft, sweet first kiss, and they both took it as such. 

Bucky didn’t move in for more and Frank simply enjoyed having him close, her stomach flipping every time his nose brushed against hers or his fingers squeezed her own. Frank lost track of how long they sat like that, just enjoying the connection and the other’s presence. The book sat off to the side, forgotten for now, and Frank didn’t pay any attention to how uncomfortable her foot was tucked under her, the body part tingling as it started to fall asleep. She didn’t even move until more time passed and the sounds of the door opening jolted them apart. 

Frank moved quickly to her feet, reaching out to grasp onto the railing at the end of the bed when her foot buzzed uncomfortably, displeased with being stood on while it was asleep. Bucky leaned back against the pillows, eyes firmly on Frank as one of the nurses made her way over to the bed, checking in with him to see if he needed anything before making her way over to the other man from Bucky’s fort, who, unfortunately, was still face down on his cot, oblivious to the world around him. 

They didn’t speak until she left, heels clicking along the flooring, door closing softly behind her. Bucky motioned her towards him and Frank went easily, deciding not to fight him as he pushed himself back up into a sitting position, cupping the side of her face when she leaned over. “Let me kiss you?”

Frank nodded, eyes closing as she accepted Bucky’s kiss. This one was firmer and a little longer as his lips brushed along her bottom one, fingers sliding behind her ear to hold the back of her head gently. He kissed her upper lip next, but didn’t request anything deeper, noses brushing again when they parted.

“You’re welcome,” Frank pulled away, feeling bold enough to kiss the tip of his nose before she stood up straight, Bucky looking up at her in confusion, “for the book—you could’ve just said thank you.”

Bucky laughed, glancing over at the book, “right—thank you. I’m not sure that was enough, I might need to give you another one.”

“Mmm,” Frank shook her head, “it’s good but not like…great or anything. That’s probably enough thanks for it.”

Bucky shook his head before he pushed himself up into a standing position so he towered over her, both of his large hands cupping her face before he kissed her quickly on the lips and then the forehead, “maybe you’ll come read me a bedtime story later and I can thank you again a little more.”

“Maybe you’ll take me out before you get a bedtime story,” Frank pushed him back down onto the cot and he looked up at her with a lopsided grin, leaning back on one hand as he did, “Major.”

“I look forward to Tuesday, Captain.”

Notes:

THIS IS NOT A DRILL! Repeat! Not a drill!! We have lips on lips, people! Hahahahha. Can’t wait to read what you think! :)

Chapter 7: VII

VII.

“Are you nervous?”

Frank glanced up over the newspaper she held, eyes pausing momentarily on the article about war supplies she was reading, leaning back in her chair as Rose approached the breakfast table. “About what?”

“She’s kidding right?” Rose pointed a thumb in Frank’s direction as she stood in front of the chair beside her, Dorothy sitting opposite the brunette, “please tell me she’s kidding.”

“I don’t think she’s joking, no,” Dorothy looked up from her half-finished breakfast plate, pushing around some of the eggs. 

“How are you not nervous about your date?”

Frank rolled her eyes, reaching for her almost empty cup of coffee, the once warm liquid cooled to a temperature that made her stomach sour just a little, “is that today?”

Rose tugged the chair out away from the table a little rougher than needed, eyes narrowing, “you better be pulling my leg.”

“Thank God it’s yours and not mine,” Amelia slipped into the last empty chair, brushing some of her hair off her shoulder, “mine are long enough.”

Rose made a face in her direction and Amelia only giggled as she reached for her napkin, shaking it out before placing it in her lap, “you didn’t seriously forget about your date with Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome air exec, now did you?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Frank toyed with the handle of her cup, “I’m not sure if this can be considered a date. It’s the result of a bet that I lost—and it’s a party thrown by the 389th. Not the most romantic of places, I don’t think. So it’s really just a…get together, if you will.”

Two blank stares looked back at her as Dorothy hid her smile behind her own cup of coffee, eyes frantically looking between Frank and the other girls, waiting to see who would blink first. “You’re fucking kidding me,” usually the first to fold, it wasn’t a surprise when Rose’s hands landed loudly on the table, a few people at nearby tables glancing over, “it’s a fucking date and you know it. That man did not just spend fifty-two hours here because you’re going to see him at a fucking get together.”

Dorothy snorted coffee up her nose, waving her hands as she reached for her napkin, coughing into it as she tried to clear her nasal passages and Ameila’s jaw only unhinged, staring between Rose and Frank, trying to figure out if she was missing something or not. Frank only shrugged, fork scraping her plate as she scooped up some eggs, “if you say so.”

“No,” Rose reached across the table to grab Frank’s fork but she moved it out of the way quickly, “no, no, no—you’re not doing this. You always do this when someone is interested in you for more than just an evening. You’re going and you’re going to have a good time. You’re going to dance with him, and you’re going to flirt, and you’re going to drink, and you’re going to have a good fucking time and at the end maybe you’ll let him under your skirts. The Lord above knows a man that tall has to be well endo—”

“Ok,” Frank laughed, shaking her head, “ok—we get it. Holy…fuck, it was a joke.”

Amelia chuckled softly and Rose leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest, “what do you mean?”

“Yes, of course I’m nervous,” Frank rolled her eyes, “yes—it’s a date. Yes to it all, ok? I was just having some fun with you. Lighten up.”

Rose only frowned and Dorothy coughed into her damp napkin, “you have to admit—she did get you good.”

“How’s it feel to be on the receiving end, Rosie?” Amelia wiggled her eyebrows and Rose only rolled her eyes. 

Rose was sour for a handful of minutes while a server brought the newcomers their breakfast plates and it wasn’t until she had inhaled a piece of toast that she spoke to Frank again, “when do you leave?”

“This afternoon,” Frank didn’t look up from her plate, “I’m waiting on a B-17 to arrive from the plant and I’ll ferry that over.”

“So you don’t have to take the day then…” Rose nodded slowly, glancing over at Dorothy for confirmation. 

“She’s technically working,” Dorothy said, “but she’s taking leave tomorrow.”

Both Rose and Amelia’s eyes shot over to Frank and she could feel her cheeks warm just a little at their intense and slightly surprised gazes, “you’re taking tomorrow?”

“Yes…”

“Oh my God,” Rose reached across the table for Frank’s hand but the brunette only slapped it away, “oh my God—you’re going to spend the night with him, aren’t you.”

“Stop it,” Frank leaned back heavily in her chair, “I am not. I just know that the party will most likely go late and unless I want to be up at like…five in the morning to catch a transport, I was going to need to take the day. I’m staying at the pub not too far from base, alone.”

“Does he know that?”

“I didn’t really run it by him,” Frank gilded her finger along the rim of her coffee cup, “I’m not ready for that.”

“Maybe you’ll get a little kiss,” Rose wiggled her eyebrows, and the statement was meant to be playful and teasing, but when Frank didn’t immediately respond or argue against it, her mouth fell open again, “you’ve kissed him already haven’t you?”

“I—”

“Bloody hell—yes,” Dorothy rolled her eyes to look at Frank, “you’ve already teased Rose enough.”

“What was it like?” Rose rested her chin in the palm of her hand, “how many times?”

“Is that something I should be keeping track of…?”

“Absolutely,” Rose said as Amelia nodded, “what kind of kisses? Soft? Quick? Passionate? Was there tongue involved.”

“Yes, yes, no, no,” Frank took a sip of her coffee, “and that’s all I’m going to say.”

Rose grumbled, frowning down into her coffee and Dorothy only snorted, shaking her head, “you went home with someone this week, Rose. Are you really that needy?”

Rose scoffed, “just because I’ve had sex this week doesn’t mean I had romance this week. Can I fly with you? Maybe I’ll pick myself up a pilot in East Anglia.”

“No,” Dorothy was quick to shut it down, “I can’t have two of you battling to fly to Thorpe Abbotts. No, absolutely not.”

Amelia chuckled softly, “I love our breakfast conversations.”

“I think everyone else in the room could do without them,” Frank glanced around at the nearby tables and officers around them, “I’m surprised we haven’t been reprimanded yet. I really thought after Rose went into detail about the last blow job she gave, we’d be done for.”

“That was painful,” Dorothy ran a hand across her forehead, squeezing her eyes at the memory of being lectured later that day in one of her meetings with a commander who had overheard it. 

“But informative,” Rose reached for her piece of toast, taking a bite from the corner, “I’m a wealth of knowledge.”

“Of something,” Amelia giggled, “but I’m not sure it’s knowledge.”

“Rude.”

The girls giggled and Dorothy pushed herself into a standing position after finishing her coffee. Her attention turned to Frank as she buttoned her jacket, “come find me before you take off.”

Frank saluted her with two fingers and Dorothy only rolled her eyes before leaving the table and the officers mess a moment later. “Now that she’s gone,” Rose sat forward, voice lowering so only Amelia and Frank could hear, “you’re gonna let him under your skirts tonight, right?”

“Rose,” Amelia swatted her arm, “you can’t ask her tha—”

“No,” Frank shook her head, “no—not tonight.”

“But why?” Rose whined, “I want to live vicariously through you. The last guy could barely get it up and—”

“I don’t know him,” Frank shook her head, “I don’t know what he’s got going on, or who he’s got going on.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

Frank didn’t immediately respond and Amelia tilted her head, glancing over at Rose “but this one’s different.”

Frank and Rose both looked at her before looking at each other and Rose only lifted her eyebrows, “is he?”

“I don’t know,” Frank shook her head, fiddling with the handle of her spoon, “I really don’t. I just…want to know more before that happens. That’s all.”

“It’s ok, you know,” Amelia said softly after several seconds went by. 

“What is?” 

“To fall in love.”

---

“You wanted to see me?” Dorothy glanced up from her paperwork to see Frank in front of her desk, flight suit on with a bag in one hand, “I’m pushing back in like…twenty.”

“Yes,” Dorothy put her pen down before standing, making her way around the desk to lead Frank out of the administration building, the girls following the pathway towards the airfield, “how do you feel about flying a fighter?”

“Today?”

“No,” Dorothy shook her head, “just generally. We have a few that need to be moved around, but we’re having trouble getting pilots. Apparently we’re losing both men and the planes faster than they’re able to crank them out. They’ve been focusing more on the bombers, so we’ve got less inventory.”

“I’m always up to flying anything, Dot,” Frank shook her head, “you know that. What makes this one different?”

“The bases are closer to the action,” Dorothy shook her head, “there’s a higher chance for raids, which means there’s an increased risk of you being put in a position that might not be an ideal one.”

“I didn’t think we were sending ATA pilots to the coast anymore,” Frank glanced curiously over at her CO, “after the mess last summer.”

“There have been…” Dorothy chose her words carefully, “less Nazi patrols along the coast in the last several months and with the lack of planes and pilots, they’re going to start reassigning us transports and ferries.”

“Less patrols,” Frank looked up ahead at the B-17 she’d be on in a handful of minutes, “because they’ve already leveled the towns.”

Dorothy only nodded, eyes lifting upwards to look at the mostly clear sky, “yes—it appears the Germans have shifted their attention away from our battered stations. So…we’ll be running a lot of boys down, I’m told,” Dorothy said, “the practice camp for the RAF Regiment Gunners has been a success, so they’re going to continue with that. Just…be prepared, alright? I don’t know who we’ll send down first, could be you, but might also not be since you’re cleared to fly the forts and there are less pilots for those. Just—know it’s coming.”

“I can’t tell if you’re worried or excited,” Frank came to a pause as they reached the tarmac, squinting back at Dorothy in the sunlight as she reached down to dig for her sunglasses, “maybe both?”

“More worried than excited,” Dorothy rested her hands on her hips, watching as Frank pulled out her glasses and slid them onto her face, “you might want to run it by your pilot—”

“No,” Frank put a stop to the conversation before it had even slipped from Dorothy’s mouth, “he doesn’t get any say in what I do or where I go. He has his orders and I have mine and that’s how it’s going to be.”

“Frank,” Dorothy cocked her head to the side, small smile across her lips, “he should know if you’re flying into airspace that’s considered active.”

“He can know,” Frank shrugged, “but I’m not asking him or running anything by him. So get that out of your head.”

“Forgive me,” Dorothy smiled softly, “I just want this to go well for you—you don’t want to build anything on sand, now do you?”

“Maybe I’ll tell him,” Frank considered, “and depending on how he handles it, I’ll know if I want to take him to bed or not.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Dorothy scoffed, “it would just be kind to give him a heads up that the girl he’s courting might not come home one day.”

“He knows,” Frank shook her head, “that’s not a concern.”

“You’re impossible,” Dorothy sighed, “I wish Major Egan all the luck.”

Frank laughed, “I’m going now—fix yourself while I’m gone. I don’t want to hear any of that again. You’ve been spending too much time with men if that was your first concern.”

Dorothy only held her hands up in surrender and Frank nodded to her before leaving the blonde on the walkway, crossing the tarmac quickly to get to the B-17, mind straying to thoughts of flying along the coast. 

---

Frank’s descent from the clouds was smooth and it wasn’t long after that she bid goodbye to the tower. Butterflies filled her stomach as she went through her procedures before making the long walk to the belly of the plane. Her eyes drifted upwards as she walked, hands running along the interior walls and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like in action—what it looked like when it was doing what it was meant to do. Men would be all over the area, bombs ready to drop and despite flying them on an almost daily basis, Frank just couldn’t seem to grasp what all of that looked like. 

When her boots hit the tarmac she wasn’t at all surprised to see Bucky waiting for her. Hands on his hips and sunglasses firmly on his face, he only grinned at her as she stood there, “afternoon, Captain.”

“Major,” Frank reached for her bag, partly so that he wouldn’t and partly so she had something else to focus on, the brunette not quite sure where they stood even after the handfuls of kisses they shared while he was in the hospital. “How’s your memory?”

Bucky’s already wide smile widened even more, the tall man ducking his head so his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose, “why—should I be remembering anything specific?”

Frank laughed, moving around him towards the waiting truck. She tossed her bag in the back as Bucky turned to walk to the driver’s side, knowing smile still on his face as he climbed in. “Well, if you have to ask that, I’m going to say no.”

Bucky shook his head, reaching down to start the jeep before he turned his head to glance behind them. They were along the furthest runway, and aside from a few stray ground crew members, they were alone. So he waited, watching as Frank hopped into the truck and when she settled in her seat and turned towards him did he make his move. His hands cupped her jaw quickly, thumbs sliding along the apples of her cheeks as he pressed a quick, albeit lingering kiss to her lips. When they parted, Frank couldn’t help but laugh softly, their foreheads resting against one another, “so the memory’s good then.”

“Great, even,” he kissed her again and the frames of their sunglasses knocked together. Frank kissed him back quickly before he released her face, sending her a sly smile as she resettled in her seat, “how was the flight?”

“Uneventful,” Frank watched Bucky maneuver the vehicle around the plane, one hand on the wheel while his opposite elbow rested on the doorframe, “so…good?”

“Glad to hear it,” Bucky glanced over his shoulder, “you just flew my plane in.”

“Yours?” Frank’s eyebrows rose, “you’re flying it?”

“Tomorrow,” Bucky nodded, “so hopefully that means it’s good luck.”

“You’re going up tomorrow?”

“First light,” Bucky glanced over at her, but the sunglasses hid both of their expressions, “so I can’t drink too much tonight.”

“No, of course not,” Frank shook her head, teeth grazing her bottom lip, “do you want me to go back? We don’t have to tonight—I don’t want you distracted or to not sleep well—”

“I’ll be fine,” Bucky shook his head as he switched hands, his left on the wheel while his right slid over her shoulder, thumb swiping along the back of her neck, “trust me—there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing than spending the evening with you.”

Frank felt her face flush and based on the way Bucky’s smile remained she knew he knew, but she took comfort in the way his thumb ran along the back of her neck for a few more seconds. He dropped his hand once they approached the tower and Frank watched him park the Jeep in the designated spot before they both slipped out. Bucky left her to finish up her paperwork and it wasn’t for another hour that she found him just outside of one of the administration buildings, leaning against the railing. 

“Got everything signed and filed away?”

“Good for now,” Frank approached and he nodded her closer after she stopped a few feet away, hand tapping the bars beside him. 

“That might be too close,” Frank warned him, but she moved anyway, coming to stand beside him, hip resting on the railing as she faced him. 

“Nah—it’s fine,” Bucky shook his head, turning so his forearms rested on the railing, back to the building, “no one cares. I already got my talking to a few days ago.”

“You got in trouble?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky glanced over at her, sunglasses drifting so she could see his eyes and he winked at her, “my…CO wasn’t as gullible as your doctors were.”

“I see,” Frank shook her head as she turned to lean beside him, her hands on the bars now, their shoulders nearly touching, “can’t say I’m surprised. You’re a terrible actor.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “they bought it, didn’t they?”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Frank mused, “if I ever want to get out flying.”

“I doubt that day will ever come,” he nudged her shoulder, “pretty sure you’ve got more flight time than I do.”

“Probably,” Frank hummed and he chuckled, “but you get to leave the island.”

“That I do,” Bucky sighed heavily, “did you ever get to before…?”

“No,” Frank shook her head, “I wasn’t far enough up the ranks and when I finally was, they changed the rules to make sure women couldn’t fly to the rest of Europe. So…I’m stuck flying over Great Britain until further notice.”

“Sounds like a dumb rule,” Bucky commented, glancing down as his feet shuffled, “but it’s better than home…I think.”

“Yeah—it’s worse there,” Frank shook her head, “I’m not sure they’ll ever let women in the military.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky shook his head, “I bet it’ll happen sooner than later—there’s too many women like you out there. You’ll wear ‘em down eventually.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

Bucky laughed, smile playing at the corner of his lips, “it’s definitely a compliment.”

Frank shook her head at him, pausing before she asked, “you’d let me fly with you?”

“I’d let you fly the whole thing,” Bucky shook his head, “I’d happily sit back and let you control my plane.”

“Ok,” Frank rolled her eyes as he laughed, “maybe you can just keep flying your own plane, then.”

A short laugh escaped his mouth, “I don’t think we’re talking about actual aircraft here anymore.”

It was Frank’s turn to laugh and she ducked her head, feeling warmth seep into her arm as Bucky leaned his against hers. They stood there in a comfortable silence, watching the routine on the tarmac—planes shuffling around, trucks driving by. “You’ll have a parachute this time, right?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky nodded, “the Brits are letting us borrow some. They made it very clear that they wanted them back after we get ours.”

“How often do you fly?”

“This’ll be my last one,” Bucky said, “once my boys get here I won’t need to go up to observe anymore. I’ll be back at my desk—unless I get canned or somethin’.”

“Likely odds?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky glanced over at her, hand lifting to pull her sunglasses down her nose so he could see her eyes, “depends on how often I see this pretty face. Might get a little rowdy if I go too long without seein’ you.”

Frank shoved his hand off and he grinned as she pushed her glasses back up, “you better not—you’ll find your ass on a boat home if you get too out of control. Then where would we be?”

“Oh—I’d be hauling ass through the fields before that,” Bucky grinned back, “no way am I leavin’ you here and going back home.”

Frank laughed, shaking her head, “you’re ridiculous.”

“S’the truth,” Bucky said, both pilots watching as a truck came to a stop several feet away, “there’s our ride—c’mon.”

Frank pushed away from the railing, following Bucky down the stairs to the awaiting vehicle, “where are we going?”

“I’m taking you into town,” Bucky said as he walked around to the drivers side, clapping hands with the uniformed driver as Frank placed her bag in the back, “get you settled and then I’ll come pick you up in a few hours.”

Frank climbed into the passenger’s side, “I didn’t tell you I was staying in town.”

Bucky only smiled, “I know.”

The drive into the nearby village was under ten minutes and Frank watched as Bucky navigated the roads easily, the Major familiar with the turns and and curves. An average sized pub was one of the first buildings they saw as they came into town and Bucky expertly maneuvered the Jeep off to the side so as not to block the road. “It’s a long walk back to the quarters when you’re drunk,” he said and Frank only laughed, “especially in the rain.”

“I can only imagine.”

Bucky shut the car off, “I came here my first night—I thought it’d be a closer walk than the town to the north, turns out it’s almost twice the amount of time ‘cause you gotta walk around a river. Beer’s not as good either.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’ll take you there,” Bucky reached for his sunglasses, taking them off his face before clipping them to the front of his uniform, “next time you’re on leave—we’ll go have a drink.”

“I’ll have to see how you dance first,” Frank took her own glasses off and she felt his hand slide along her shoulder to rest on the back of her neck again, “scuff my shoes and there won’t be a next time.”

Bucky laughed before pulling her towards him. Their foreheads met first and Frank brushed her nose alongside his before they kissed. This one was different—Frank knew before Bucky even tried to deepen it that it would be different. He angled his head not long after their lips connected and Frank happily granted him entrance. His mouth was warm and tongue soft and Frank couldn’t help but reach out to grab onto the edge of his jacket as he kissed her. His fingers slid up the back of her neck, fingertips brushing the stray strands that escaped her bun during flight and Frank exhaled softly before she moved her hand from his jacket to his face, feeling the stubble along his cheek and jaw. His mustache tickled her upper lip and Frank pressed closer after they parted to breathe for a few seconds, reconnecting their lips for another lengthy kiss.

Frank’s hand moved along his jaw and down his neck, allowing Bucky to pull her just a little closer—as close as they could in the front seat of the Jeep, and just as the tips of her own fingers slipped into his hair did he pull away, hand sliding up the side of her neck until he reached her chin, pulling it between his thumb and index. He pecked her once and then twice and Frank breathed heavily as she rested her forehead against his own, letting her lungs fill with the air she had deprived them of. “I’ll come get you in a few hours,” Bucky spoke first, voice low and filled with something that made her stomach flutter. 

Frank nodded, unable to find her own voice and instead she closed her eyes as he kissed her again, this one much shorter and with significantly less heat, “I’ll see you in a few hours, Major.”

Notes:

Is it getting warm in here?! Someone might need to turn on a fan for next chapter. Hahahahaha. I can’t wait to read your thoughts!

Chapter 8: VIII

Notes:

I couldn’t leave us for too long not knowing what happens next, hahaha. Enjoy!

VIII.

Much to Frank’s surprise and Bucky’s frustration, the Air Exec was called away to attend a rather impromptu meeting about supplies and why over half of it had still not arrived. Or at least, that’s what the poor cadet who picked Frank up outside the pub a few hours later told her as he awkwardly drove her back to base. They attempted small talk, but the poor boy, who couldn’t have been far over eighteen only blushed when she tried to ask him how his day was, so she settled into the silence for the short drive the rest of the way. The party was in one of the larger buildings on the far end of the base, closer to the quarters than the airfield, and after thanking the driver, who only turned a few more shades of red, she exited the vehicle and made her way inside.

She walked into the party a little apprehensive. The room was filled with both men and women, a band playing off to the side, but she felt like everyone was watching her as she entered. Lights and streamers hung from the ceiling, and on one side of the room near the bar, tables were grouped together, over half of them occupied by men in uniform. A familiar haze hung in the air, cigarette smoke wafting upwards, mixed in with the occasional cigar puff. It was a mixture of dress for the women who were there, some in their Red Cross or Army uniforms, others were in civilian clothes, flowery and patterned dresses flowing with them as they danced to the music. 

Frank was somewhere in between—she didn’t like the flowery print that Dorothy always gravitated toward and she disliked the longer flowy skirts that Rose loved. Even the pastel colors that Amelia often wore made her wince as she eyed the stiff buttons and floppy bows. It all reminded her of a different time—one where her own closet looked like that, where she was an object instead of a person. So instead, she dressed herself in a simple dark blue long-sleeve dress, there were no ruffles, or prints, or bows, and it was probably the most form fitting dress she owned, aside from her uniformed skirt. The bodice flowed well into the skirt, the different textures creating a separation that Frank liked when she spotted it in the store window shortly after arriving in the UK, and the skirt was just flowy enough around the knees that she would feel comfortable sitting without feeling as if she were stuffed into a casing—giving her that sense of freedom she always looked for.

She kept her hair down, the soft waves fell over her shoulders and Frank started to regret not pinning it up as the humidity of the evening mixed with the sweat she already felt from nerves. She didn’t normally catch herself in social settings without her girls, and she started to wonder why she even agreed to this. Lost in thought as she observed the party, she didn’t see him until he approached, but Bucky found her easily, the tall pilot weaving through the crowd as he made his way from the bar to her. His hand glided across her shoulder and down her back and Frank lifted her eyes to his, searching his face as he took her in. She was always in her flight suit or uniform when they were together, and she could tell Bucky wanted to spin her, but she held her ground facing him, allowing herself to look him over as he studied her. 

She had seen him in his uniform many times, but there was something about seeing him in a less formal setting that had her brain humming. He looked happier—less stressed out, and so when he finally slid his fingers into hers and pulled her towards him she went easily. Her hands rested along the planes of his chest, fingers brushing the pins and name tag as his curved around her waist, long fingers stretched out along her back and briefly Frank wondered if he was going to kiss her—the longer kiss they shared earlier still very fresh on her mind. 

Bucky lowered his head, but he didn’t kiss her, instead he whispered into her ear something that made her knees a little weak, his voice low and rough, “you’re beautiful, Captain.”

Frank blushed, she could feel her cheeks warming and as she looked up at him through her lashes, Bucky gently pulled her even closer to him, to the point she worried it might be considered inappropriate, “thank you—you’re not so bad yourself, Major.”

Bucky grinned down at her, the pads of his fingers pressed against her spine, “you look unsure.”

“I feel it.”

His smile widened, “come dance with me, it’ll help you relax.”

“I’m not so sure it will,” Frank shook her head, eyes looking up into Bucky’s, “I think it would do the opposite, actually.”

“Nah—promise,” Frank walked with Bucky as he stepped backwards towards the dance floor, “it’ll loosen us both up. Plus, I’ll be able to keep touching you without calling any attention to it.”

Frank couldn’t deny him, and instead easily stepped into his arms, their fingers laced together as he twirled her around, holding her against him. She was surprised to find that Bucky was actually a good dancer, one of the better partners she had danced with and Frank couldn’t help but relax slightly, moving seamlessly from song to song until a slower once dropped in. 

The brass instruments dropped an octave and the strings slowed, and just as Frank prepared herself to suggest a drink or a break, Bucky pulled her closer. His lips almost brushed against her forehead and Frank couldn't help but close her eyes as he swayed them back and forth in time to the music. It was a nice song—one Frank had danced to before, although with a much different man in a much different situation. 

“Your perfume smells nice.” 

Frank tilted her head back to look up at him, a hint of a smile playing across her lips, “thank you—I swiped it off Rose’s night stand this afternoon when she was gone.” 

Bucky shook his head at her and she let him pull her just a little closer, her hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders, “something tells me I’mma be in for a rough go when I meet them all together.” 

“We have to stick together,” Frank’s eyes dropped to his lips as he ducked his head just a little lower, very aware of how close he was to her, “it’s a man’s war, you know.” 

“Don’t I know it.” 

She felt Bucky’s hand slide along her back and over her hip, and she wasn’t quite sure what he was doing until he lifted it to gently tuck a piece of hair over her shoulder and behind her ear, his long fingers skimming the shell of it, “what about your boys?” Frank asked, “am I going to be interrogated tonight?” 

“Nah,” Bucky shook his head, “they’re curious—I can tell. But they can stay curious a little while longer. I’ll wait until the others arrive, see how long it takes for one of them to say something.” 

“When do they get here?”

“Should be landing in Greenland tomorrow,” Bucky said, “then they’ll be on their way here a couple days later, depending on the weather.” 

“Is that how you flew over?” 

“Mhmm,” Bucky continued to sway with her and she knew the song was coming to an end. Despite being surrounded by other couples, the dance floor still felt like they were the only ones. The two lost in their own bubble.

“How—“

Bucky lowered his head again, forehead pressed to hers, nose brushing hers softly, “tell me your favorite color.” 

“Purple.” Frank’s eyes fluttered closed as Bucky’s lips just barely brushed along her bottom one, “what’s yours?” 

“Blue.” Frank felt his hand curve all the way around her spine, pulling her even closer and Frank knew this was definitely pushing into inappropriate territory and if it had been back home, they’d have crossed that line much earlier. Bucky’s voice dropped to a whisper as the last few bars of the song echoed around the room, “the same color as the sky back home—the same color as the one over a baseball game in early March, the same color as your eyes.” 

Frank opened her eyes, staring up into his dark blue ones, and she couldn’t help but blush as the last sound of the trumpet faded into the end of the song and it took Frank all of two seconds to make up her mind, unable to stand in the crowded room any longer, her left hand lifting from his shoulder before she reached around behind her to take his.

Bucky only looked at her in question and Frank smiled in return, pulling him off the dance floor as another song began, the upbeat tempo bringing more people back to the dance floor. Frank walked him towards the doors she came through not but an hour earlier. Bucky didn’t speak, didn’t ask her questions or wonder out loud where they were going, and instead he laced his fingers with hers as he allowed her to take him further down the hall. 

Frank took a few turns before she stumbled onto an empty hallway. There were no other doors, and the only way out of the dead end was back where they came from, the cinder block walls empty of any decoration. Bucky tugged on her hand, pulling her back into his arms before his mouth descended on hers. It was electric and wonderful and Frank placed her hands on his chest, body pressed to his, as her brain started to power off. 

Bucky tasted faintly like alcohol and spearmint and briefly she wondered if he could taste the berries she ate earlier, but she didn't get to ask as her back landed against the wall. Bucky had one hand along her jaw, the other resting flat on the wall beside her head as he tilted her head back, deepening the kiss. 

This kiss was so much deeper and more passionate than their last one was. Gone was the hesitancy and the awkwardness, unsure movements and light pecks, and in their place was one of the most passionate, if not the most passionate kiss she had ever shared. Frank knew what she was doing when she brought him out here, so she didn't let him get too carried away, her hands gliding up his chest before her fingers wrapped around his tie. Frank tugged and Bucky grinned into her kiss, hand lifting off the wall before sliding around her waist. 

Their lungs screamed for air and Frank pulled away first, lips parted as she inhaled oxygen raggedly. Strangled pants escaped Bucky’s nose as he pressed a line of kisses along her neck, occupying himself with other areas of uncovered skin until she could accept another lengthy, passionate kiss. 

Frank only needed about ninety seconds to make up her mind on what she wanted to do next, her hands flattening before sliding them down his chest and torso. Bucky didn’t pay her hands any mind until her fingers drifted past the hem of his uniformed jacket. Slowly—so slow that he wasn’t at all sure if she had intentionally meant to do it or not. 

Then she did it again. 

Her thin fingers carefully palmed him through his uniformed trousers and it was Bucky’s turn to overthink, his mouth resting against her throat as he attempted to figure out what was happening. 

His voice was thick with both confusion and desire as he whispered out, “Frank…”

Frank didn’t respond, nor did she provide any explanation, but Bucky wasn’t left to wonder for long as Frank maneuvered them into switching spots before she got to her knees. She didn’t do this often—despite being propositioned by men frequently, many of whom were her superiors, so when she chose to do it, she tried to enjoy it. 

Frank wasn’t dumb—she knew what men wanted. She knew what men at war wanted and so as she got to her knees and slid her hands along Bucky’s thighs she knew he was excited. She could see that he was, the bulge in his pants giving away how turned on he was. He groaned when she palmed him, fingers undoing the buttons and then zipper of his uniformed trousers. He was still fully dressed, and so was she, but as she freed him from his clothing she couldn't help but imagine what the rest of him looked like. 

Bucky was lean and tall, he had muscle but not in an exaggerated kind of way, he was paler, the one distinguishing feature she knew meant he was from a cooler place. A boy of his age and shape would be tanned from the sun if he were from a southern state. Briefly, she wondered if he had chest hair—or if he was one of those guys that didn’t. Eventually she turned her full attention back to what she could see, her hand sliding along his length. He was heavy and long and almost completely hard, and it only took a few strokes of her hand before he was all the way there, his head tilting back against the wall he leaned against as she explored. 

Her fingers glided along the soft skin gently—he was still dry and she didn't want to create any unpleasant friction. The reddening tip of his head greeted her when she pulled down along his shaft, waiting for her attention.

She gave it to him willingly, tongue sliding out past her lips to gently swirl around his head and Bucky groaned when she took him fully into her mouth, coating his cock with saliva. When she pulled off, she picked up speed and increased the grip of her hand, working him with long strokes, her lips wrapping around his head as she did. 

Bucky was vocal—but in noises rather than words. He moaned and groaned, hissed when she got a little rough and sighed when she teased him. His hands sat respectfully at his sides until she began bobbing, hand stroking the part she couldn’t fully reach with her mouth when his hand slipped around the back of her neck. Normally Frank would swat it away, by consenting to a blow job from her, it was an automatic “I’m in control” type of situation and she didn’t care for hair grabbing or thrusting, but with Bucky, and the way his fingers only gently caressed the back of her neck, she let him stay. 

She didn’t know what he liked, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, and his noises combined with the atmosphere and the way he cradled her neck had her hands venturing out, slipping back into his pants, fingers gliding across his testicles. She squeezed and stroked and the groan that escaped Bucky’s throat was almost feral, her thumb running along his scrotum, pressing into the softer, tender skin just on the other side of it. 

“Fuck.” Bucky exhaled breathily and she took a moment to pull him from her mouth, her right hand rejoining her left as she twisted and stroked him languidly, tongue teasing his head, swirling around the ridges. He was warm and purplish-red and she knew he was close based on the way he swelled, so she breathed deeply through her nose before taking him into her mouth once more, relaxing her throat as she bobbed her head. 

It wasn’t but a handful of seconds later that he swore again, heavy pants escaping his lips as he bowed his head and with a few final sucks, her tongue swirling around his head, did Bucky cry out in warning before he spilled down her throat. She took everything he had to give her, releasing him after she swallowed. He breathed heavily, head thrown back as his chest heaved and Frank gently stroked his softening skin, pressing a light kiss to the tip of his penis that had him groaning in sensitivity. 

She tucked him back in gently, giving Bucky time to compose himself as she zipped and buttoned his trousers, hands sliding down his thighs to smooth out any wrinkles they may have created in his uniform pants. She swallowed it all, but she still kept an eye out for any stray drops, knowing he would need to get it to the laundry sooner than later if that were the case. 

When Frank got to her feet, her hands glided over his jacket, smoothing it out next. Bucky towered over her, even in his relaxed state, but she didn't meet his eyes, instead focusing on getting him back into a presentable condition. She knew how this went—it wasn’t her first time servicing a soldier, and while she would very much like to see Bucky again, she knew there was a very real chance that he might disappear after. 

However, she didn’t expect Bucky’s hand to slip along her neck until he cupped her face, tilting her head back to force her to look at him. “That’s all it takes?” His voice was soft, but teasing, eyes searching hers, “a little bit of dick and suddenly you’re shy?” 

Frank couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from her chest, shaking her head and Bucky’s eyes crinkled as he waited for her answer, “no—I just know that talking ruins the aftermath.” 

“You can talk to me anytime,” Bucky grinned, “before, during, after—if I didn’t like you talking we wouldn’t be here right now.” 

Frank chuckled and Bucky pulled her in for a very slow kiss, she usually refrained from kissing after oral sex, many of the guys she’d been with didn’t want to taste themselves, but Bucky either didn’t care or didn’t mind, his tongue slipping in along hers a moment later.

“We should get back to the party,” Frank whispered against his lips after several long seconds went by, Bucky’s free hand sliding around her waist, keeping her against him. 

“Why? I’m not done, are you?” 

She didn't have an answer—mind reeling. She’d never had a repeat performance before, and she’d never spent more than a handful of minutes with a guy after sucking his penis, so she wasn’t quite sure what Bucky was expecting now. Her fingers ran along his stomach and Bucky rested his forehead to hers as she gently cupped him through the material of his pants. He was still soft—although slightly harder than he was a few moments ago. Did he really want another blow job? 

“Not me, doll,” Bucky’s voice was husky as he shook his head, hand sliding down her back and over the curve of her hip, fingers slowly fisting the fabric of her skirt, lifting it up higher on her leg, “I haven’t even gotten to touch you yet.” 

His simple statement had her mind blanking, brain shifting into overdrive as it tried to process what he was implying. She’d had sex before—of course she had, but never had it been anything more than a few exploratory touches before penetration. She searched his face for any hint of a joke, trying to figure out what he really meant. 

Bucky seemed to pick up on her hesitation, head tilting back to look at her fully, fingers gently loosening along her hip. He appeared to be as confused as she felt, his thumb brushing along her cheek as he tilted her face again, their eyes meeting. “Have you…not…” Bucky wasn’t sure how to word his questions, eyebrows frowning, “I assumed…” 

“I’ve had sex,” Frank whispered softly, “I just didn’t think that’s what we were doing tonight.” 

Bucky cocked his head, eyebrows furrowing further, “no—no, we aren’t. I just…you don’t want me to touch you?” 

Frank was silent for a few more moments, shaking her head as he waited patiently, trying to understand what she wasn’t saying. “I don’t—“ Frank shook her head again, eyes searching his “I didn’t think you’d want…to.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Bucky’s voice was low as he leaned against the wall, holding her against him, hand running along her back and just barely over the swell of her ass, “I had mine—now it’s your turn.” Frank hesitated again and something seemed to click as Bucky’s lips parted, facial expression shifting from confusion to realization, “has no one ever…?” 

“I’ve had sex.” 

Bucky was flat against the wall, body language relaxed as he dropped his hand from her face and moved it to rest on the other side of her waist, gently tugging her body towards his, “what kind of sex?” 

Frank furrowed her eyebrows this time, “I—just sex. Are there different kinds?”

“Yes,” despite the tone being light, Bucky wasn’t teasing, his eyes following her expressions carefully, “yes. Very much so. No one’s ever touched you?” 

“I…” Frank hadn’t ever had a conversation about sex this open before, and she couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, “I don’t know what you’re asking me.” 

Bucky ran one of his hands down her thigh towards her knee until it inched under her skirt, fingers flirting with the hem. The fabric of her skirt hitched as his hand ran along her thigh, thumb gently gliding over the lace of her stockings. She felt her heart skip a beat, stomach rolling when his hand slipped over her leg to rest along her inner thigh. He was close to her, she knew if he stretched his fingers out he’d be touching her, sparks shooting off in her brain at just the thought alone. 

“Has anyone ever touched you here?”

Frank swallowed thickly, “briefly.” 

“To check if you’re wet?”

Frank only nodded. 

“I’m going to ask a question,” Bucky gently pulled her closer, nose brushing against hers as he continued, “and I just want you to answer—I don’t want you to overthink it. Has someone, other than yourself, ever made you come?” 

Frank shook her head, closing her eyes as Bucky pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, “no.” 

“Well,” Bucky stole a soft kiss from her lips next, long nose brushing hers, “we’ll have to change that.”

“Not tonight,” Frank shook her head and Bucky’s hand stilled immediately, fingers moving further down her thigh to a position that didn’t make her feel like she might explode. He ran his hand back to the outside of her leg, just barely ghosting across the texture of her stockings before she swallowed thickly, lowering her voice to a much less frantic level, “not tonight.”

“I hear you,” Bucky whispered softly, his lips brushing against hers, “when you’re ready, doll. You’re in charge here.”

Frank wasn’t sure her body could be more turned on, but as the promise escaped his lips she couldn’t help but sigh, allowing him to kiss her deeply once more. She was convinced he could feel her heart race from how closely they stood, and she only gasped when Bucky’s hand slipped out from under her skirt and just briefly ran across her ass before it found its place on the small of her back, pressing her closer to him, “we should go back to the party.”

“Probably,” Bucky’s eyes were hooded and Frank knew that if they didn’t move out of this abandoned hallway soon, she would take him to the pub and to her bed, her body already cursing her for not doing so, “I haven’t even gotten you a drink yet.”

“Manners, Major,” Frank pressed a lingering kiss to his lips before she pushed away from him, hands moving to slide across the ones that rested on her hips, “you should know better.”

“I should,” Bucky laced their fingers together before he allowed her to pull him off the wall and back down the hall towards the music, “I really, really should.”

---

Frank felt warm from the alcohol and the way Bucky’s hand rested on her leg, long fingers wrapped around her thigh, thumb slowly brushing the hem of her dress, the pad of his thumb grazing the soft material of her stocking from time to time. She bit her lip, heart rate increasing as she sat in the passenger’s seat, watching as the farm fields slowly shifted into cottages and then the center of the village, the pub coming into a view as Bucky eased up, bringing the jeep to a stop nearby. 

He squeezed her leg and Frank couldn’t help but smile as he leaned over, lips finding hers easily in the dark. “Let me walk you in,” he breathed against her mouth, nose nuzzling hers, “I’ll be good.”

“Are you sure?” Frank asked softly, her lower lip brushing his upper one. 

“Mhmm,” his eyes were so hooded that Frank had to take a handful of seconds to compose herself before she nodded in agreement, moving away from him to climb out of the jeep. Bucky kept his hands to himself as they entered the pub—it looked similar to the one near Ratcliffe and Frank didn’t pay much of it any mind, forcing herself to walk towards the staircase off to the side, Bucky’s heavy footsteps following behind. She reached the upper floor quickly, hand sliding back behind her and he took it easily, lacing their fingers together as she led him down the hall towards a door on the left. 

She unlocked it with the key in her pocket, the door creaking open a sliver to confirm she was successful before she turned to look at him. He had one arm resting on the doorway, gazing down at her and Frank could feel her body inwardly yelling at her to take him by the jacket and pull him inside. But she kept her promise to herself—they haven’t talked enough yet. She didn’t know enough about him. “You’re sure I can’t talk you into a drink?” He asked softly, hand lifting to cup the side of her face, thumb brushing along her lower lip. 

Frank shook her head no just slightly, eyes gazing into his own, “you fly early tomorrow—we shouldn’t. Not tonight.”

Bucky nodded, his hand slowly drifting down her cheek and neck, thumb brushing a soft circle along her exposed collarbone, “next time I see you, then.”

“I look forward to it,” Frank’s voice barely reached a whisper before Bucky swooped his head down and kissed her softly, gasping when he hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

They kissed for several long seconds, and Frank had just slid her fingers along the front of his chest when Bucky pulled away, pressing his lips to her forehead, “let me check your room.”

Frank eyed him and he grinned back at her, “for what?”

“Monsters,” he kissed her before moving around her, taking in the smaller room and double bed. Frank leaned against the door way, smile across her face as he checked behind the curtains, under the bed, and then in the washroom before returning to her. 

“Clear?” 

“Crystal.” Bucky lifted her chin with his index finger, kissing her softly, “I probably won’t see you in the morning,” Bucky said, “so I’ll say goodbye now.” 

Frank felt her heart clench, and she couldn’t help but bite her lip, eyes searching his as he looked back at her longingly. “Fly safe,” Frank said, her voice soft and only for Bucky’s ears, “I have a few stops to make tomorrow, but I should be back on base by afternoon.” 

Bucky nodded, “I’ll give you a call in the evening if I make it back.” 

His words cracked her heart just a bit and Frank almost pulled him into the room with her, but she kept herself still, eyes searching his, “when you make it back.” 

Bucky let out a soft chuckle that sounded more forced than she had ever heard from him and he nodded, “yeah—from your lips to God’s ears.” 

Frank glanced away, the moment was intense and the atmosphere charged. “You should get to bed,” Frank knew it was late, they left the party late and she could only imagine how late it was now, “you need sleep and rest before tomorrow.” 

Bucky nodded, but didn’t move, blue eyes staring directly into hers, “Frank…I—“ 

She shook her head, and she could feel her throat tightening, could see it across Bucky’s face, “no—you’re going to be ok.” 

Bucky didn’t seem convinced, but nodded anyway, switching gears from what was sure to rip her heart out, “tonight was fun, I look forward to our next dance.” 

Frank laughed, pushing the tears out of her eyes, “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither,” Bucky slid his fingers along her neck, mind wandering briefly to what it would be like to not have to go back up again and to just spend the night with her, “I’ll leave you be—if you need anything just yell.”

Frank nodded, unsure of how they were going to leave things when Bucky stepped forward and slipped his hand along her jaw, bringing her chin between his thumb and index finger before lowering his mouth to hers. 

It was a soft kiss that turned just a little heated when he parted her lips, their tongues just briefly meeting again. She wanted to push closer to him, her body wanted her to, but she made herself remain against the door frame, Bucky eventually bringing the kiss back down in intensity. He kissed her again, softer, before slowly kissing her lower lip, nose brushing alongside hers. 

“Good night, Bucky,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Sweet dreams, Frank.” 

She let him squeeze her hand, their fingers momentarily tangling as he stepped back and her arm lifted to follow until their fingers parted. He winked at her in a way that only Bucky could, before disappearing down the hallway, leaving her to her thoughts and her room. 

It was a few hours later that Frank found herself alone in the dark, laying on her back in bed. She stared up at the ceiling, her body tired but brain unwilling to let her sleep. She couldn’t help but think about Bucky going up tomorrow, thinking about what he would see and experience—how many men might not make it back. 

Part of her laid in regret, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, wishing she’d pulled him into her room. Wishing she’d let him explore her as she’d done to him. A multitude of emotions filled her brain—she was worried and scared, concerned and perhaps slightly confused, but the emotion she didn’t expect to feel was frustrated. 

There had been a dull ache between her legs since Bucky’s hand slipped around her thigh in that hallway, and the kiss they shared before he left hadn’t done anything to quell that desire. It had been a bit since she was intimate with a man—since she had felt the weight of one above her, since the space between her legs was filled. 

There wasn’t much time for dating or romance during the war, and as Frank stared up at the ceiling, in an empty room for the first time in over a year, she couldn’t help but feel very aware of her body. Her nipples were hard against the fabric of her cool satin nightgown. She wasn’t wearing anything between her breasts and the fabric and so every shift provided just enough friction to keep her nipples pebbled. 

She couldn’t help herself as she gently ran her fingers down her neck, feeling the lace edge of her night gown before they slipped over the material. The satin was soft and so were the swells of her breasts, and she could feel the familiar texture of her areolas before grazing the peaks of her nipples. 

She breathed softly as a jolt of pleasure shot through her nipples—she was sensitive and hard at the same time, allowing her index fingers to glide around them, circling them. Her legs fidgeted and her hips shifted as she circled her nipples again and again, and it wasn’t until she brought her thumb into play along her right nipple, pinching and tugging that she bit down on her lip, back arching just slightly off the bed. 

She wondered if Bucky would play with her nipples, she wondered if he’d be gentle or rough—if he’d put his mouth on her like she so desperately wanted right now. Some men did, some didn’t. She’d been with a few who had kissed and cupped, one who bit down a little too hard, but more often than not she usually only got a few light, tentative touches. 

She wondered what his fingers would feel like as she cupped her breasts in each hand, squeezing lightly. She wondered if she’d fill his big hands—being a little on the chubby side growing up left her with a few generous curves, ones she hadn’t been able to fully shake even after getting in shape during training. 

Frank wanted to moan as she pulled on her nipples again, but she swallowed it back, fingers releasing her nipples once she was satisfied and there was enough heat pooling in her abdomen to do so. Her fingers glided down her stomach and when she kicked off the thin sheet covering her, the cool air sent another set of shockwaves across her body. Her nipples were alert, and part of her wanted to keep playing, but she also felt that desperate ache between her legs that she didn’t have the self control to deny any longer. 

She pulled the nightgown up as her hands slid down, and it wasn’t until her fingers brushed against her soft panties that she sighed audibly. Her knees parted and legs spread, and she gently slipped her right hand into her underwear. Her curls were slightly damp and she moved past them until she reached her mound. She was wet, she could feel it between her legs and along her fingers as she parted her lips. 

She skimmed herself before dipping a finger inside, and she tilted her head back, exhaling quietly as she slipped a little further in. Bucky’s fingers are so long—much longer than hers and she wondered how he’d feel. Would he really touch her like this? He seemed like he would, was shocked that she hadn’t been touched that way before. She gently pulled her finger back and she felt her muscles clench at the movement when she slid back in. 

She tilted her head into her pillow, lips parted. She wondered if he’d press his lips to her neck, if he’d be as vocal as he was earlier, if he’d groan into her ear the same way he had when her tongue swirled around his cock. She longed for neck kisses, for whispered praises, she wanted what the women in the dime novels have. She wanted to feel wanted, wanted to feel like she was something more than a quick fix. Wanted to be something more than a bed warmer while they’re away from their partner. She wanted marks on her neck, ones she would have to work a little harder to cover with powder, she wanted someone to write to, someone to love and someone to love her in return. 

She briefly regretted her decision to not let Bucky have his turn earlier—her fingers were familiar and felt nice, but she knew his would feel so much better. He’d fill her better, reach further, and she almost finished at that thought alone, but briefly pulled away. She wasn’t ready yet, and didn’t want to come yet. 

She didn’t know Bucky well enough. She didn’t know enough about him to let him take her to bed. She felt a connection with him that she hadn’t felt in years, and if she were to fall into bed with him and found out later he had a girl waiting back home, or worse a wife, she’d be devastated. Her heart couldn’t take another blow like that. All too often she met men who were looking for stress relief, looking for someone to get them off, only to go back to their girlfriend or wives back home when their service was over. It was more common than not, and she hated it. Hated that she fell into the traps so easily, hated that she enjoyed it, hated that she wanted more of it, knowing they had someone waiting. 

Frank pushed the hatred she often felt for herself away, choosing instead to slip her index finger around her swollen clit, giving it the attention it so rightly deserved. The circles caused pants to leave her lips, and she arched again, hips rolling into her hand. She thought of Bucky, thinking of the way he kissed her, of the way his hands felt like electricity when they ran across her back and hips, how she’d been almost a puddle of goo when he slipped those fingers under her skirt. 

She wanted more, and as she slid her other hand into her underwear, two fingers sliding inside herself, she knew she was close and she wouldn't refuse it again. She arched, fingers circling and thrusting all at the same time and when she felt that band snap before she fell over the edge, chest heaving did she very quietly moan Bucky’s name, eyes closed as she pictured that grin he only ever seemed to give her, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

Notes:

Bucky didn’t get a chance to sing tonight, but he will make up for that later, I PROMISE. Hahahaha. I hope you enjoyed our first spicy chapter, have no fear, Frank will have her turn soon. Hahahaha.

Let me know your thoughts! I can’t wait to read what you think!

Chapter 9: IX

IX.

Bucky didn’t call. 

Frank stayed up well after lights out, staring upwards at the dark ceiling. She didn’t know how to feel, didn't know what to do. She arrived back an hour or so later than she wanted to, they were delayed due to fog at take off, but as the hours ticked on into evening and then night, she grew more and more concerned. She kept to herself, alternating between the dormitory and the recreational spaces, not wanting to be too far from the phone.

But he never called. 

She didn’t sleep much, tossed and turned most of the night and only managed to catch a few hours of sleep right before the sun came up. The girls in the dorm moved around, readying themselves for the day. Some of them would fly, others would work desk jobs, filing away paperwork, filling out schedules, and returning correspondence to the plants and manufacturers. Frank was off today—she was supposed to catch up on her flight logs, go through a few routine inspections, and participate in a quick flight evaluation, but she didn't. She didn’t do anything but think.

It was well after lunch when Dorothy finally located her Captain. Frank was outside, a few buildings over from the officers' mess, and despite Rose wanting to go find her as soon as Frank didn’t appear for lunch, Dorothy kept their fiery friend at bay, opting to search for the girl herself. The brunette was leaning against one of the back walls, a half smoked cigarette between her fingers, two stubs littered on the ground near her boots.

“I’ve been looking for you for hours, it seems,” Dorothy approached, eyeing the smoke that filtered upwards and the stoic look across Frank’s face, “I checked all your usual places, but didn’t think to look here.”

Frank only inhaled a lengthy drag from the cigarette, ashing it as she slowly expelled smoke from her nose, glancing sideways at Dorothy before looking back out towards the back runway, watching a few of the planes they needed to ferry tomorrow move to their evening resting places. Hangers scattered the area, cars and smaller aircrafts filling the spaces. 

“What’s going on?” Dorothy asked softly when Frank hardly blinked in her CO’s direction, let alone said anything. Moving closer to her friend, Dorothy rested her hands along her hips, it was getting warmer and many officers opted to shed their top layers, but Dorothy was still in full uniform, complete with heavy buttoned jacket and itchy cap. 

Frank debated with herself for a moment longer—she’d been arguing with herself internally for hours now, trying to decide what to do and how to handle this situation, so after one final round with her brain, Frank tapped the cigarette again, “can you get me a report from Thorpe Abbotts? From yesterday.”

Realization crossed Dorothy’s face, and if Frank had been looking she would’ve seen pity and sadness follow, but it was a good thing she didn’t, based on her current mood and mindset, she surely would have crumbled. This was her last cigarette, there was no way she could handle more emotions without another. “Sure,” Dorothy eventually said, her voice soft and Frank squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of pity, “what am I…looking for?”

“I…” Frank’s voice cracked and she lifted her chin up angrily to the clouds, scolding herself for getting too attached. Scolding herself for getting upset—for thinking he would survive this. There was a reason the pilots whispered about Thorpe Abbots. She knew better. “I just need to see who didn’t return.”

Dorothy nodded, eyes drifting across Frank’s hunched form, her left hand lifting to brush tears off her cheeks before lifting the cigarette back to her mouth and inhaling as long as she could. “I’ll be right back.”

Dorothy wasn’t gone long, or at least it didn’t feel like it but Frank wasn’t sure how much time actually passed. She was almost done with her cigarette when Dorothy’s slightly heeled shoes echoed on the pavement. A quick glance over told her Dorothy had a folder in hand and after taking one final drag, smoke seeping out of her nose, Frank tossed the cigarette onto the ground, the toe of her boot smearing it beside the other two. Dorothy stopped not but a foot away, eyes soft and Frank knew once she took the folder that she would know. She would have her answer and it would be final. Either way—he hadn’t called. Frank hesitated momentarily, unsure of where she wanted to be—the unknown was terrible, but the other side could be worse.

Sighing, Frank took the folder from her friend and commanding officer before flipping it open. Her eyes scanned the contents quickly, the first few pages were filled with reports, the order of which the planes took off, who was flying and who was in the back. Much of the text was redacted, most likely containing sensitive information that didn’t need to be seen by anyone else. It was the final few pages that had the information she was looking for. It was a long list, about fifty or so men who didn’t make it back to base, and Frank scanned it thrice. Once for his full name, once for his nickname, and once just to confirm. Bucky was missing from the list and Frank couldn’t help but exhale what little air she had left in her lungs, heart slowing down as her brain finally relaxed. 

He wasn’t dead. 

He made it back.

She didn’t need to read the rest, she had no interest in any of it and so she closed the folder quickly before handing it back to Dorothy. “The hall is mostly clear,” Dorothy said with what she hoped was an encouraging tone, “if you want to give him a call.”

“He was supposed to call me,” Frank shook her head, new thoughts of why he hadn’t starting to fill her head, part of her scolding herself for taking things with him so quickly before she knew what his intentions were, while the more reasonable part of her brain tried to add that he could just be busy. “So he either doesn’t want to talk to me, or he’s doing something else. This is enough—he’s alive and that’s what matters.”

Dorothy leaned back against the wall beside Frank, both girls standing in silence for a handful of minutes. “The earliest I can get you back is Tuesday, next week. I’m sorry.” Frank only nodded, it was Thursday—Tuesday wasn’t too far away and she tried not to think about why Bucky might not call in those several days. “But…” Dorothy started, hand lifting to slide across the back of her neck, “if you don’t mind a long flight…I think I can get you a stop at Thorpe Abbotts tomorrow.”

Frank glanced sideways at her, searching her friend’s face as Dorothy turned her head to face her, “what do you mean?”

Dorothy seemed to hesitate again before sighing, “remember the fighters I told you about?” Frank cocked her head, but she nodded anyway, eyes searching Dorothy’s face, “we need to move a Spitfire from Shoreham to Winfield.”

Frank only continued to stare blankly, “...right.”

Dorothy snorted, rolling her eyes, “still haven’t learned your geography?”

Frank let out a dry laugh, shaking her head, “I know where I need to go and the rest I figure out when I plan my route.”

Dorothy chuckled, nodding towards the buildings as she signaled Frank to walk with her, the girls moving off the wall, “it’s far south, you’ll be right on the coast. Just like we talked about the other day.”

Frank nodded, eyes glancing down towards the ground as she processed the new information. It was less than forty-eight hours ago that Dorothy first brought the topic of fighters into conversation, and now she would be flying one? “What’s the catch?” Frank asked, “they don’t want me to go through any extra training? Are any of us going through extra training?”

Dorothy was silent for several long seconds before she eventually sighed, “no—no, we barely have enough resources to keep up with basic training, let alone combat training. It is classified as an active warzone by the ATA, but we’ll have you fly lower, to avoid any potential German scouts.”

Frank bit the corner of her lip, she’d heard this tone of voice from Dorothy before, right after the ATA decided to keep female pilots contained within the borders of the UK. She’d seen this film before—the ATA didn’t want to train them in aerial combat, because the more they knew, the more persuasive they could be to actually see the action. The RAF was already keeping them on a short leash, and with the added Americans, there was now far too much testosterone and prejudice in the sky. “What’s my flight path?”

“Well,” Dorothy shifted aside to allow a bicyclist to ride past them, bell dinging in a quick thank you, “normally I would draw you up through London, but if I just so happen to need you to fly along the eastern coast due to maintenance issues, I could possibly get you landing in Throrpe Abbotts for a refuel before continuing on to Winfield.”

“How long is the stay over in Scotland?”

“None,” Dorothy shook her head, “you’ll be on a train back as soon as you land. You’ll need to go through some post-flight debriefing.”

“For what?” Frank only frowned. 

“Nothing—it’s just protocol.”

“In case I see something,” Frank paused and Dorothy did a few steps away, looking back at her, “in case something happens.”

“Nothing is going to happen,” they both knew the commander was lying, they both knew she couldn’t promise that, “we haven’t seen any German scouts in weeks and they haven’t attacked any of the bases along the coast in months. Neither the ATA nor the RAF believe there’s any real threat.”

Frank wasn’t so sure, but she resumed walking beside her CO, lost in thought. She hadn’t flown a fighter since she started training on the big boys, and after she and a handful of other pilots were granted special approval to fly the B-17s solo, she hadn’t been put on much else. The way the ATA saw it, there were hundreds, if not thousands, who could fly the smaller ones, but there were only a select few, less than ten percent, who could fly the heavy aircraft, and combined with the specialized training, it made no sense for her to fly anything smaller than the class fours.

“Did you get special approval for me to fly the Spitfire?” Frank asked curiously, “last I heard, I’d be stuck on the four-engines for a while.”

“No,” Dorothy shook her head, “while the Spitfire is a lighter aircraft, it’s not without its own challenges. And adding in the area you’ll be flying, we need an experienced pilot with more training to take these ferries. I only have a few pilots here who qualify, and you’re one of them. That’s why I mentioned it the other day.”

“Rose?”

“No, Rose didn’t make the cut,” Dorothy said, “she failed her last review on the Fortress, so she’ll need to qualify before I can assign her a fighter.”

“Amelia can fly the B-17s.”

“She’s also a commander,” Dorothy shook her head, “we wouldn’t have her fly unless it became absolutely necessary.”

“You can’t afford to lose her…” Frank said slowly, watching Dorothy’s shoulders drop with a heavy sigh, “but you can afford…”

“No,” Dorothy whirled around, hand reaching out to grasp on her arm, “I can’t afford to lose anyone. Including you. It’s why I wanted you to tell Egan, because if he makes a fuss about it, there’s more of a chance Mantle won’t use you because he doesn’t want to fight with the AAF. I’ve done all I can do, and if you get up there and hate it, there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. Once you start flying there, you’ll keep flying there. These are not going to be easy missions, Stella. You need to understand that before I let you go. Aside from accidents and unforeseen emergencies—this is as dangerous as it’s going to get.”

“Ok, ok…” Dorothy loosened her grip and nodded, the girls staring at one another, both of them a little on the heated side, “I get it—either way I’m in the pool. It’s only a matter of time, right?”

“In theory.”

“So, my name’s going to get called up eventually,” Frank shrugged, “may as well beat them to the punch and lead us off.”

Dorothy nodded slowly, “you can say no—it was just a suggestion to get you to Thorpe Abbotts earlier than next week.”

Frank glanced around, eyeing the planes that were getting ready to take off, knowing that within hours they would find their homes on new bases, with new pilots. Looking back at Dorothy, Frank asked, “how am I getting to Shoreham?”

---

Frank had never seen the southern coast of England, when she arrived on the island she was sent straight into training and then into taxiing and eventually ferrying, none of which went further south than London. At the time she started, the coast was still experiencing frequent raids and patrols, so the ATA kept them on a tight, and safe, leash. They didn’t need to experience any unnecessary losses, they needed as many pilots as possible. So as she stood on one of the crumbled runways at Shoreham Airport, she silently took in the battered building around her. The last raid had occurred months ago, earlier in the year, but there was still so much damage to see. The control tower was hit back in February and several other nearby buildings caught fire, resulting in one of the biggest raids the base had seen. 

The Airfield manager walked her down the runway, pointing out holes in the ground and Frank made note of each one, eyeing the already short runway she had to take off. “Should be fine,” the man was older, but not by much, and despite his age Frank very much wished she could speak to someone else. He was short and condescending at best, and was doing nothing for her rapidly souring mood. Frank only glanced over at him as he paused to eye her with interest, “I told ‘em not to send me any lady pilots—it’s too dangerous out here—”

“It seems fine,” Frank stepped around a few crumbled pieces of the crushed rock and tar, “you haven’t been hit since February, right?”

The man shrugged, “who can tell anymore?”

Frank didn’t bother with a reply, her attention now firmly on the gorgeous Supermarine Spitfire sitting a handful of feet away. An older plane, she had absolutely seen her time in the sky and Frank was eager to learn more about her. Thankfully the disgruntled man didn’t put up much of a fight when she didn’t respond and instead he only spoke to her when absolutely necessary. Frank had never been so excited to get into the air. 

She saw her first glimpse of the English Channel during take off, flying forward into the wind before looping around over the water. Her flight path had her hugging the coast, but so far above the Channel had her pausing, taking a few moments longer to enjoy the scenery. The water was such a specific shade of teal, and from her altitude of about three-thousand feet she could see the white caps of the waves, the tides from both the Atlantic and North Sea mixing together. She was so enthralled with the English cliffs, tall grass rippling in the wind before it bled seamlessly into colorful wildflowers. It was a stark contrast to the coastal towns, which had been damaged beyond belief. The townspeople clearly suffered over the years and a quick glance out her starboard side told her just how close they were to the war and, because it was so clear, she could see far enough to catch a glimpse of the opposite coast. Frank climbed just a little higher in the sky, the wispy clouds transitioning into fluffier forms and it wasn’t long that she found herself relaxing, enjoying the opportunity to fly over the picturesque landscape. The water shimmered the higher she flew and so she drifted just a little further over the water, which she knew Dorothy would absolutely be against...so she shouldn’t have been surprised when the other shoe dropped. 

Out of the clouds, as if it were a predator on the hunt, emerged a Messerschmitt Bf 109—its menacing silhouette hovering like a bad omen. The flash of yellow was unmistakable and time seemed to stand still, the fighter plane hovering not far from her. Frank hadn’t seen an Me 109 in person, obviously she’d never flown one, but she had heard stories from the pilots in the pubs discussing the famed bird—the Luftwaffe’s backbone. Frank’s grip tightened on the controls and she braced herself for an immediate firing, assuming she was a goner. She was armed with nothing, had nothing to help her and with a ragged exhale she came to terms with her fate. She couldn’t fight it out—so she’d have to figure out how to out fly them.  

Despite her heart hammering in her chest, she lifted one hand off the controls and ran it across her chest, feeling the straps of the too big parachute. They were taught early on that the parachutes may or may not work. They were made for men, the harnesses created for the male body, and more often than not it would either fail to completely deploy, or slip off mid fall. Frank had heard countless stories of women falling to their death when trying to use the life-saving device. She tugged on the straps as tight as they would go, her eyes lifting up away from her instruments to look at the approaching plane. 

The Messerschmitt closed in, and she knew from stories and studying that the amount of firepower packed inside the fighter would be lethal. The Nazi Raiders didn’t fly unprepared. Frank attempted a swoop as the roar of the enemy aircraft flew over her, far too close for comfort, but it never fired. She tilted her head, eyes searching for the plane as it disappeared back into the clouds and it was then she knew she was absolutely fucked. 

There was no turning back now. 

Frank tried to stay calm, her eyes raking across the sky, trying to place the foreign plane, but all she found were clouds and wind. She circled around, doing her best to come down and out of the clouds, urging the Spitfire just a little faster, hoping to cross over land and to safety when the menacing silhouette appeared from behind a cloud once again. It came screaming towards her, the engines rumbling like a spring thunder and Frank dove as best she could, the plane changing altitude quickly and dramatically. 

The Me 109’s all-metal body was one of the most incredible and intimidating things Frank had ever seen, her eyes raking across the different panels, eyeing the way the sunlight seemed to catch and then bounce off as it circled back around her, swastikas proudly on display. Frank could see the coast, could make out the cliffs and she urged the plane even faster, hoping that as soon as she got back into safe airspace that the Messerschmitt would back off. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case as the enemy fighter rolled around her, nearly causing her heart to stop altogether. 

Frank slammed the controls, the Spitfire banking left as she hurried to move out of the way before they collided mid-air. The Nazi plane didn’t immediately fire on her, and Frank thanked everyone above and below for that. In terms of speed, she wouldn’t win, a Messerschmitt against a Spitfire would always result in the Spitfire losing. She had the disadvantage, she couldn’t fly as fast and she couldn’t dive nor roll, the plane far too heavy for quick maneuvers at high speeds, and while the Me 109 may not have been developed for extended rolls, it sure as hell could dive. Which is exactly what it did directly to her port side a moment later. 

The enemy plane played this cat and mouse game with her for several long minutes and it took every bit of that time for Frank to realize they were trying to scare her. They knew she wasn’t armed, she didn’t know how they did, but she could tell. There was no way they would have let her stay up this long if they thought they were in any real danger. So when the German fighter slowed its speed, Frank only felt her stomach sink. 

The Me 109 moved into position behind her and with one deep inhale, Frank climbed. She may not be able to outfly the Messerschmitt in a straight line, and she couldn’t dive or roll with the best of them, but if there was one thing the Spitfire could do it was climb. She flew just under ten-thousand feet, scrambling to latch on her mask before she moved even further up. Oxygen filled her lungs and Frank made the turn towards the coast. She needed to cross into more familiar air space and she needed to have a clear landing path in the event this went badly. She was just above twelve-thousand when the first bullet went off and Frank worried flying higher was the wrong decision. 

The two planes danced through the sky, dipping and diving through the clouds as more bullets whizzed past the Spitfire and as the cliffs came into view Frank pressed the back of her head against her seat, breathing heavily as she tried to out maneuver the Me 109. More bullets from the fighter behind her flew by, the haunting sound of artillery leaving the aircraft echoing all around and just as she crossed fully over land did everything stop. 

The Nazi fighter diverted before crossing over land, obviously not wanting to be anywhere near enemy territory, and the Messerschmitt disappeared as quickly as it came, the silver bodied plane fading into the gray sky. If it hadn’t been for her rapidly beating heart, the tears streaking down her cheeks, and the bubbling in her stomach, Frank may have wondered if she imagined it all. She gripped the yoke hard enough she started to lose feeling in her fingers, her little and index going just a little numb and it wasn’t until Frank was back in familiar airspace at her suggested altitude that she could let herself relax just a bit. She could feel tears continuing to spike at the corners of her eyes, her heart still very much hammering in her chest to the point she worried it might burst through her ribcage completely.

While Frank had enough time in the two hours it took to get to Thorpe Abbotts to calm her racing heart, she hadn’t been successful. The Messerschmitt had been far too close for comfort and she found herself in a weird state of adrenaline and anxiety, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure it wasn’t still there. All she wanted to do was land and either throw up or cry, but regardless, she knew she was done in the air for the day. She started the descent down, she wasn’t too far out from the airfield and waited until the very last second to radio into the tower, knowing that as soon as her voice came over, there would be conversation. Especially if the tower knew something she didn’t.

“Tower, this is Spitfire Alpha Tango Alpha One-Five, approaching from the south at about 3,000 feet. Requesting permission to land, over.”

The silence was brief, but enough and Frank flipped off her com before exhaling roughly, begging herself to hold it together and get through this refueling. Static crackled back, “Spitfire, tower—you are cleared to land on runway two. Wind is about 270 degrees at 10 knots. Altimeter setting 29.92. Report when on final, over.”

“Roger, runway two, altimeter set. Will report on final, over.”

It wasn’t but a handful of minutes before she could see the airfield come into view. The clouds were thick, but not enough that she’d be landing blind and Frank thanked everything she could think of that this was the case. She wasn’t sure her nerves could handle a blind landing, even in a plane as small as a fighter. 

“Tower—Spitfire. On final approach for runway two, over.”

“Roger, cleared to land. Over.”

The landing was rougher than Frank would’ve liked, and she winced at how hard she slammed the plane into the ground. The landing gear squealed back at her unhappily, and she knew there would be smoke coming off the tires. Taxiing the smaller plane didn’t take nearly as long as the bombers, and Frank easily found the designated spot, flipping her com back on briefly, “Tower, Spitfire clear of runway, over.”

“Spitfire, thank you. Welcome back to Thorpe Abbotts, Captain Frank. Tower out.”

Frank didn’t bother responding as she powered down the aircraft, the propeller whistling in the wind as it finally got the rest it deserved. She slipped her mask off fairly quickly, fingers gliding along her instruments and when she was finished, she slid the cockpit open. The trucks were already well on their way towards her by the time she unbuckled and slipped from the cockpit. She climbed out and onto the wing, eyes trained firmly on the ground, making sure she didn’t miss her landing and fall into a heap on the tarmac. 

Her knees screamed at her from the jump, but she pushed through the pain, pilot bag dropping onto the tarmac as she inhaled deeply. She ignored the engines coming towards her and instead focused on not vomiting. Her stomach was incredibly unsettled and Frank was pretty sure if she had to move she wasn’t going to be successful in keeping it down. Tears stung the back of her eyes and as the open air jeep came to a stop a handful of feet away did she glance up from her shoes. 

She expected to see someone else, she didn’t think he’d want to greet her on the tarmac when he hadn’t called after he said he would, but as soon as that fucking sheepskin jacket came into view she knew it was him. Both boots were out of the truck and on the ground when she felt her temperature spike, and in a last ditch effort to try to maintain her attempt at not throwing up and embarrassing herself, did she slip her gloves off. The leather landed on the tarmac and her fingers shook as she unbuckled her harness, metal clanging to the ground before she reached for the zipper of her own jacket, tugging it down until she could shrug it off—the article of clothing landing in a heap behind her. It felt better, the slight breeze helped cool her soaked jumpsuit, but it wasn’t enough and as Bucky crossed the distance between the truck and her quickly, she held her hand out, shaking her head as he called her name. 

“No—one sec…”

“What—”

Frank stumbled to the grass before she vomited, hands resting on her knees as everything she consumed that morning came up. It stung her throat and nose and more tears came to her eyes as her entire body convulsed. Her ribs were sore, hair falling out of the bun at the base of her neck and she coughed a few times before the stomach acid came up. She gasped and sputtered and she felt two hands slide across her back, “easy. Deep breath—try to calm down. It’ll pass.” Bucky’s large hand rested on the back of her neck, stroking the warm skin softly and Frank let out a strangled sob, squeezing her eyes closed as the acid burned her already raw throat. “In through your nose, deep breaths.”

By the time Frank’s body stopped convulsing, her stomach allowed her to stand up straight. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her jumpsuit and was vaguely aware of the boys refueling the Spitfire, a few holding the hose while one rested on the wing, but when she glanced up she only saw Bucky. He hovered over her, eyes cloudy with a frown across his face. He looked the same, aside from a thin scratch that trailed from his hairline to his temple, and Frank wasn’t sure if she wanted to hug him or yell at him first. However, she wasn’t able to do either as her body entered that delayed shock phase, hands shaking and teeth chattering. 

“What happened?” His hands moved to her shoulders, pulling her towards him, not at all caring who was watching them both on or off the tarmac, “we weren’t even expecting you until next week…”

Frank shook her head, but found it too hard to form words and all she could do was lean her head against his solid chest, forehead pressed to his sternum. She inhaled deeply—she hadn’t been around him enough to know what he normally smelled like, but she could pick up on smoke and the sandalwood in his aftershave. Bucky gently looped his arms around her, hands flat on her back as she rested against him. It was out of character for her—she wasn’t one to openly show this kind of affection in a formal setting, especially when they were both in uniform and actively working, but it was either press into him or fall into a puddle on the ground. So she went with the hug.

“Where’d you come in from?” Bucky asked her after a few minutes went by with her just breathing into his chest, eyes lifting to take in the Supermarine Spitfire. 

“Shoreham.”

She felt Bucky stiffen before she even finished her answer, she felt his fingers dig into her back just a little more and she could feel and hear the ragged breath he inhaled, “you better start talkin’, Frank.”

“Needed a ferry,” Frank couldn’t form complete sentences right now and even if she could, she knew Bucky would prefer the bullet points, “Shoreham to Winfield, with a stop for fuel. They’re expecting me in a few hours.”

“Nah—I don’t think so,” she felt Bucky hold her closer, “you’re not going anywhere. There’s no way you’d be cleared to fly right now if I put you into medical.”

“I have to—”

“Calm down,” Bucky finished for her, “you’re not gonna do anything but calm down.”

Frank inhaled deeply and Bucky rocked her gently. They didn’t speak and Frank only kept her eyes closed, focusing on matching her heart beat to his, trying to fill her senses with the smell of him and not the fear she experienced in the air. She could feel Bucky’s arms around her, could feel the way he held her both gently and firmly at the same time, and she was just about ready to label it something she’d been thinking about all day when his entire body went rigid. She could feel his heart quicken, could feel the air catch in his throat and just as she lifted her head to look up at him did he slowly release her. 

His focus was on the plane and not on her and Frank turned to watch him walk around her, hand running across his mouth as he approached the tail of the plane. He was tall, much taller than she was, so when his hand lifted he was able to reach the tail, index and middle finger slowly running across a very small bullet shaped hole in the tail of her plane. His hand dropped a moment later, both hands resting on his hips before he turned to look at her. 

“Tell me this was already here.”

Frank couldn’t help but shake her head, watching him move back towards her, his strong arms fully wrapping around her, dark blue eyes staring down into her own, waiting for an explanation. “We’re running ferries for the fighters now,” Frank said, not at all caring that she could barely keep her head up, resting it completely against his chest, “first one—trying to get them to other bases and the ATA finally opened up the airspace along the coast.”

“Of course you’d get the first flight,” Bucky pressed his mouth to her hairline, exhaling slowly, “of course you would.”

“I volunteered.”

Bucky moved away quickly, eyes filled with more questions than she wanted to answer, one of his hands lifting to cup the side of her face, “you what?”

“You didn’t call.”

Bucky shook his head, eyes searching hers with what she was pretty sure was disbelief, “you…volunteered for this?”

“Dorothy offered it,” Frank said, her body slowly starting to calm down from shaking, but she couldn't stop the tremor than ran through her stomach and up to her shoulders, “she gave me a heads up about it earlier this week and then asked if I wanted to refuel here.”

“Because…” Bucky ran his hands down her arms, squeezing her elbows as he blinked at her owlishly, “because I didn’t call you volunteered for…that?”

Frank shrugged with one shoulder and Bucky released her, hands running through his hair as he stared at her in both shock and confusion, curiosity and admiration. His eyes raked over her, taking in her disheveled appearance and state of dress before he crossed the few steps back to her, one arm wrapping completely around her before he cupped her jaw, tilted her head back, and kissed her hard. 

Frank scrambled to grip his arms, fingers digging into the material of his jacket as he tilted her head further. He deepened the kiss almost immediately, demanding another from her just as urgently and Frank only managed to keep up, her lungs yelling at her for oxygen, but she refused to yield, her arm moving to wrap around his neck. Their teeth clinked together as Bucky urged her closer and Frank had to pull away when she felt spots cross her vision, head tossed back to gulp in air as he kissed her neck and jaw, fingers digging into her hips and back. It wasn’t until then that Frank remembered she threw up, hands moving to press to his chest to try to push him off, “no—you shouldn’t have, I just—”

“I don’t care,” Bucky kissed her quickly, forehead pressing to hers, “I don’t fuckin’ care, the fact that you’re standing here is all that I care about.”

“Are you ok?” Frank ran her hand across the side of his face, fingers lightly stroking the side of his head where his cut was, “I thought…when you didn’t…”

“We were gone longer,” Bucky shook his head, “got back late, I didn’t want to wake you up if you’d already gone to sleep. We had to divert and come back a weird way—some of our guys had hard landings and we needed to see it through before coming back to base. I would have called yesterday, but I was in debriefings and meetings until well after dark—my boys fly in tomorrow and I’m scrambling to find equipment…then when I did try to call an hour ago you weren’t around.”

Frank laughed, despite the situation not being all that funny, “no—I was playing tag with a Messerschmitt off the coast over the English Channel.”

“Fuck,” Bucky shook his head, eyes searching her face, looking for anything that might be out of place, “I gotta get you into interrogation, the sooner we get it over with the faster I can get you alone.”

“I have to fly this to—”

Bucky shook his head, arm wrapping around her shoulders so it dangled off her neck, escorting her back to the jeep, “you’re not flyin’ anywhere, anytime soon, doll. Interrogation, medical, and then we’re gonna talk.”

“What are we talking about?” Frank felt him reach around her for the passenger door, hand running down her damp back as he helped her in before closing it. 

Leaning against it, he pressed a slow kiss to her lips, his nose brushing hers before he whispered, “us.”

Notes:

WHEW! 6,000 words!

I hope you all enjoyed our battle in the air! (and that you didn't find too many inaccuracies 🤣) I can't wait to read your thoughts! What do we think is going to happen next?!

—

Also, come join our Masters of the Air chats if you’re on tumblr!

Chapter 10: X

X.

Corporal David Wolman ran a hand across his forehead, a half empty cup of coffee off to the side of his desk, pencil scratching monotonously against the piece of paper as he finished scribbling the wind speed and temperature. He drummed the eraser against the desk, eyes lifting to the sky when a crackling static echoed against his ear, the uncomfortable headset squeezing his head roughly before a slightly familiar voice came through, “Tower, this is Spitfire Alpha Tango Alpha One-Five, approaching from the south at about 3,000 feet. Requesting permission to land, over.”

Corporal Wolman’s eyes lifted to the window in front of him, eyes squinting out the southern window of the control tower, flickering across the partly cloudy sky for any indication of a plane in the sky. They weren’t expecting anyone—and they sure as hell weren’t expecting any ATA ferries. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that the Major he was looking for wasn’t even in the tower. He didn’t know much about either the Major nor the ATA Captain, but he’d heard rumblings over the last few meals about the stunning brunette Bucky had spent the entire evening dancing with. 

Wolman pushed himself away from the desk, chair rattling across the floor as he reached for a nearby clipboard, flipping through the papers for any indication of what was happening, but he came up empty. He tugged on the left ear of his headset as he turned to the left, hollering out, “Get me Major Egan!”

One of the newer cadets took off running, unsure of what the emergency was, a few other air traffic controllers glanced his way as he flicked the button to talk back to her, “Spitfire, tower—you are cleared to land on runway two. Wind is about 270 degrees at 10 knots. Altimeter setting 29.92. Report when on final, over.”

Bucky must’ve been nearby, as the fully dressed Major entered the tower easily, beloved sheepskin jacket over his shoulders as he made his way over towards his station, “What’s goin’ on, Dave?”

Wolman unplugged the headset before a familiar voice echoed around the room, “Roger, runway two, altimeter set. Will report on final, over.”

Bucky’s heart stopped and he couldn’t help but inhale sharply as he leaned over the desk, hands flat on the surface as he ducked his head to look out the window, eyes searching the sky ahead, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He had Frank’s schedule memorized, he knew she wasn’t coming back until next week—so why the hell was she flying a fighter into his station? He glanced around for paperwork, his heart skipping a beat as he tried to make sense of what was happening, trying to find the logical explanation to keep himself from fully panicking.

“She wasn’t scheduled,” Wolman shook his head once he realized what Bucky was looking for. 

“Where’s she coming from?” Bucky’s frown only deepened. 

“South.”

“The…fuck…?” Bucky whispered more to himself than to anyone else, one hand resting on the table as he stared out the window. It took several more minutes before he caught the first glimpse of the propeller, Captain Stella Frank slowly making her descent out of the clouds.

“Tower—Spitfire. On final approach for runway two, over.”

“Roger, cleared to land. Over.”

Bucky lifted a hand towards Wolman before he moved quickly around the desks and chairs, pushing open the door that led out onto the viewing deck. He didn’t need binoculars to see her, the Supermarine Spitfire coming in hot towards runway two. He took the stairs two at a time, biting his tongue as he kept his focus on the sky, eyes running across the plane to make sure she was landing ok. She had both wings and landing gear and the fact that nothing was on fire eased just a little bit of the anxiety he felt in his stomach. 

He reached the jeep quickly, hopping in and starting it up before the door was even closed, lifting a hand towards one of the members of the ground crew who was also moving towards a truck, a few men scrambling in the passenger and back seats. Bucky tore off down the runway, watching as she brought the fighter down, wheels slamming into the tarmac hard enough he knew her head had to have knocked back—smoke hovering in the air like a prayer as she finished her landing, taxiing into the designated spot, a few other men waving her in. Bucky watched the Spitfire power down, watched the cockpit slide open before she scrambled out. 

He could tell something was wrong as soon as she hit the ground, the way she paused—the way her hands rested on her knees. Her bag at her feet, hair a mess, even from his spot halfway down the runway he could see her hair falling from its pins. He hoped she would settle, hoped that she would gather herself and turn to him, ready to give him that smile that made his toes numb, but to his horror she only threw her gloves and harness off—jacket landing in a pile behind her. 

Bucky wasn’t even sure he had the jeep in park before he launched himself out of the truck, his brain urging him closer, warning bells going off in his head at the way she stood, the way she stumbled. Something was wrong—something was very wrong and he could feel his heart rate increase, sweat spiking the back of his own neck. He tried to look her over, tried to take in every part of her all at the same time to make sure she was physically ok, but he was far too shaken, far too concerned. 

“Stella!” He crossed the tarmac quickly, boots slapping as he hurried towards her, seeing how pale her face was as she stumbled towards the grass, but his girl only shook her head, bending over before she threw a hand back at him in a weak attempt to stop him from coming any closer. As if Hitler himself could keep him from her.

“No—one sec…”

“What—”

Frank vomited into the grass and he crossed the remaining feet to her, hands running across her shoulders and back, feeling just how damp her jumpsuit was, the way the strands of hair clung to the back of her wet neck, curling from the perspiration. Her entire body heaved as she sputtered and Bucky recognized the panic in her cry, his hands running up to move some of her hair off her neck, trying to cool her down so he could calm her down, “Easy. Deep breath—try to calm down. It’ll pass.” His heart continued to thunder against his rib cage, fingers gently squeezing her shoulders as she slowly, stubbornly so, started to calm down, breathing deeply, “In through your nose, deep breaths.”

Frank moved into shock quickly, Bucky having already expected it, so when she stumbled on her feet, hands and arms shaking, teeth chattering he reached for her easily, hands running along her shoulders and down her arms, searching her stricken face. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown and he knew from experience she was going through the worst of an adrenaline rush, tremors running through her body. He tried to talk to her, tried to bring her back into the present and into him, but Frank wasn’t entirely coherent, her eyes shifting too much, her sentences short, and when she all but fell into his arms he couldn’t help but wrap them around her, holding her closely as she gathered herself.

The feel of her in his arms was something he never wanted to forget. The way she fit perfectly under his chin, the way she tried to match her breathing to his as he intentionally inhaled and exhaled slowly and deeply. She was smaller and shorter than he was, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her close, wanting to keep this gorgeous creature safe as long as he could. He knew he was in deep—knew he was fucked and he fully expected the biggest ribbing ever seen from his boys and Buck. He left the states with the taste of another woman on his lips, craving as many as he could find in the UK, and now his dreams were filled with just one—the quick-witted, sharp ATA pilot he met his first week here. God—he couldn’t get her out of his head, she occupied more of his thoughts than he would ever admit, and as she nuzzled closer into him, inhaling deeply, he knew he was a goner. She could rip his heart out, stomp on it, and set it on fire and he’d still tell her thank you.

They conversed lowly for a while, Bucky trying to get the gist of what happened and the next several minutes were a blur of emotion when he realized what happened, where she’d been, and what she’d gone through. His heart stopped at least three times—once when she told him where she flew in from, once when he saw the bullet hole, and once when she told him she volunteered because he didn’t fucking call.

He was a moron, an absolute dumbass and he could only hold her tighter, kiss her harder, whisper softer. He knew Frank struggled—even if he hadn’t already suspected it before their evening in the hallway when she hadn’t let him touch her, he sure as hell knew now. And as he kissed her with everything he had, that bullet hole burned into his brain, he knew he’d fix it. He’d fix her—he’d give her whatever she asked for and more, as long as she kissed him like that.

He managed to get her into the truck, despite everything inside of him not wanting him to let her go, to take her away and keep her safe, and once he was sure she was safe inside he gathered her things, shoving her clothes inside the canvas bag before he tossed it into the back, her own leather jacket landing on top. He climbed in easily, not even paying attention to the crew working on her plane, the same ones who looked over at them curiously with tinted cheeks. 

Bucky didn’t even bother hiding anything, his hand running over her thigh and staying there, needing her to know he was there and when she rested a still slightly shaking hand over the top of his he couldn’t help but squeeze her leg, thumb brushing across in what he hoped was a comforting way. 

They didn’t talk, he knew she didn’t want to, the brunette leaning back tiredly, shoulders slumping and just briefly he considered taking her straight to medical to get checked out, but he knew that wasn’t protocol. She was conscious and talking, could walk and move, wasn’t bleeding profusely, so her first stop was the debrief. The hut was quiet and empty, memories of the last mission briefly filling his brain as he remembered being escorted in, shot glass all but thrusted into his hand, liquor burning his throat when he threw it back. He’d been too drunk that night to call Frank, too embarrassed about the state he found himself in to talk to her. Things were fragile—or at least they had been up until twenty minutes ago, and he didn’t want to give off the wrong impression, didn’t want to scare her off. Didn’t want her to see that side of him. 

He pulled up in front of the hut, hopping out of the car as she fumbled with the door, Bucky cursing himself for grabbing the one truck that still had side doors. He hooked an arm around her, not at all caring who saw. He knew it was the right call when she leaned into him, his free hand reaching behind him to grab her jacket, material dangling as they walked into the hut. Just in case she got cold. 

It was bare bones inside the hut today—only two of the red cross workers seated off to the side by a long table. “Major Egan…”

“Helen, hi,” he ran his hand down Frank’s arm, directing her further in as one of the girls hurried to stand, fumbling for the coffee they had off to the side, “nah—she’s good. I just gotta get her in there—can one of you grab the doc for me? If you don’t mind?”

They nodded and Bucky led her into the room, hand releasing her elbow before it glided along her hip and back. He walked her to a table, one of the commanding officers hurrying to grab his notebook and writing utensil. Bucky pulled one of the chairs out from under the round table, hands moving to her shoulders when she took a seat, squeezing them soothingly. Frank started her story slowly, explaining her arrival to Shoreham via train and her take off over the English Channel and he could feel her tense as she recalled the details and events up in the air with the Messerschmitt, Bucky doing his best to not squeeze her shoulders too hard when she explained what happened. 

The truth was he was scared shitless—his heart squeezing as she described her dogfight over the channel, even just the thought of her being within firing range of the Nazis had him feeling a certain type of way, wanting to wrap her in his arms and keep her safe, tuck her away until this entire war was over. But he knew she wouldn’t want that—he knew she was meant for more. Destined for more. It was one of the things that drew him to her—her passion and drive forcing him to loosen his grip just a little on her shoulders, thumbs swiping the back of her neck in what he hoped was a soothing way. 

Frank’s story didn’t take too long and the officer promised to type up the report and get it back to Dorothy as soon as he could, explaining that the ATA would need it to further evaluate their decision to start ferrying fighters and he could tell when Frank’s mind wandered, her head tilting back into his hands and he only bit his lip, hiding his grin as she leaned into his touch. Thankfully they finished up Frank’s debrief by the time the doctor arrived, hurrying into the room in his white coat and after checking over Frank and making sure she knew where she was and who she was, agreed that she was sound enough that she didn’t need to stay in the infirmary overnight. 

Doctor James glanced over at Bucky, the Major hovering off to the side of the chair Frank sat on, hands in the pockets of his sheepskin jacket before looking back at Frank, “I don’t think the hospital is necessary—but you are in shock, I can see it across your face and your heart rate is still quite fast. I’m going to ground you for the evening and we’ll reevaluate in the morning.”

“I’m expected in Scotland—”

“Yes, that’s between your CO and the ATA,” the doctor shook his head, “putting you back in a plane tonight could be detrimental to your health—you’ll have to stay here.” His eyes flickered behind her to Bucky, “Which I’m sure isn’t the worst news you’ve received today.”

Frank’s cheeks flared red and Bucky only chuckled softly behind her, hand running through his hair, “Thanks, doc.”

“Rest,” Doctor James gave Frank a look before echoing it back to Bucky, “rest, rest, rest. Calm your heart rate, have a drink. We’ll reevaluate in the morning, alright?”

“Thank you,” Frank nodded and neither of them moved until he left the hut, Frank turning to look at him. She looked exhausted—every bit of her worn out, as if she’d been through hell and back and, in a way, she had.

Crossing the space between them he squatted down so he was closer to her, hands sliding across her knees, searching her face as his eyes hovered just briefly on the mole above her upper lip—the one he so desperately wanted to kiss right now. “Let’s get you some new clothes.”

“This is all I have, I think,” Frank drug her fingers through her hair, fingers finding the pins along her scalp before she pulled them out, untangling her curls as they fell over her shoulders in disheveled waves, “unless you have a collection of women’s clothing.”

“Just panties, I’m afraid.” Bucky grinned when she patted his cheek playfully, but firmly, leaning forward to press her forehead to his. 

“You better be joking, Major.”

Bucky breathed a small laugh, happy that she was coming back to him, glad to see her slowly coming out of the shock of the day, “I guess you’ll just have to find out, Captain.” She kissed him quickly and he couldn’t help but be a little surprised, albeit thrilled that she initiated the kiss, noses brushing against one another as he savored her kiss. “I think Helen can help us out,” Bucky stood to his feet, towering over her as he reached for her hands, fingers lacing together as he pulled her up and into his arms for a brief embrace, tucking her into his side as they walked back towards the front of the hut, through the door that divided the spaces, “I’m sure they’ve got something here.”

---

Frank slipped out of the truck just as it slowed to a stop in front of the pub about forty minutes later. Bucky wasn’t too far behind her, and briefly, as she took in the area around her, she heard him tell the driver that he didn’t need to wait. The jeep drove off a moment or two later and Frank looked over at Bucky to find him already staring at her. “C’mon,” he nodded towards the pub, the one he told her about a few days ago, the one he preferred to visit, “let’s get you settled and I’ll buy you a drink.” 

Frank went with him easily, taking comfort in the way his hand felt on the small of her back as he guided her into the pub. It was cozy and roomy all at the same time, and despite it being towards the start of summer, the lit fireplace helped take the slight chill out of the damp air. Tables were taken up by various men in uniform, with a few Red Cross workers mixed in, while it appeared the counter and high top tables were reserved for the locals. A game of darts was happening in the back, a few handfuls of men joking around as they took turns trying to hit the bullseye, laughing when they were close and swearing when they hit the wooden frame off to the side. 

Bucky led her through the pub towards the bar and his hand stayed firmly on her back, even when they came to a stop off to the side. “You’re the first to arrive, Bucky!” An older woman hollered to him from the opposite end, “The usual?” 

“No,” Bucky shook his head, “she needs a room for the night. Got any available?”

The woman finished pouring the two pints in front of her before slinging them over to a waiting pair of pilots, the RAF markings on their uniforms unmistakable. “I got a room,” she turned to grab onto a key dangling from the wall, a handful of other keys nearby, “it’s even got a bathroom attached.” 

“Didn’t realize this was Buckingham Palace all of a sudden,” Bucky grinned back at her and the woman only rolled her eyes as she slid the key across the bar, “thank you, Anne.” 

“Mhmm.” Anne glanced over at Frank, her eyes flickering between the two, not at all missing the way Bucky had almost wound his arm around her now that they were sandwiched between two other patrons, “Behave. This ain’t a brothel.” 

Bucky laughed and Frank felt her cheeks warm, shaking her head as she attempted to explain it wasn’t for them and just for her but the woman called Anne either didn’t listen or didn’t care and only managed to shoot Bucky another look over her shoulder before she moved to greet another customer. 

Bucky moved them again, this time weaving his way around tables as he walked towards the back of the pub and a staircase came into view that Frank didn’t notice before. “I’ll wait here,” Bucky seemed to understand her hesitation as he held the key out for her, watching as Frank reached for it. 

Frank took the key, but Bucky held his grip on the other end, gently pulling her towards him and Frank let him steal a kiss, their lips just barely ghosting across the other. “I’ll be right back,” Frank whispered, eyes opening to look into his own, “don’t wander off.” 

Bucky grinned, releasing the key and Frank felt his eyes on her the entire way up the creaky staircase. The hallways were narrow, doors scattered on either side, but eventually Frank found her room, the brass number 8 tacked up along the upper middle portion of the crimson door, which was in need of another coat of paint, little chips broken off along the edges. The room itself was modest, a double bed and two mismatched nightstands on either side. A lamp rested on one nightstand and Frank made quick work of turning it on. The lamp basked the room in a warm glow, and Frank gently placed her bag down on the wooden dresser opposite the bed. Another lamp sat in the corner behind a worn looking armchair, a few framed photos nailed to the wall around it. The thick curtains were drawn and as Frank stepped forward to take a peek out the window she noticed the open door off to the side of the dresser.  

A standard bathroom, Frank was just happy she wouldn’t have to share. She didn’t linger in the room, leaving her bag behind before she closed and locked the door, slipping the key into her pocket before she made her way back down the stairs. The pub was still lively, and she could see a different group of men hovering around the dart board now, goading and teasing one another, fingers wrapped around pint handles.  She found Bucky not too far away, tucked into a corner of the pub she hadn’t seen yet, a flag pinned to the stone wall hung high above his head. 

“How’s the room?” 

“Fine—nice,” Frank moved to take the seat across from him but Bucky reached for her elbow and instead guided her to the open bench seat beside him, arm curling around her shoulders as she settled into his side. “I don’t want to get you into trouble.” 

“Anne’s just messing around,” Bucky assured her, his nose brushing along hers, “no one cares how close we sit.” 

“I’m sure someone cares.” Frank felt him press another light kiss to her lower lip, “someone always cares.” 

“Mm,” Bucky’s free hand lifted to rest along her chin, thumb stroking her jaw, “not here. I promise.” 

Frank let Bucky kiss her twice more, her hand just barely resting on his thigh before they were interrupted as a woman set down two pints in front of them after Anne asked her if she wouldn’t mind delivering them for her. “Thanks, Lil,” Bucky leaned back, cooling down the charged atmosphere that had developed around them during their last kiss.

The woman named Lil didn’t say anything before walking away and Frank glanced at him curiously as she reached for one of the two glasses. “You were saying…?” 

Bucky laughed, picking up the other glass before taking a healthy sip from it, “That was a one night thing, right after I got here. Had a lot to drink, shared a lot of kisses, and then I went back to my hut. Met you two days later.” 

Frank hummed as she sipped her beer, the familiar taste of alcohol taking over her taste buds as she watched Bucky relax into the space beside her. His arm still rested behind her, fingers dangling off the back of the bench seat, and every so often he brushed his thumb along her upper arm. “Tell me about home.” 

Bucky glanced over at her as he swallowed another mouthful of beer, “Not much to tell. From Manitowoc, Wisconsin. Went to college in St. Paul, and I enlisted before Pearl Harbor.” 

“Family?” 

Bucky shook his head, “They’re in Manitowoc.” 

Frank wanted to ask more questions, but she knew enough about Bucky that if wanted to talk about it, he would have. His dark blue eyes stared back into her own and he gently placed his glass back on the table, “If you’re trying to ask me if I have a girl back home, that’s all you gotta say, Captain.” 

Frank scoffed and moved to shift away from him but he reached for her, pulling her closer than she originally sat, “I don’t think it’s such a crazy thought—a lot of men have girls back home…fiancées, wives, even.” 

“A lot men also don’t have the pleasure of regularly flirting with a smart girl who flies big planes,” Frank let him steal another kiss, but she pulled away before he could deepen it. “I have no one in the states. I’m a lone wolf.” 

“I don’t understand how,” Frank whispered as she let Bucky come closer, their lips almost touching, “you’re a Major in the air forces, you went to school, you enlisted before Pearl Harbor…”

“I also drink a little too much and flirt a little too much,” Bucky’s voice dropped, “and I’m usually gone not long after the sun comes up. What about you?” 

“Well—I normally find myself with men who do have someone back home. So it’s typically a drunken fumble or a one night thing—“

“I meant do you have anyone at home,” Bucky’s eyes crinkled in amusement and Frank only shrugged, as a bit of embarrassment wafting over her. 

“This is home,” Frank could still feel the embarrassment and it only seemed to thicken with her statement, it was something she didn’t share often, and definitely not with random men who were trying to take her to bed, “Ratcliffe—with Dorothy. And sometimes Rose and Amelia if they’re not annoying me…”

Bucky smiled and Frank would remember it in the hard months and years to come, the way it sat easily on his face, his eyes soft, looking at her in a way she would dissect late at night, holding on to it knowing that if they made it through this war, she’d give anything to see it again. He nuzzled his nose along hers, hand gently gliding across the skirt she borrowed from the Red Cross. “Where are you from?” Bucky asked, eyes searching hers, “Do you have any family back in the states?”

“Texas,” Frank said eventually, leaning back against her seat as Bucky looked at her, waiting for her to continue, “small town just outside of Fort Worth, but closer to the panhandle. I lived there almost my entire life. My parents and sisters are still there.”

“What do they think of their hot shot pilot?” Bucky asked her, reaching over to take a long sip of his beer. 

Frank hesitated, knowing there was something she needed to tell him before things got too carried away between them. She wasn’t looking for forever, and to be honest any future plans past tomorrow were irresponsible, but part of her wanted him to know, so they could either continue whatever it was that was happening, or end it now. “They don’t even know I’m here,” Frank said eventually, Bucky’s eyes snapping to hers as she ran a finger along the sweating glass, her heart rate increasing, “I’m not even sure they know I know how to fly.”

“Sounds like an interesting story,” Bucky’s hand slipped along her shoulder, stroking the back of her neck, his eyes searching her face, “you don’t gotta tell me though, it’s ok.”

Frank shook her head and he gently massaged the back of her neck, ducking his head to meet her downturned eyes, “I do though—if we’re going to talk about what’s happening here, it’s better if you know now.”

“Lay it on me,” Bucky leaned back, thumb drawing soothing circles along the back of her neck.

“I’m divorced.” 

Notes:

TEN CHAPTERS! WOW! Thank you all for reading! I can’t wait to read your thoughts on this one, and don’t worry, we won’t have to wait long for the next chapter! 😉

 

Also, come join our Masters of the Air chats if you’re on tumblr!

Chapter 11: XI

Notes:

Trigger Warning:

I don't want to spoil anything, but just know there's some heaviness ahead. Frank doesn't have a great past, and some sensitive topics will be discussed. Proceed with caution if toxic relationships, family, loss, references to sexual violence, past miscarriages, and negative viewpoints of women in the 1930s/1940s may bother or upset you. The tags of this story HAVE been updated for trigger warnings as well, please check before reading if you have concerns. As always, you're welcome to message me if you have any concerns before reading..

XI.

Bucky’s eyes searched her face for a lengthy period of time, several seconds going by as he processed her statement and Frank swallowed thickly, fingers pressing roughly into the top of the table. Glancing over at her hands, he squeezed her neck softly, “You have my attention, Captain.”

Frank snorted and Bucky winked at her before she sighed heavily, “It was…a match made by our families. He was in good standing with the town, and came from a well-known family. They have a big ranch outside of town, it was a day of celebration in my house when he proposed. My father has four daughters, he wouldn’t need to worry about me or support me, I was taken care of and would be for the rest of my life.” 

“And yet you’re here with me in Dickleburgh.” 

Frank grinned, shaking her head as she thought back to memories she hadn’t thought about in months, if not years, and she couldn’t help but feel thankful for him trying to lighten the mood. “The wedding was a big affair, everyone was invited, so many people that I’m not sure I could even tell you the amount.” 

“When did you get married?” Bucky’s eyes were unreadable, but she could see the curiosity there. 

“When I was almost eighteen.” 

“Fuck,” Bucky drew the word out and Frank nodded, sighing softly, “when did you…” 

“When I was twenty-three.” 

“That’s…” Bucky whistled softly, “that’s a long time to be married.” 

Frank laughed, “I think just about everyone else would disagree with you,” she shook her head, glancing down at her hands. “He wanted children. His family wanted children. Wanted boys. Boys to take the family name, to take over the ranch. But…in the years we were married it never happened.” Bucky shifted closer, eyes searching her face and Frank fiddled with the ring around her index finger, the gold band of her grandmother’s, a reminder of her past so she never repeated it. “It was a bad look. Women who married after me were pregnant with their second if not third, by then. It…it was a requirement. I had to get pregnant, there was no way around it. There was pressure from my family, his family, him…I remember my mother pulling me aside and asking me what was happening. What was wrong with me.” 

“Shit.” 

“When it finally happened…five years into our marriage, he told everyone right away. Just about took an ad out in the newspaper. It was a huge deal, finally I had given him a child. Finally I had done the one thing I was meant to do. I wasn’t a failure anymore…” Bucky could sense the story taking a turn, and she was grateful for the way his hand ran along her neck, thumb continuing to stroke the skin there. Frank felt a few tears sting the back of her eyes, “I lost the baby—sometime in the second month.” 

Bucky sighed heavily and Frank stared down at her lap, finding herself back in that dark time as he moved closer, tucking her under his arm he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, “I’m sorry, Stell.” 

Frank took several long moments to sort herself out, inhaling raggedly as scabbed wounds seeped, and she lifted her hand to swipe some of the tears away, “He wanted me to get pregnant right away, to try to hide the miscarriage, but it didn’t happen. The months were terrible after that, everywhere I went it was like I was a leper. He started drinking, I hated myself, and it was a bad combination. He was mean, I was mean, our house had more fights and broken glass than any other in our town, I’m sure. He was looking for a way out, trying to figure out how to blame me for not giving him children. And…one day I left the house, went to the train station, and sat there wishing for a different life. Wishing for a chance to change things. I met someone there, he was nice, stopping through on his way to California. We talked for a long time and it was nice to finally speak with someone who didn’t think I was the dirt under their shoe.” 

She felt Bucky’s long fingers glide along her arm and Frank sighed again, “I let him take me to bed. It was nice to feel wanted, to be wanted for something other than making babies. He was gone the next morning and I went back home smelling like another man. I didn’t hide it, I told my husband right away and it was ugly. Of course it was ugly—there was a lot of yelling and after all of the china we received at our wedding was smashed into the wall, he left the house and drew up divorce papers now that he finally had a legitimate reason to do so. I left town and went out to California after that, and learned to fly. Not long after, I signed up to come over here.” 

Bucky’s hand lifted to brush his thumb across her cheek and up to her ear, pulling a few stray strands behind her ear before gently turning her head to face him, but before he could say anything she continued, “I’m not telling you because I think we’re…anything, but in the event it…does, it’s better that you know and can decide if you still want to…see me.” 

Bucky laughed, eyes crinkling and Frank hadn’t been expecting that reaction at all, her eyes shooting to his as she stared at him in surprise. “Frank…I wanna see you everyday. And everything you just told me, doesn’t change that. If anything, it makes me want to see you more. I don’t call and talk to just anyone, Stell. If I scared easily, I wouldn’t have gotten involved with someone as…bold as you.”

Frank tilted her head, aware of Bucky’s thumb brushing a tear off her cheek, “So we’re involved?” 

Bucky laughed, shaking his head at her, “Yeah, doll. You sucked my cock, I’d say we’re involved.” Frank laughed, shaking her head and he smiled down at her, thumb sliding across her jawline and to her chin, gently holding it between his thumb and index finger, “In all seriousness. I am sorry. None of that was ok.” 

“I know,” Frank nodded, “and I’m glad I figured it out sooner than later. When there was still time to start over. I’m happy where I am today.” 

“Me too.” 

Frank’s eyes fluttered closed as Bucky kissed her fully, she could taste the beer on his tongue and she was sure he could taste hers as well, neither of them even caring that they shared such a passionate kiss in such a public place. It wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary to see couples close, especially in clubs or lounges, but based on the size of the town, Frank was sure there had to be someone in the pub who was uncomfortable, so she pulled away slightly, hand resting flat on Bucky’s chest as he chased her lips, trying to reconnect them. 

“Come upstairs with me,” Frank whispered softly against his mouth, Bucky groaning as she kissed his mustache, “we can talk a little more privately up there,” 

“Talk, huh?” His voice was low and husky, eyes hooded as she slipped out from under his arm, pushing herself into a standing position, “About your new missions?” 

“If you like,” Frank leaned over the table to kiss him quickly, voice dropping further, “or we can…not…talk.” 

“I like the sound of that,” Bucky pushed himself up, hand ruffling his curls as he followed her around the table and towards the staircase, glancing around to see if anyone was watching them closely, but thankfully he found no one. 

Bucky waited until they were out of view to wrap his arms around her from behind, Frank giggling as he purred how much he liked kissing her into her ear. He distracted her at the door, lips running along the shell of her ear, mustache tickling her lobe and Frank only giggled harder, pushing the door open with a sigh before she spun around in his arms, key dropping to the floor as he closed and locked the door behind him. 

Her arms looped around his neck and Bucky wrapped his around her waist, hauling her off her feet before she landed on the bed. He leaned over, hands flat on the mattress beside her head and she gently untucked and loosened his tie, their eyes gazing into the other for several long seconds. 

“We don’t have to,” Frank whispered softly, Bucky searching her eyes as she spoke, “if you—" 

Bucky broke her sentence with a kiss, right hand lifting off the bed to cup her jaw, thumb swiping along her cheekbone as he deepened it. He leaned his weight onto his left hand, slowly lowering himself until his elbow took the brunt. When they broke away, he let her remove his tie, the material falling off the bed to the carpeted floor. 

“If you don’t want to, we won’t,” Bucky whispered to her, “I’m ready when you are.” 

“I don’t think I’m as experienced as you are,” Frank whispered back, cheeks warming, “I’ve just…had sex.” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Bucky breathed against her mouth, nipping her upper lip before soothing it with a soft kiss, “but you’ve had bad sex. And I intend to change that tonight.” 

“To think I didn’t realize that was a thing,” Frank said and Bucky kissed her nose before he pushed himself off the bed. He unbuttoned his jacket before tossing it onto the dresser, he undid the buttons on his sleeves next before he went to work on the shirt buttons. Frank watched the material join his jacket, leaving him in the off-white under shirt, arms and subtle muscles on display. 

“Oh it’s a thing,” Bucky grinned at her as he undid his belt, metal clanking as it landed in a heap on the floor. His shoes and socks were kicked off next and Frank hummed as he crawled back over her, just in his trousers and under shirt now. “And if you ask me—it should be a crime. Denying such a gorgeous creature something she deserves should be punishable by death. Some other things should be too—but we don't gotta talk about that now.” 

“Death you say,” Frank sighed as he kissed her slowly, noses bumping playfully. “You think highly of yourself, Major Egan.”

“I do,” he kissed her cheek and then her chin before he nudged her head back with his nose, lips sliding along her throat, “we won’t have that problem.” 

“No?” 

“No,” his hands unbuttoned the shirt she borrowed, gently tugging it out of the skirt she wore, lips running along the newly uncovered skin of her neck and chest, Bucky leaving the buttons starting just between her breasts alone, not wanting to push her into removing her clothing just yet if she wasn’t ready, “because I’m going to kiss every inch of this body, and I’m going to worship every inch of this body. All. Night. Long.” 

Frank giggled as his hands ran down her sides, tickling her playfully to lighten the mood and she gently slipped her leg along his, using her other foot to kick off her shoes, “I’m impressed with your stamina, Major.” 

“You should be, Captain,” he grinned down at her, “hope you don’t have plans tomorrow, because I think we’ll both be sleeping in.” 

Frank’s laugh transitioned quickly into a moan as Bucky gently brought his hips down to hers, foreheads touching and she exhaled slowly, a little embarrassed for how sensitive she was to his touch. It had been several months and there was just something about the weight of a man on top of her that caused her mind to goo. “Your boys fly in tomorrow,” Frank sighed as Bucky pressed a line of kisses along the side of her neck. 

“I’ll see ‘em the next day.”

Frank laughed again, shaking her head as she gently tugged Bucky’s face off her neck, pressing her forehead to his, “you will not—you’ve been waiting weeks for them. Imagine Buck’s face if you’re not there to greet him.”

“Mmm,” Bucky kissed her upper lip and then her lower lip, “he’s got a girl—he’ll understand.”

Frank only giggled as Bucky rolled them over, the Air Exec laying on his back with her on top of him, knees resting on either side of his hips. She sat back a little, fingers just barely gliding over the soft material of his undershirt, tugging it out from the waistband of his trousers, “Something tells me he might be a little surprised.”

“He won’t be that surprised,” his hands rested on her hips before he slowly ran them along her thighs, fingers inching her skirt up just a little so it sat higher on her leg. They didn’t have any stockings for her to borrow in the hospital, so her legs were bare and very much aware of Bucky’s touch as the tips of his fingers slipped under her skirt. “He knows when beautiful women are involved that I can be…otherwise…engaged.”

Frank walked her fingers up his stomach to his chest where she found the edge of his dog tags, fingernails tracing the metal sides, “Do you…often find yourself with beautiful women?”

“Used to, but only for a night,” Bucky tilted his head to the side, watching her stare down at his dog tags, very aware of how nervous she was, “and can’t say I have much interest in anyone other than the beautiful woman on top of me.”

Frank blushed and shook her head, “You’re such a flirt, Major.”

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, craning his neck to meet her for a kiss, “What about you?” He asked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever found myself with a beautiful woman in this situation.”

He laughed, head tilting back and Frank chuckled, watching the way his Adam's apple bobbed when his neck extended, her stomach fluttering at thoughts of kissing it over and over again, “Noted—and the beautiful men?”

“I had something several months ago,” Frank found herself saying, “it wasn’t—serious, by any means. Just a recurring thing, really. Purely physical—but his plane went down and…that was the end of that.”

“Mmm,” Bucky didn’t say much else about it and she gently slipped her finger around the chain of his dog tags, tugging him up for a quick kiss.

Frank debated on her next words as she released his chain, the necklace falling back to rest along his chest. He tilted his head, eyes searching hers as she slowly let her hand trail down his stomach before lifting it off his torso altogether. Bucky didn’t move and instead watched her, enjoying the comfortable silence as he played with the hem of her skirt. He rolled his head to the opposite side, eyes following her hand as she slowly finished unbuttoning her blouse, and he couldn’t help but feel his mouth go a bit dry when the final button between her breasts gave way. Frank rolled her shoulders back, tugging the material down her arms before she tossed it somewhere behind her. 

Buckley lifted one of his hands off her thighs, high enough he could brush her hair over her shoulder and it wasn’t until he brought her down for a passionate kiss, hand on the back of her neck that she whispered. “I like you.”  

“Yeah?” Bucky whispered into her mouth, exhaling through his nose as he stole another kiss, groaning when she pressed firmly into him, “I was beginning to wonder.” Frank laughed into the next kiss and he grinned back at her, fingers gliding through her hair as he kissed her again. She could feel his other hand run along her bare waist and side, fingers brushing the band of her bra. “In case you hadn’t figured it out,” Bucky dropped a kiss to her shoulder, long nose nuzzling the strap, teeth grazing the fabric as he pulled it away from its spot, “I like you too.”

The strap fell off her arm and Bucky lifted his eyes to hers as he slowly drug the remaining strap off her shoulder, and when she made no move to stop him he lowered his head and kissed his way across her shoulders and neck. His tongue dipped across her collerbones before pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to her chest. His nose brushed the fabric still containing her breasts and as he pressed a line of kisses just along the edge of her bra she couldn’t help but sigh. Her body responded to his, begging her for just a little friction, so when she just barely rolled her hips into his, Bucky groaned in response. His long fingers worked the clasps of her bra and when she felt the material loosen considerably, hanging on just because their chests were pressed together now, she slowly pulled away from him. His hands slid along her sides, eyes flickering down to watch the material give away, straps sliding completely off her arms before the undergarment joined the rest of her clothes on the floor. 

Bucky lifted both of his hands to cup her face, the feel of her naked chest pressed to his not at all escaping him as he kissed her deeply. Frank inhaled sharply when he grinded up against her, her own hips rolling back to meet his again. Her skirt was just a little too form fitting for her to decide if he was hard or not, and briefly she scolded herself for not shedding that article of clothing first, thoughts drifting to what it might feel like to sit on him with just her panties on.  

Bucky’s hands drifted from her cheeks to her neck and Frank couldn’t help the barely audible moan that escaped her lips when his mouth followed the same route. He kissed her ear and neck, sucking and mouthing at the column of her throat as his hands fell over her shoulders and down her arms until his hands found hers. He laced their fingers together as he pressed a particularly wet kiss to her collarbones, and gently he brought her arms up and over his own shoulders, leaving them there before his hands settled on her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he kissed his way down her chest, her fingers scratching along the back of his neck and into his hair. 

Bucky pulled away from her chest, eyes closed as she massaged the back of his head and he all but purred her name, hands inching up her sides until they rested on her rib cage, just below her breasts. His thumbs were long enough he swiped the underside of each and Frank hummed, glancing down at the space between them as he explored the newly uncovered skin. He cupped her in each hand and, just as she had fantasized about earlier that week, she filled his palms well, his long fingers giving her a gentle squeeze. 

Frank arched into him the moment his thumb swiped across her nipple, her lips parting in a pleased sigh as he did it again and again, his dark blue eyes moving back and forth between her face and her breasts, unsure what he wanted to look at more and it wasn’t until he had rolled each of her nipples between his fingers that he chose his favorite and dropped his head. 

Bucky’s hot mouth and wet tongue felt like fire as it wrapped around her nipple, and Frank cried out in both surprise and pleasure as his teeth grazed the sides deliciously. Her fingers were firmly in his hair now, looping around the longer strands as she scratched at his scalp and he only hummed in response, his free hand massaging her other breast before his fingers tugged on the nipple. Never one to play favorites for long, Bucky quickly switched to her other breast, hand cupping the first as his tongue rolled her nipple between his teeth, swirling around the tip. His thumb played with the newly dampened nipple when Frank felt her thighs clench, her own head falling back as she moaned again. 

She had never been this turned on before—had never been this tingly and overheated before and as Bucky released her breast and buried his face between them she couldn’t help but want more. Her own hands ran down his neck and across his wide shoulders, fingers following the material of his undershirt until he seemed to understand what she was wanting, pulling away far enough that he could pull it off. He wasn’t as hairy as she expected, very light and thin tufts of hair smattered across his chest, but the contrast of his chest pressed against her breasts had her sighing happily when he wrapped his arms around her and rolled them back over. 

His arms were extended on either side of her as she looked up at him and she couldn’t at all help the way her hands ran up his arms, fingers raking over each of the flexed muscles. She traced a few of the moles along his skin until she reached his chest, fingers flattening out as she grazed his chest hair, just barely ghosting across his own nipples. 

He seemed to like the attention, easy smile falling across his face and Frank gasped when the cool metal of his dog tag landed just between her breasts and drug across her overheated skin. Bucky kissed her deeply as her hands ran down his abdomen and across his stomach and Frank had just started to lose herself in the kiss when he pulled away and climbed off of her. She sat up on her elbows, watching him shed his trousers before he turned his attention back to her. Frank wasn’t at all ashamed by the way she clenched around nothing, just staring at the disheveled man at the foot of the bed. His hair was mussed from her fingers, dog tags askew. His shorts rested low on his hips, the pilot not at all self conscious about the very noticeable bulge. 

She couldn’t help but bite down on her lower lip as his hooded eyes raked over her, approaching the bed slowly. His hands reached her ankles first, fingers gliding up her legs and across her knees before he reached the hem of her skirt. He hesitated momentarily, tugging on it to ask his silent question and Frank only responded by running her fingers along the inside zipper, pulling it down. 

Bucky had the material off and out of the way immediately, his hands resting on her knees as he stared down at her, taking in her body and state of dress like a man wandering the desert might look for water. His thumbs rolled circles along the space behind her knees and slowly he parted her legs, hands running up the backs of her thighs. Frank wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but his hands continued upward,  curving around her thighs and she could only sigh breathlessly. 

He seemed to like her reaction, eyes flickering up to hers before looking back down, the tips of his fingers sliding under the hem of her underwear. He pulled them off of her easily, and Frank could feel her cheeks flame, never having had someone look at her this intensely before. Bucky’s right hand lifted off her thigh before he ran it across her soft curls, thumb leading the way down to the space between her legs. 

Frank gasped when he parted her lips, his free hand pulling her leg away and his eyes lifted to look at her face as he brushed his knuckle along her. This was uncharted waters for Frank, and she couldn’t help but fall back, her body very aware of the long finger gliding across her as her lips parted to form an ‘O’ shape. Bucky teased and stroked and Frank tried not to fidget too much, tried not to buck her hips when he gently slipped his index finger inside her. 

His fingers were so long and thicker than hers, and as he curled it upwards, wrist twisting she couldn’t at all stop the moan that slipped from her mouth. He pumped his finger slowly, in and out, and Frank grasped the bedspread, unable to keep her back from arching anymore. 

Bucky hummed as she rocked her hips against his hand, and when he slipped a second finger in beside the first she thought she might come undone right there. He was moving so nicely, his fingers thick and feeling like absolute bliss that she hadn’t even realized he moved to his knees, the brunette gasping out in surprise when he pulled his fingers from her and slipped his tongue inside. 

Frank cried out in both pleasure and surprise, entire body arching as his long nose bumped her, inhaling deeply before he dove back in—the dehydrated man having finally found the water. His hands ran across her thighs, holding them apart when she tried to suffocate him and he couldn’t help but hum into her, lifting one hand off before he turned his attention elsewhere, fingers sliding back into her. She clenched around him hard, muscles spasming as he mouthed at her swollen clit, tongue teasing and toying to the point Frank thought she might scream, his fingers slowing each time she got close to that ledge.  

He brought her close once more, fingers slowly stroking that spongy spot inside of her, kissing her so wonderfully between her thighs that when she felt herself begin to fall, he let her, the brunette coming with a loud cry, Major John Egan happily between her legs.

Frank was a panting mess, her head tilted back as far as it could go as her entire body hummed from the intense orgasm, and when the grinning man at the edge of the bed pressed a soft kiss to her lips she couldn’t help but giggle, shaking her head as he kissed his way up her thigh, mustache tickling her bare legs and stomach. 

She felt him settle, still in his shorts and she ran her hands over his chest and shoulders, sighing as he kissed her chest and shoulders, nose nuzzling into her neck. Her legs parted and she could feel how hard he was through the material of his underwear, gasping softly as he rolled his hips into hers. He kissed her jaw and then her cheek, right hand lifting to cup her face, thumb swiping just below her bottom lip before he kissed her. It was soft and sweet and Frank tasted herself for the first time, his mustache just a little damp as he led her into a deeper kiss, his tongue swiping along hers. Frank moaned softly, hips moving against his as she tasted more of herself and Bucky hummed into her mouth, savoring both her taste and her kiss. 

She allowed her hand to slide down his chest and stomach, following the soft, wispy line of hair that ran down underneath his shorts, her fingers easily finding him as she stroked him over the damp material. Bucky groaned lowly when she squeezed and it wasn’t but a second or two later that he was off her and shimmying out of his last remaining article of clothing before he rejoined her on the bed. Her fingers wrapped around him, already familiar with the feel of him and he groaned again as he pressed his face into her neck, the groan transitioning into a low growl when her thumb swiped across his head, gathering the precum on her thumb. 

“You make me so hard,” he whispered into her ear, a whine almost coming from his lips when she squeezed him teasingly. 

“Yeah?” Frank’s thumb circled his head again and he nodded into her throat, hips pressing into her hand more as she played, “How often?”

“Every fucking day,” he groaned into her mouth, kissing her deeply with all tongue and teeth before he pulled back, biting down on her lower lip before he pulled it with him when they parted, Frank stroking him languidly, “especially when you flirt with me.”

Frank giggled, “I like when you call me.”

“Mmm,” Bucky kissed her again, “I’ll call you every day—whatever you want. It’s yours.”

“Careful, Major,” Frank grinned, dodging his kiss as he went in for another, “those are famous last words, I’m sure.”

Bucky grabbed her jaw when she avoided his kiss again, their lips meeting for a heated and slightly frantic kiss, his thumb smoothing the line between her ear and her chin, “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” Frank breathed into his mouth, her heart squeezing at never having said those words before, part of her panicking just briefly at admitting them. 

“You’ve got me,” Bucky promised her, nose running along hers, “literally—you’ve got one hand wrapped around my cock.”

Frank laughed, squeezing him for emphasis and Bucky only grunted back at her, his larger hand wrapping around hers before pulling it off, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. Frank ran the tips of her fingers along his cheek as he pressed his forehead back to hers, the teasing note fading off as they breathed each other in, noses brushing every so often. “Let me make love to you,” he whispered against her lips, eyes hooded as she hummed, “I’ll make you feel so good.”

“You already have,” her reply was soft, barely above a whisper but he heard it loud and clear, “and I haven’t done anything—”

“You’ve done everything,” he kissed her upper lip, “let me take care of you.”

Frank nodded shyly and he kissed her lips and then her nose before he pushed himself off of her, Frank propping herself up on her elbows as she watched him cross the carpeted room with nothing on, her head tilting as she admired the muscles in his back that flowed into his firm ass and strong thighs, her cheeks warming when he caught her staring, eyes twinkling as he crossed back over to her, the rectangular condom box in his hand that he must’ve pulled from his pants. 

“You just carry one of those around or…?”

Bucky laughed as he stood at the end of the bed, opening the box and Frank couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting down between his legs, “No, I grabbed one while you were changing.”

“From where?”

“In the drawer of the medical hut,” Bucky’s eyes snapped up to hers, catching her once again checking him out, “you want me to pose, Captain?”

“Maybe another time,” Frank pushed herself up along the bed until she reached the pillows, “so you already planned on taking me to bed?”

“Rather be prepared than not,” was Bucky’s reply, eyes glancing up at her as he stroked himself, “was hoping it’d lead to this.”

Frank watched him roll the latex on, making sure it fit properly before he climbed back onto the bed and crawled towards her. His body covered hers easily, her head resting back against the pillow as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Bucky lifted himself up with one hand, the other running down her thigh as she parted her legs, his hand sliding to where they met. She was still wet and he was still hard, and when the head of his cock ran across her folds Frank sighed, eyes meeting Bucky’s as he notched himself inside her. 

His head was thick, her body spasming and he only hummed, “gotta let me in, Stell.”

Frank nodded, relaxing her body to let him in, lips parting into a moan when he slipped in further. “Oh—”

“Fuck,” he whispered, forehead pressed to hers, “you’re so tight, doll. So tight.” He filled her so well and Frank wasn’t sure she’d ever felt this full before, her hips rocking into his as he sank further in, groaning when she fluttered all around him, squeezing him tightly. “Good?”

“Good,” Frank nodded, breathless as he kissed her quickly, “so good—really good.”

“Good,” he breathed, hips moving away from hers to pull out and when he pushed back in Frank gasped, back arching as they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Moderate at first, Frank only whispered his name when he increased the speed, nodding her approval as his hands gripped her hips, shifting to get as much leverage as he could, eyes lifting from the beautiful thing under him to the headboard when it wacked loudly against the wall. They both froze, Frank pressing her hands to her face as Bucky laughed and once they settled into a less frantic pace did Frank slip her fingers into his hair and bring him down for a passionate kiss, one that had Bucky moaning into her mouth. 

She met his thrusts well, their bodies slowly growing accustomed to the force and speed and Frank couldn’t help but nod when he adjusted the pace, her hands running down his sides to rest on his hips, grinding up into him. Bucky moved her leg, sliding her just a little higher up so his pubic bone rutted into her, her head falling back in ecstasy. He kissed her shoulders and neck, free hand moving to squeeze her breast when Frank felt herself climb to new heights. 

Everything about this was wonderful—so much better than any of her experiences in the past. No one was suffocating her, no one was hurting her or forcing her, it wasn’t super short and she wasn't too dry, he wasn’t too small or too rough—everything about it was what she pictured sex to be before she was married. As a blushing seventeen year old bride, wondering what it would be like on her wedding night, this is what she imagined. 

God—how it had been the opposite. How it had lasted less than five minutes, how awkward and cold she felt after, how…disappointed it felt to just lay there with her wedding dress bunched up to her hips, tears in her eyes from the pain, blood running down her leg as her sweaty, partially dressed new husband moved to care for himself, the ink on their marriage certificate probably still wet. 

Frank squeezed her eyes closed, forcing memories away that she hadn’t thought about in a long time, didn’t want to think about again. Not with this gorgeous man above her, giving her everything she could ever imagine. 

“I’m getting close,” he mouthed at her neck, nipping the thin skin softly as Frank moaned, “you gonna come with me, Stell?” 

Frank cried out as Bucky’s hands curved over her thigh, fingers gliding across that space between them, her hips jerking as he moved just a little harder, a little less rhythmic. “Deeper,” Frank felt herself asking, knowing that if he could just hit that spot a few more times she’d be done for, breath coming out in soft pants when he did, “fuck.” 

“Yeah we are,” he exhaled roughly as his lips moved to her ear, fingers rubbing fast circles along her swollen and sensitive clit, “c’mon baby—lead the way. Come for me.” 

Frank did, her entire body tensing up, back arching as she came all around him, fluttering and clenching as hard as she ever had, her eyes all but rolling back into her head when Bucky’s hips slammed into hers, stilling after he sputtered, coming with a groan of his own into her neck.

Frank could only hear Bucky’s pants as blood rushed to her ears, her mouth open as she inhaled as much air as she could, chest heaving despite the man on top of her resting most of his weight. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, fingers dragging up and down his arm and Bucky only kissed her neck, his hips slowly rolling into hers with each aftershock. 

Bucky whispered sweet nothings into ear that made Frank’s toes curl, hiding her face in his shoulder, his lips tracing the shell of her ear and she couldn’t keep from pulling him away, pressing her lips to his in what she hoped was a meaningful kiss—one that told him just how much she enjoyed that, enjoyed him.

Bucky seemed to catch her drift, kissing her back even deeper and when she squeezed him hard did he hiss, breaking the kiss. “Easy, Captain,” he whispered against her mouth, “I’m a delicate flower.” Frank laughed with him, their foreheads resting together and he placed a soft peck to her lips, pulling away enough he could see her face, “Good?”

“So good,” Frank traced his lips with her index finger, Bucky kissing the tip of it softly, “really good.” 

“Mmm,” Bucky kissed her slowly, “give me a few and we’ll go for great.” 

Frank laughed, shaking her head at him as he grinned down at her, eyes twinkling in a way that told her he wasn’t kidding. 

Notes:

TWO chapters in ONE day?! Originally this was ALL just one chapter, but after adding in Bucky's POV last chapter, and uh...getting a little carried away with their activities in this chapter, we were WELL OVER 9000 words, so they were split up. BUT because I already promised some heat, I couldn't just leave you all hanging.

I can't wait to read your thoughts on Bucky and Frank moving to the next level! Plus our boys arrive next chapter and I CANNOT wait for our beloved Meatball to make his first appearance. (IYKYK and if you don't, you should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here!)

Anyway, thank you all, I hope you enjoyed our 9000 words today, and I can't wait to hear (read?) from you! :)

Chapter 12: XII

XII.

Frank came to early the next morning, face pressed into the soft, cool pillow of the hotel bed. It was so much softer than her pillow and bed back at Ratcliffe and she couldn’t help but keep her eyes closed, wanting to enjoy the quiet and comfort just a little longer before reality set in. The curtains were drawn, but even in their closed position, bits of sunlight still managed to peek through the tiny gap, streaking across the carpet to the wall by the front door, little specks of dust floating in the narrow light. 

“Good morning.” Frank couldn’t help but smile into her pillow, ducking her face as she felt a warm, strong arm slide around her body before the warmth that only came from a man seeped into her as he settled against her. He ran his hand across her hip and stomach before tucking it between her side and the bed, lips and chin with a bit of stubble sliding across the back of her neck and bare shoulder, “Don’t hide that face—not after last night.”

Frank leaned into his embrace, the wisps of hair on his chest brushing against her back as she enjoyed the early morning with Bucky. “Good morning.”

Bucky kissed her shoulder again, hand flattening out around her side as he moved his lips along her shoulder until he reached her neck, long nose brushing the soft skin as he searched for her ear, “I told you we’d have another morning.”

Frank laughed, rolling onto her back as Bucky propped himself up on his arm, smiling down at her as she looked back up at him. She brought the sheets with her, both chilly and a little shy to be so exposed in the morning light. Bucky’s hand flattened along her hip, his thumb brushing soft lines across the bone as he searched her face for any hint of regret or disgust. Little did he know, she was doing the same, making sure he didn’t regret coming to bed with her last night, that he didn’t regret taking whatever it was between them to the next level after hearing about her past. “I’m glad we do,” Frank lifted her hand to brush along his necklace, dog tags catching in the light before reflecting onto the headboard. Her thumb brushed the smooth rounded edge, eyes briefly catching his name which was etched into them before she looked back up into his eyes, “How long are you able to stay?”

“Not too long,” Bucky stifled a yawn, lowering his head to press a soft kiss to her hand before she slipped it over his arm, fingers trailing up the muscles of his biceps, “I’ve got to finalize some stuff before my boys land, but I’ve got some time.”

“Breakfast?”

“Might be able to convince Anne to bring us something,” Bucky hummed as her fingers ran across his shoulder, following his collarbone to his neck before she walked her fingers around to rest on the back of it, “or…” Bucky couldn’t help the slow smile that crossed his face as she gently pulled him down to her, “maybe…” their lips were so close now and Bucky happily lowered himself down to hers, brushing across hers as he spoke, “we’ll do something else…”

Frank’s eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her fully, the soft hair of his mustache brushing across her skin. Her arm slipped all the way around his neck now that he was closer to her and her free hand lifted off the bed to cup the side of his face, thumb swiping the hard line of his jaw when he deepened her kiss, tongue meeting hers moments later. Frank felt the sheet fall away from her chest when she lifted her arm, breasts exposed to both the cool air and Bucky’s chest when he slid over her and despite the shiver that ran down her arms and legs at being uncovered in the drafty room, she felt nothing but heat when his lips slid from her own to latch onto her neck. He kissed his way down to her collarbones, tongue swiping across them briefly before he moved further, hands gliding across her sides as he moved the rest of the flat sheet away, taking in her body as he sat up onto his knees, studying her in the soft morning light. 

Frank wanted to cover herself or at least turn her head and blush, but Bucky shook his head when her fingers inched towards the sheet. “Don’t even think about it,” his voice was thick and low, eyes following his hands as he ran them across her hips and then up her stomach, memorizing each of her freckles and the few moles that dotted her body, making sure that when he was alone he could recall this exact moment with her, when everything felt right. His long fingers reached the underside of her breasts not long after he began his move up her stomach and Frank couldn’t help but arch her back when he cupped her in both hands, thumbs slowly stroking her nipples before he gave her a gentle squeeze. 

Frank hummed softly, the sound not quite a moan as he gently swirled his thumb around her nipple, rolling it around as it began to harden. Frank let him play, but she could feel herself warming, could feel the heat beginning to pool in her abdomen as he brought his index finger to the party, gently pinching her nipple between the two fingers. The move itself caused her to moan, head tilting back and exposing her neck to him and Buckly only grinned in return, his other hand mimicking the motion on her other breast. His fingers turned a little rougher, testing the waters on what she liked and it wasn’t until he flicked her right nipple that Frank moaned again. 

“I see,” Bucky lowered himself back down to her, sliding between her legs as he pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to her stomach, “I’ve got you.”

“Wha—oh,” Frank’s mouth dropped when Bucky cupped her left breast and took the nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling and gliding across it before he nipped and sucked, opposite hand pinching and tugging on her free nipple, “oh my God.”

Bucky hummed, the vibrations only causing her to arch into him. He breathed heavily through his nose, tongue rolling her nipple around before he popped off and moved quickly to the other, giving it the same treatment as his left hand toyed with the other. He circled it slowly, rolling it between his fingers as he grazed her other with his teeth when her fingers slid across his scalp, body arching off the bed with another soft moan. Bucky pulled away not long after, cupping both of her breasts in his large hands before kissing them each, nuzzling the soft skin, thumbs swiping across her damp nipples just as Frank rolled her hips into his. He glanced up at her knowingly and Frank felt herself blush as he released her breasts after another squeeze, palms sliding down her sides and across her stomach. 

Frank wasn’t sure what to expect, her head rolling to the side as she watched him kiss his way across her belly and hips, tongue dipping lightly into her belly button before his long nose brushed her hip bones, inhaling deeply as he worked his way down the crease of her leg. Last night was amazing in a multitude of ways—the two using up the evening hours well together, but Frank wasn’t sure what to expect from Bucky as they transitioned into unchartered waters. Never had she expected him to do what he had last night, and she’d be lying if she said she thought he’d do it again—especially so soon after the first time. But when his warm breath ghosted across her curls, large palms running across the soft skin of her thighs she couldn’t help but throw her head back into the pillows, shoulders digging into the bed as she arched, a soft, almost feral moan slipping from her lips as Bucky parted her, nose bumping her before his tongue rolled in. 

Just like last night, she couldn’t form words—let alone sentences and she only moaned and writhed on the bed, one of his hands moving to rest on her hips, pinning her pelvis to the bed as he licked and explored to his heart’s content, dragging his mouth across her in the most delicious way. She rested her hand flat along the back of the one that was holding her down, fingers curling around his as she squeezed, more moans and gasps filling the small space and it wasn’t until he pulled away, thumb circling her that she felt the pressure become too much, legs shaking as she tumbled over the edge. It felt amazing—was amazing in every way as he stroked her belly, pressing soft kisses to her thighs, chin resting there as he watched her come down from her high, dark blue eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Don’t look at me that way,” Frank turned her head, pressing her giggle into the pillow as he grinned back. 

“What way?”

“You know what way,” Frank bit her lip as he kissed his way back up her body, her legs falling open for him to slip between as he kissed her stomach and breasts, her chest, and then her neck, “it’s not decent.”

“Nothing about this is descent.” Bucky teased, hand cupping her chin as he pressed his forehead to hers, “Kiss?”

“Of course,” she whispered softly and Bucky did just that, the slow, passion filled kiss becoming one of her favorites. She could smell herself on his damp mustache, could taste herself on his tongue, and it wasn’t until he lifted himself off her, breaking the kiss that she whined. 

“Hold on, doll,” Bucky promised, kissing her forehead before he swung his legs off and moved to the dresser, not at all caring that he was stark naked, fingers opening the same cardboard box from last night, “I know I’ve got one more.”

Frank couldn’t help but giggle, her body nearly vibrating with anticipation as he pulled out a condom before returning to the bed. He was hard and long and Frank watched as Bucky stroked himself lightly, the casing rolling on a moment later before he was back on top of her, one hand sliding down her side to her leg as the other kept himself from crushing her. They connected easily, the head of Bucky’s cock brushing her entrance before he slipped in and Frank’s lips parted instantly, back arching as she adjusted to his size. He kissed her shoulder and chest, nose brushing her neck as they both took a moment to get used to the other. Even in the few times they spent together last night they hadn’t quite adjusted to their new partner. Bucky was long and Frank gripped the back of his neck when he slipped further in while he swore into hers at how tight she was, breath catching when she squeezed him even more. 

They moved together well—bodies adjusting, and there in the early morning light did they make love, damp foreheads pressed to one another, hips moving in time together, soft pants and moans mingling in the quiet air. His dog tags were cool on her heated skin, bouncing along her chest until he grabbed hold of them and swung them to rest on his back. Frank giggled playfully and Bucky only grinned down at her, whispering something about not wanting anything between them. They kept the same position, Bucky keeping the pace as he rocked into her and it wasn’t until he slipped his hand around her thigh, lifting it over his hip that their angle changed. Frank moaned out her approval and Bucky only groaned into her neck, pressing himself against her as his hips began to stutter. 

“So close,” he whispered into her neck, pants coming out a little louder and a little harder, “I’m so close. You there, baby?”

“Almost,” Frank panted back, eyes squeezing tight as she focused on the feel of his hips against her, letting the feeling take her to new heights, “almost there.”

“Gotta meet me.” Bucky’s thrusts became less rhythmic and harder, lewd sounds mixing in from their bodies, “Gotta go together.”

“Bucky—”

“I’ll get you there,” Bucky promised, hips rolling into hers as he held her down, grinding down onto her, “I know you’re gonna give it to me.”

“Oh my God,” Frank gripped his shoulders, arm wrapping around his neck as he pressed a searing kiss to her lips, noses bumping against one another as their bodies continued to rock.

“There we go,” Bucky mouthed at her neck, “I can feel you—let go. I know you can.”

Frank did just that, thighs squeezing his hips and it was only a moment later that they tumbled off that cliff together, sweaty foreheads pressed together, gasping and breathing in one another’s oxygen. Frank’s body went slack first, Bucky grinning down at her as she tilted her head back, inhaling as much air as she could as he pressed soft kisses to her neck and shoulder, slowly lowering himself down to rest against her. Her fingers drug up and down his spine as they enjoyed the post coital bliss, breathing and heart rates slowly returning to normal.

Sweaty skin dried in the damp air as they relaxed and Frank sighed several minutes later when Bucky pulled out of her, body spasming at the sudden change. Her knees bent as he moved off the bed, disposing of the condom before he climbed back on, finding that spot under her that he occupied yesterday, the two sharing whispered conversations well into the late night hours. Frank rested her chin on his sternum, hand gently tracing soft circles along his collarbones, fingers gliding across his chest hair, the thickest patches just between his nipples. They didn’t say anything in the early morning light, Bucky’s fingers running up and down the small of her back, nails scratching up her spine before he rested them on her neck, massaging the tighter muscles there.

Frank lowered her head, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his chest before she rested her cheek there, Bucky’s fingers sliding along her face to tuck some hair behind her ear, “Why’d you decide on the bombers?”

Bucky laughed, head tilted back as he grinned up at the ceiling and Frank smiled as she felt the vibrations in his chest. “I can’t say I’ve had a lot of pillow talk, but I don’t think it’s ever been about planes.”

It was her turn to laugh, cheeks warming as he continued to grin at her, “I’ve just been wondering—you’ve got the…cockiness of a fighter pilot, but you fly the B-17s.”

“I like team sports.” Bucky tilted his head to better see her, eyes sliding across her face, doing whatever he could to memorize the way she looked on top of him, “War or not—I like the uh…camaraderie that comes with it. You work together, fight together, win and lose together, take a piss together—you’re together. You’re a team.”

Frank scratched her nails up to his shoulder, kissing his collarbone, “That’s actually very romantic, Major. I like that.”

“Yeah?” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed again, “How much?”

“Down boy,” Frank pressed his chest down when he shifted to sit up, “you’re out of condoms.”

“Rookie mistake.” He resettled himself on the bed, fingers looping around the ends of her wavy hair, “Should’ve brought another box.”

“Live and learn,” Frank kissed his chin and his eyes crinkled back at her, “what sport, then?”

“Baseball,” Bucky’s reply was easy and fast, the man underneath her not even hesitating, “Yankees, hands down. There is no other team.”

Frank only shook her head and he slipped his fingers along her chin, cupping it between his thumb and index as he smoothed her lower lip with his thumb, “You like sports?”

“I don’t not like sports.” Frank shrugged, “Never really thought about it, to be honest. Yankees are in New York—that’s about all I know.”

“I’ll take you to a game,” Bucky said, “when this is all over—you and me in Yankee’s stadium.”

“I look forward to it.”

A few more minutes passed before they spoke again, Bucky’s voice a little lower as his hand drifted down her bare back, “How do you feel?”

“Good,” Frank hummed, moving to rest her chin on the back of her hand, fingers playing with the chain of his necklace, “Very good.”

“Sore?”

“In a good way.” Frank shook her head, thoughts of last night drifting into her head. After their second time yesterday evening, when the pleasure and passion wore off Frank had found herself on the sore side. Not only had it been a handful of months since her last encounter, but taking Bucky back to back at his size had resulted in some discomfort and spasming, the handsome man under her happily drawing her a bath to relax after. 

Frank shifted up his body, fingers gliding through his hair before she pressed a slow kiss to his lips, nose nuzzling his as he happily returned her kiss. She could feel his heart beating, just as she was sure he could feel hers, his hands moving to rest on her waist as they kissed well into the mid-morning hour. Lips wandered, their touches turning a little more sure and intentional and it wasn’t until Frank found herself on her back, Bucky’s thigh pressed between her legs that she pulled away. Her lips were tingly and swollen, eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his to her forehead. She wasn’t sure she’d ever kissed anyone that long and that passionate before, feeling the way she assumed a teenager might feel after going on a drive with their sweetheart. 

They slowed down their movements, Frank wrapping her arms around his neck as he hugged her back, kissing her shoulder and neck before making his way to her ear, “Tell me I don’t have to get out of bed today.”

Frank sighed, stroking the back of his neck, “I would—but I don’t like to lie.”

Bucky kissed her again, moving to push himself up onto his palms, pausing for a handful of seconds before he lowered himself back down to her, kissing her, “Just five more minutes.”

Bucky’s proposed five minutes turned into fifty before he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, nose running up her ear as he pushed himself up and off of her. Frank hummed, legs tangled in the sheets, “I’ll get up with you.”

“No, no, no,” Bucky shook his head, moving to lean over her, kissing her nose, “stay—rest. S’what you’re supposed to be doin’ anyway. Sleep and relax, I’ll come back when I’ve got a break.”

“I can meet you on base,” Frank said, “here in a few hours.”

“Nah—I don’t want you walking in the mud, I’ll come get you. Let me get you.”

“You have things to do,” Frank pushed herself up onto her elbows as Bucky moved into a sitting position, eyeing the muscles in his back and shoulders ripple, fingers raking through his ruffled hair, “I’ll be fine—could use the walk.”

“Not after last night and this morning’s work out,” Bucky grinned and Frank laughed, “you’ve gotta be starving.”

“Mmm.” Frank reached out to touch his back, Bucky glancing at her over his shoulder as she traced a line between a few of his moles, “We didn’t eat dinner last night, did we?”

“Well, I did…and again this morning.”

Frank laughed, throwing her arm over her face in embarrassment and Buckly laughed with her, reaching over to pull it away, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and her forehead before he pushed himself off the bed, both of them knowing that if he didn’t now, he wouldn’t. Frank watched him dress, the sheets pulled up and over her chest, head titled as she watched him button and zip himself expertly back into his uniform, tucking the dog tags into his undershirt. He just finished buttoning his jacket, tie open and undone as he made his way over to her, shuffling his shoes on as he went. “Rest,” he kissed her again, thumb brushing across the apple of her cheek as he cupped her face, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Frank nodded, already feeling her eyes heavy from lack of sleep the days before, her body still exhausted from her close call yesterday. Bucky kissed her again, nuzzling his nose along hers as he pulled back and made his way to the door, sending her a playful wink before he disappeared. 

---

Bucky’s morning was on a slow decline—starting out in absolute heaven with the angel in his bed, he felt like he was only soaring on cloud nine when his boys landed, greeting them with a wide smile and full heart. Buck was back, Curt and Benny, Brady, even Blakely—the entire crew finally together, something he’d been looking forward to and counting down the days to since he arrived in England. But as he made his way into Colonel Harold Huglin’s office after dropping Buck off at the officers’ quarters to get settled, he knew the wind was about to change. 

“Colonel,” Bucky greeted his commanding officer formally, taking a seat after he was allowed, fidgeting with his uniform as he placed his cap on his knee. He knew his hair was a little too ruffled, Huglin’s eyes glancing up at the dark curls. He hadn’t showered nor shaved, the air exec hitting the runway just as his boys landed after he left Frank in bed. He could still smell her on him and if he focused well enough could taste her too—not wanting to lose either of those things anytime soon. 

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

Huglin nodded, glancing down at the papers on his desk, fingers sliding a few over as he chose his words carefully, “You are highly recommended, Major. I spent the morning looking over your paperwork. Your instructors and superiors have done nothing but sing your praises—which, I imagine, is one of the reasons you’re in the position you are now.”

Bucky remained silent, well aware of a rhetorical question when he met one—although he often ignored it, he didn’t think this was one of those situations. “Your men have just arrived in England, Major Egan. I don’t think I need to explain the importance of leadership, do I?”

“No, sir.”

“Good,” Huglin moved his hands to rest in his lap, dark eyes staring directly into Bucky’s, “because their lives depend on order, discipline, and your example. If we are to function properly, at the highest level, then we must remember our standards. In and out of uniform, you represent the military, your country, base, and squadron. Failure to adhere to the standards that maintain the integrity and respectability of our military is a line you don’t want to cross, Major.”

Buck shifted, fingers gripping his jacket belt buckle in an attempt to keep it from digging into his stomach, watching Huglin lift the glass of milk off his desk before sipping it slowly and methodically, continuing his reprimand once he was finished, “Inappropriate conduct is a breach of discipline and decorum, which could potentially undermine the professional image we strive for. You are expected to maintain this image, Major Egan, and if you cannot remain professional in uniform and on duty, then you’ll find yourself on a boat back to the states. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“I pulled her papers,” Huglin lifted a hand, moving a few of the neat stacks to pull out another piece, Bucky’s eyes catching Frank’s name as he lifted it, “and I phoned her commanding officer this morning—”

Fuck. Dorothy was going to kill him. “Was that really nec—”

“Yes.” Huglin looked over the tip of the paper, dark eyes narrowing, “In her year with the Air Transport Auxiliary, Captain Frank has received no write ups, no formal warnings, and is spoken highly of by her superiors. She's received advanced training and is a vital member of the ATA and if it weren’t for the fact that they need skilled pilots, she’d be a commander herself by now.” Huglin dropped the paper onto his desk and Bucky’s stomach twisted as he read the words ‘formal warning’ at the bottom. “Let this be a lesson for you both, professionalism and discretion is a necessity when you are on duty and in uniform. Commander Skylar has assured me that while there are only a handful of pilots capable of ferrying the heavy planes, she won’t hesitate to find another to fly here if we have any further issue. Understood?” 

“Sir, this isn’t her fault—”

“Understood?” 

“Understood, Colonel.” 

“You are in charge of thirty-five planes and three-hundred and fifty crewmen…boys who have yet to experience combat and their lives depend on order and discipline and your example. Need I remind you again, Major, that Colonel LeMay is itching to pull the trigger on the 100th Bomb Group in order to maximize our effectiveness. I won’t allow that to happen on my watch, and I expect all officers to get in the game with me. That means you, Major Egan.”

“Sir, with all due respect—”

“You’re dismissed.”

Bucky internalized the heavy sigh he wanted to heave, moving into a standing position to salute his superior before he exited the room. He moved quickly out of Huglin’s hut, squinting against the rapidly lightening sky as the clouds shifted to make way for the sun. The saturated earth squelched under his feet, but before he could make his way back in the direction he came, he saw a familiar face, the dark green jumpsuit with patchy grease stains passing him. “Lemmons!”

The young nineteen year old crew chief turned to glance back in the direction his name was called, the curls that didn’t fit in his sock hat falling over his forehead, eyes finding Bucky a moment later. “Major.” Corporal Ken Lemmons was easy to get along with and, for the most part, fairly soft spoken, opting to think before he barked orders, something a lot of people in charge didn’t do. Fresh-faced, but with a brain as fast and as sharp as officers twice his age, Bucky would choose Lemmons any day of the week to be on his team. 

“Talk to me about the Spitfire,” Bucky approached, pulling his hat on as he walked with Lemmons in the direction he was originally heading. 

“The plane or the pilot?”

Bucky half laughed, half choked, shaking his head as Lemmons sent him a knowing look, “Yeah—funny. All you little chickens cluckin’ out here just got my ass chewed out.”

“Something tells me you’ll be just fine.” Lemmons moved with Bucky further into the Base, away from the offices and closer to the mess, “What do you want to know?”

“Is it flyable?” 

“Oh yeah,” Lemmons nodded, “yeah—it’s good to go. We made some patches on it, the fuel tank’s no longer leaking, so she’s good to go.”

“Leaking?”

“The lower fuel tank,” Lemmons said, “a bullet went right through the corner of it. Your girl’s lucky—if she hadn’t landed when she did, she probably would have run out of fuel.”

Bucky paused in the walkway, Lemmons taking a second to walk back to him, the two standing out of the main pathway as men in uniform passed by, “How many holes did you have to patch?”

“‘Bout ten,” Lemmons glanced upwards, as if he were trying to remember the aircraft and exactly where the holes were, “yeah—maybe twelve. I don’t know, I think a few of them were double shots. Both of her fuel tanks were hit, I’m honestly surprised she didn’t go up in flames…but…uh…” Lemmons words died down at seeing the stricken look across Bucky’s face, eyes widening once he realized what he had said. Clearing his throat he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck, “Everything’s good now, Major. I promise. I’d put my own mom in it if she wasn’t scared of heights.”

Bucky nodded, hand lifting to run across his jaw, eyes automatically looking back behind him in the direction of the village where he knew Frank would still be. “Alright, uh—thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Major.”

Bucky pulled his hat off after Lemmons walked away, his fingers raking through his hair, heart and brain torn at what he should do and what he wanted to do now. He knew he needed to get back to the quarters, he needed to talk to Buck and the boys, give them a tour and walk them through what their day would look like, but hell if his heart didn’t want to jump in the jeep and tear after her, check and recheck and then recheck again that she was ok. Make sure there wasn’t a freckle or mole or scar unaccounted for and lose himself in her the rest of the day—anything to pretend that the entire world wasn’t burning all around them. With a heavy sigh, he allowed himself a moment to think of the night before, and what, hopefully, more nights might hold, but he forced it away after a handful of seconds, knowing that he had a long list of things to do today and if he didn’t get moving he wouldn’t get any of them done.

---

Frank could tell something was bothering Bucky the moment they were in the jeep, his hand spread out along her thigh, fingers gliding along the hem of her skirt. He was lost in thought as he drove and gently Frank reached down to play with his fingers, stroking his knuckles soothingly. She waited a few moments, watching the countryside pass before she spoke, “We don’t have to…tell anyone.” Bucky glanced over at her curiously, “If you’re worried about the boys and Buck, it doesn’t have to be today. I can fly back and we can—”

Bucky chuckled, turning his hand over to lace his fingers with hers, “No, no…that’s not what I’m…no, I just got a lot on my mind. It’s not about that—trust me, if there’s anything I am sure about, it’s that.”

“You’re sure?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky lifted her hand to press a soft kiss to the back of her hand, watching as the first few huts came into view, “I’m sure.”

Frank didn’t want to press, so she let it be, squeezing his hand lightly as they rolled through the outskirts of the base, Bucky nodding and lifting a hand in greeting as he drove by. Frank watched the airfield come into view, leaning back in her seat as Bucky pulled the jeep up near the spot he originally took it from, shifting it into park before they both got out of the vehicle. “Gonna take you to medical first,” Bucky slid his hand around her waist, resting it flat on the small of her back as they walked, “see what the rest of the day holds.”

“Oh my God,” Frank pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes wide as she came to a stop, Bucky turning to look back at her, “I never called Dorothy. She’s probably worried sick—I…I need to go or—or call, and the plane…”

“Hey—hey,” Bucky reached for her, hand moving to rest on her shoulder as he squeezed it, “she knows, doll. My CO spoke with her this morning and everything. I already have the plane taken care of, you’re good to go there.”

Frank took a moment to look him over, studying his face, “Is she mad? Was your CO upset?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky shook his head, glancing around to keep tally of who was in the area when she was present, “I didn’t get a chance to call her like I planned—Huglin’s a little ruffled, I had to listen to him go on and on earlier. So, probably no more kisses like that on the tarmac.”

Frank chuckled softly, shaking her head, “noted—I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, “I—let my emotions get the better of me while we were both in uniform and now we know Huglin’s a lonely, jealous little man so…”

Frank scoffed, tapping his stomach with the back of her hand as he grinned down at her, “Are you in trouble?”

“I don’t think so,” Bucky only shrugged, “I’m more worried about you, though. Think Dorothy’ll be angry?”

“She doesn’t really get angry,” Frank shook her head, “and it’s not the first time she’s received a call about one of us…although probably the first time it’s about kissing…I don’t know. I hope not.”

“Keep me updated,” Bucky paused after they crossed the remaining steps to the medical hut, hand lifting to run across her shoulder and arm, “I gotta go fill somethin’ out at tower—meet me there when you’ve got the green light, ok? We’ll get you in the air.”

“Sounds good,” Frank tilted her head as Bucky dropped his to press a soft and quick kiss to her lips, a light blush covering her cheeks, “I thought we couldn’t—”

“Just a quick one,” Bucky winked back at her, releasing her elbow as he stepped backwards, “can’t quit cold turkey now, can we?”

Frank laughed, shaking her head at him before making her way into the building to talk to the doctor.

---

Gale Cleven finished unpacking the little clothing he had, eyes lifting every time someone came or left the hut. So far he’d been introduced to a handful of men, each one as nice and young as the last. Despite the small talk being fairly standard, consisting of the standard “where you from, how old are you, how was your trip” questions, Buck couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something. After Curt introduced him as Buck about twenty minutes ago to a group of fellas outside the mess, he’d been accidentally called Bucky twice now, and once asked about someone named Frank. But he’d yet to meet anyone named Frank—at least not in their hut and while that alone was a curious question, he had even more questions for his best friend as to why he was kissing some guy named Frank in the middle of the tarmac.

Walking beside Lieutenant Curtis Biddick and Captain Bernard DeMarco, Buck kept to himself just as he usually did, eyes sweeping the base and the camp, trying to take in as much as he could. He didn’t like to be in unfamiliar areas, something he developed over the long years of his childhood, and the first thing he always did in a new place was figure everything out. By the time night fell, he’d have the whole base mapped out in his head—he’d have to, wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he did. So it wasn’t a surprise as the trio looped around back towards the airfield, the tarmac and tower coming into view as they made their way through the camp  

“Where’s your dog?” Curt asked, glancing around, realizing in the middle of a story about darts that DeMarco’s new dog wasn’t at his side, “You already let him run off?”

“He’s fine,” DeMarco waved him off, eyes forward as they approached the tower, “What’s he gonna do? Run in an empty field? Dogs love that.”

“I dunno…”

Buck looked up towards the top of the landing platform just outside the doors of the tower to see his best friend and brother leaning against the railing, eyes trained upwards towards the sky. A quick glance in that direction told Buck that a plane was coming in, the unmistakable roar of a Miles Magister bouncing around as it grew closer and closer until it landed on the runway. 

Bucky looked away once the plane landed before he noticed them on the ground, moving towards the steps as the plane finished taxiing, the taller man lifting a hand in greeting towards them. 

“Didn’t think we’d see one of ‘em anytime soon.'' Curt squinted down the runway, the plane having caught all of their attention when it landed, “We runnin’ trainin’ missions or something?”

“Nah,” Bucky shook his head, hands buried into his jacket as he came to a stop in front of them, “just a pick up—we had an emergency landing yesterday from the ATA.”

“ATA,” DeMarco glanced over at Curt for explanation but the shorter man only shrugged, “right…”

“Air Transport Auxiliary,” Bucky said, watching as Buck moved to slide his hand into the pocket of his jacket, fingers searching for a piece of gum or his toothpick canister, knowing he had something in there. “They ferry in planes from time to time.”

Neither Curt nor Demarco seemed all that interested in the ATA, too busy taking in the area and the base that would be their home for the next several months. Buck slipped a toothpick between his teeth, moving to stand beside his best friend. He looked over towards the other two who appeared to be beginning a conversation about the mud before looking at Bucky, “I’ve been hearing some interesting things since we landed.”

“Yeah?” Bucky glanced over at him, eyes hidden behind the sunglasses he wore, “anything good?”

“I’m not sure,” Buck watched a figure further down crawl out of the Magister, the pilot lean and tall, “is there anything you wanna tell me, John?”

Bucky was quiet for a few seconds, a very slow smile forming across his face as he watched the pilot slide off their helmet, blonde hair that was perfectly styled falling out. The boys had yet to notice her. “I dunno,” Bucky ran a hand along his chin, “we already went over the bikes…the mud…I prefer the pub in Dicklesberg rather than—”

“Mhmm.” Buck tilted his head, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, “you write me a letter about a unicorn ceramic but you can’t tell me about some fella named—”

“Mother of God, who is that?”

Notes:

Ahhhhhh!! SO CLOSE!!

Let me know what you think, I can’t wait to read it! I’m nervous about writing Buck, his voice is SO specific, so let me know how I did. I needed to start slow, hahaha.

 

(If you can’t wait for the next update, you should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here!)

Chapter 13: XIII

XIII.

All of their heads turned to look down the tarmac at the approaching blonde, the three just slightly startled by DeMarco’s exclamation, sunglasses falling down his nose as he took the tall blonde in, lips parting just slightly. Benny was one of the quieter ones when it came to women, he flirted and he’d taken his fair share to bed, but he wasn’t nearly as flamboyant as Curt or as bold as Bucky. “Fuck me, who is that?”

“Easy Benny,” Buck said from behind his toothpick, glancing over to Bucky who only remained standing, eyes hidden behind his own sunglasses, “that’s no way to speak about a lady.”

“Commander Amelia Ryan,” Bucky said, hands firmly in the pockets of his jacket, he snuck a glance over his shoulder at Benny, “she’s with the ATA.”

“I’m in love,” Benny shook his head, hand lifting to pull the glasses off his face, watching as she slipped into the waiting jeep, Kidd making his way towards them, the boy from Philly clipping his glasses onto the front of his own jacket. 

“You’re in something,” Curt said before he nudged Bucky with a shake of his head, a half smile across Bucky’s own lips, “your flight was longer than I thought, huh, Benny?”

Buck smiled as the boys laughed at their friend’s expense and as the jeep made its way towards him, DeMarco slipped his fingers through his hair, eyes trained on the gorgeous blonde in the front seat. “It’s day one,” Buck reminded them, the corner of his lip lifting, “give it some time, DeMarco.”

“How often does she fly here?” DeMarco ignored the comments, watching her climb out of the truck and Bucky was almost convinced his friend’s head was going to explode. 

“First I’ve seen her,” Bucky shook his head, and as if he could feel his girl's presence, he turned his head to see Frank come out of the medical hut, squinting into the sunlight. She was redressed in her flight gear, hair braided and tucked expertly at the back of her neck and he watched her slide a few stray strands behind her ear, waving to a few of the red cross girls as they passed, pausing momentarily to talk before Frank squeezed Helen’s elbow and moved away from the hut. 

Bucky sent a glance towards his boys, DeMarco still wrapped up in the arrival of their second ATA pilot, while Curt busied himself with ribbing his good friend, Buck calling fouls when Curt got just a little too crass. “M’just tryin’a get a reaction out of him,” Curt waved his hand towards DeMarco, “brings his fuckin’ dog out here and now his mouth’s open so wide a fly’s probably gonna buzz right in…”

“Meatball…” DeMarco’s eyes immediately ripped from the jeep, “Where’s Meatball? Dames love dogs…where is he?”

“Probably running through the field, remember…?”

“Curt—”

“Nah, nah, nah.” Curt took a step back, “You pick up your own women, Benny. We’re on day one and you’re already hard up—”

“He’s not the only one.”

Curt’s head whipped back towards Buck, lips parted as he looked between the two Majors, trying to figure out what he missed. Bucky’s attention had since turned back to his friend and even in their sunglasses Curt knew they were staring at each other. DeMarco shifted as soon as Amelia left Kidd, moving to take his hat off as he approached and despite Bucky really wanting to listen in on that conversation, his full attention was on Buck and their staring contest. Bucky took a few moments to gather his thoughts before he heard the approaching footsteps, but before he could either respond to Buck or greet Frank, Amelia was ending her brief conversation with DeMarco and hurrying her way towards the brunette. 

“Tell me you’re ok,” Amelia didn’t even give them a second glance, moving the handful of feet away to wrap her hand around the back of Frank’s neck, their foreheads pressed together, “we knew something was wrong when you never got to Scotland before dark, eventually one of the officers phoned letting us know you arrived, but that there's been an incident. Then Dorothy’s call this morning…”

“I’m ok,” Frank promised, squeezing her friend’s wrist as they parted from one another, Frank looking up at Amelia’s concerned face, “I was in shock yesterday and they wouldn’t release me to fly. I’m better this morning—a lot better.”

“I’m glad,” Amelia patted her friend’s cheek before taking a step back, head turning to look at the group of boys behind them, none of them even trying to hide the fact that they were eavesdropping, “I suppose it’s only fair that you stayed in his infirmary after he stayed in yours?”

Frank laughed softly, shaking her head as she looked over the blonde’s shoulder, eyes finding Bucky’s sunglasses, “Infirmary. Right—of course.”

Amelia’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline, “Oh my God, Rose was right.”

“Stop,” Frank shoved her hands away when Amelia went to grab her shoulders.

“Tell me everything—”

“Later,” Frank only laughed when Amelia pouted, “when you tell me about whatever it was that I just witnessed.”

“He’s from Philly,” Amelia dropped her voice to a whisper and Frank was almost sure she heard one of the boys, the shorter of the group, grumble about it, “so he’s a mama’s boy who’s probably fantastic in bed—but I’m not looking to get my heart broken.”

Frank shook her head, “What are you even doing here…?”

“I’m delivering your plane,” Amelia hesitated as Frank frowned, “I’ll take the Spitfire on to Scotland and then catch the train back.”

Several thoughts filled Frank’s head all at once, her eyes roaming the tarmac until they landed on the Magister, her heart sinking as the bright yellow plane stood out like a sore thumb. Her shoulders dropped and she knew then she was in trouble. “But…Maggie…really?”

“Dorothy’s instructions,” Amelia offered weakly, “but if it makes you feel better, she was never going to let you continue on to Scotland.”

“Great.” Frank exhaled slowly, “great. I’m really fucked, aren’t I?”

“I sure hope so.” Frank gasped, smacking her friend along the arm and Amelia only laughed, “I’m just warming you up for Rose. You know she’s frothing at the mouth. She turned down a ferry today so she could be on base when you get back.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Frank’s eyes landed back on the group of men who were still staring at them as if they were at a theatre, “ok—this…is going to be terrible.”

“She’s not that bad,” Amelia stole a glance at the plane, “granted, it’s been awhile since I flew one, but she’s not the worst.”

“It’s not the plane, but the meaning,” Frank shook her head, frown covering her face, “I haven’t flown a Magister since training. I’m lucky if I’m not demoted.”

“You know Dorothy wouldn’t allow that,” Amelia shook her head, “you’ll be back in the B-17s soon enough. You just get to fly Maggie back.”

“Have to fly Maggie back,” Frank nudged Amelia’s arm, “while you get to take the fighter up to Scotland.”

“I was due for some hours anyway,” Amelia pointed towards one of the huts, “where can I freshen up before I take off again? I’m on strict orders to get to Scotland soon.”

Frank gave Amelia directions, the blonde waving as she wandered off, leaving Frank alone a handful of feet away from the group of pilots. Bucky pulled one of his hands from his jacket, motioning her over and Frank followed his lead. She expected him to slide his hand back into the pocket of his jacket, but instead he looped it around her neck, wrist dangling off her shoulder as he took a moment to point to each of the men as he introduced them, “Benny DeMarco, Curt Biddick, and Buck. Guys this is Captain Stella Frank.”

“Frank is a last name…” Buck shot his friend a look and Bucky only grinned wider, “nice to meet you, Captain.”

“Likewise,” Frank nodded back, “I’m sorry you don’t have a better nickname.”

Buck laughed at that, his face breaking out into a surprised grin, shaking his head as Frank leaned just slightly into Bucky’s side, the other guys chuckling at the exchange. “It’s alright,” Buck said, “I’ll get ‘im back one day.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Bucky’s smile stretched across his face, “Frank flies with the ATA—she ferries in our B-17s and uh…occasionally picks fights with the Nazis and has to use my runway as an escape route.”

“Ok…” Frank rolled her eyes, nudging her elbow into his side as he smiled down at her, “that’s not exactly true.” 

Curt glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the Supermarine Spitfire, eyebrows lifted, “You flew that in?”

Frank nodded, “Yesterday.”

“With Nazis…?”

Bucky's reply was quicker than her own, “Yes.”

“No,” Frank laughed, shaking her head as Bucky chuckled, “no—I took off from Shoreham and met up with an Me 109 over the Channel.”

Buck whistled lowly and Curt only shook his head, “A Messerschmitt…alright. I get it now.” He sent a playful wink towards Bucky who only chuckled, teeth flashing in amusement, “So uh…how long have you two…” Curt motioned between the two of them, Bucky beaming proudly as Frank’s face reddened. 

“Just a few days,” Frank said.

While Bucky replied at the same time, “Since I landed.” 

Curt shook his head in wonder as Buck eyed his friend curiously, looking him over head to toe as if he weren’t sure if it really was John Egan standing there. “C’mon,” Bucky’s hand slid from her shoulder to her back, fingers grazing her waist, “let’s get you into the air. I’ve caused enough problems for you today.” 

Frank bid goodbye to the boys, Buck bowing his head as Curt wiggled his fingers, DeMarco still looking off in the direction Amelia disappeared to, his face lighting up when she reappeared a moment later.

Frank lifted her hand but only frowned as Amelia paused, head cocked to the side, eyes trained several yards away. “Amelia—”

“There’s a dog!” Amelia dropped to her heels as a massive dog came running over, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, very much looking like he was in heaven. 

She held her hand out and the fluffy dog with the thick tail circled her twice, sniffing her excitedly before he bopped the palm of her hand with his nose, tongue licking along her fingers and wrist. “You have a dog on base?” Frank asked, stopping in her tracks as Bucky tried to escort her towards the jeep. 

“DeMarco’s dog,” Bucky said, small smile forming at seeing Frank’s eyes glued to the animal, something in her eyes sparkling that he hadn't seen yet, “his name’s Meatball. Flew in this morning.” 

“He’s part wolf!” 

Before anyone could say anything back to DeMarco, Amelia had her hands buried in the dog's thick coat, face pressed to his. “He’s adorable,” she all but cooed, Meatball happily accepting her hug and nuzzles as he flopped down into a sitting position, “I haven’t seen a dog since we got here. He looks just like my Grandfather’s dog back home. Except you’re just so fluffy, aren’t you? Are you a good boy? You are, aren’t you?” 

“I think Benny wants to be her good boy.” 

The smack that DeMarco landed against Curt’s shoulder had them all chuckling and Bucky found his way back to his boys as Frank joined Amelia and Meatball a handful of feet away. Meatball seemed to thrive on the attention, and while he loved his new owner unconditionally, the attention from the girls was definitely something he lacked. Meatball rolled over not long after Frank’s fingers ran through his coat, the dog all but begging for a belly rub. Amelia cooed and spoke to Meatball as if he were her baby, stroking his ears and chin and Frank only laughed, patting his stomach playfully. There was something about a dog that lifted spirits, something that allowed her to feel as if everything was right in the world. She always wanted a dog, but her parents had refused and while her ex-husband’s family had a lot of working dogs, they never allowed them in the house. 

She stroked Meatball’s face, the dog’s head rolling into her lap as he gladly accepted all of the ATA pilots’ attention. “Ok—I gotta come back to see him,” Amelia was the first to push herself up, “he’s absolutely adorable.” 

“He’s also owned by DeMarco,” Bucky’s voice caught everyone’s attention as he approached, standing directly behind Frank so that when she tilted her head back to look at him, the back of her head touched his shins. 

Amelia seemed to consider the boy from Philly again and Frank laughed, leaning down to press a loving kiss to the top of Mearball’s head. “Looks like you’ll have to throw him a pity fuck so we can keep petting his dog, ‘Melia.”

Amelia gasped, eyes widening and Bucky laughed, reaching down to take Frank’s hand that she stretched up to him once Meatball hopped to his feet, shaking his coat out. Frank let Bucky pull her up, arm sliding around her waist so his fingers skimmed her stomach, her back to his chest. 

“Dogs, huh?” 

“Always,” Frank turned, Bucky’s hand falling away as he grinned down at her, hand lifting to take her chin between his fingers, “so you better let him stay on your base, Mr. Air Exec.”

“Noted,” Bucky pecked her quickly before they parted, neither of them catching the way Amelia and the boys’ eyes widened at their display. Frank turned to look at Amelia, the blonde’s eyes shifting back and forth between them. 

“I’m intrigued,” Amelia eventually said, eyes landing on Frank, “don’t tell Rose everything before I get back.” 

Frank laughed, reaching down to grab the bag she dropped when she went to love on Meatball, the dog still hovering nearby as he sniffed the air, tail wagging, “Something tells me I’ll have some meetings when I get back.” 

Amelia winced, moving to grab her own bag, “Just remember that Dorothy loves you.” The blonde lifted her hand to the group of boys as they passed, Bucky blowing them kisses when Curt catcalled and Frank only laughed, her cheeks warming at the attention. They approached the jeep, Frank tossing her bag into the back before she climbed into the passenger seat, Amelia settling herself in the back as Bucky started it up. 

The ground crew had already refueled the plane Amelia flew in, the Spitfire lined up beside it. “I want out first,” Frank called over her shoulder, her stomach flipping slightly when Bucky rested his hand on her thigh, thumb gently stroking her knee, “I don’t want to watch you fly off in my plane.” 

“I don’t think so,” Amelia snorted, “I’ll pull rank, I don’t want to follow behind you.” Frank scoffed and Amelia only giggled, Bucky shaking his head with a slight smile across his face. He dropped Amelia off first, the commander hopping out of the back before she waved to them both, pointing waring towards Bucky as she walked backwards towards the Spitfire, “Watch yourself, Major Egan. She’s a handful.”

“Good thing I’ve got two hands!”

Amelia laughed, waving as Bucky drove off and Frank only rolled her eyes, hand sliding over his as he steered them to the Magister. Frank made a face and Bucky lifted her hand to kiss the back of it, both of them sliding out of the jeep once they arrived. “It’s terrible,” Frank dropped her bag, hands on her hips as she stared at the blindingly bright plane, “I hate this plane. I hated it last year, I hate it now. It’s loud and yellow and dull.”

Bucky came to a stop beside her, eyeing the paint job and the wings as he leaned back against the hood of the jeep. “What do you think Dorothy’s going to say?”

“I don’t know.” Frank stretched a hand out to brush the tips of her fingers along the wing, the Magister a sad hunk of metal compared to the Spitfire she brought in. “Hopefully I’m not grounded.”

“She wouldn’t ground you,” Bucky frowned, “no way. I’ll call her if that’s the case.”

“We’ll see.” Frank turned to look over at him, hand moving to brush along the buttons of his jacket as she stepped closer, “It might be better if we just lay low for now.”

Bucky lowered his head, their faces just a few inches from one another, “I really, really want to kiss you against this ugly plane.”

Frank laughed, shaking her head, “That would make it better…but probably not a good idea.”

Bucky tilted his head back, grunting unhappily as Frank moved towards the plane, peeking inside before she tossed her bag in. Bucky stepped forward to follow her, watching as she climbed into the cockpit. Off to the other side the roar of the Spitfire cut out all other noises, the propeller starting up rapidly. Bucky took that chance, when he hoped everyone else was watching the Spitfire, to duck his head in and kiss her deeply, nose brushing hers as their tongues met briefly. “Fly safe,” Bucky kissed her forehead before taking a step back, “and call me later, alright? Wanna make sure you get there safely and that everything’s ok.”

Frank nodded as Bucky returned to the jeep as she went through her preflight check, fingers moving expertly over the controls of the training plane she’d been so excited to upgrade from last year. When she was ready to go, propeller starting up, she lifted her fingers to her lips before she waved them back to Bucky, the Air Exec smiling broadly at her as he watched her take off down the runway not long after Amelia’s Spitfire disappeared into the sky.

---

Despite the plane being lighter when she landed, Frank felt like there was lead in her stomach as she taxied into place back at RAF Ratcliffe, moved through her post-flight checklist, and signed off in her log book. No one was there to pick her up, it was often a flip of the coin on if they had a ride down the runway or not, depending on shifts and if any of the boys needed a ride first, so Frank spent the long walk back to the dormitories unsure of what was going to be waiting for her. She showered earlier this morning, even after she took a bath the night before, brief memories drifting to Bucky humming as he wandered around the bathroom and bedroom as she relaxed, but even after the bath she still felt some soreness between her legs, a light blush crossing her cheeks as she began to worry she was walking a little abnormally.

When Frank entered the dormitory, she expected it to be fairly empty, with most of the girls congregating in the recreational rooms as they waited for assignments and transports, by now they would be halfway through a bridge tournament and most likely several pairs of socks and scarves knitted for the upcoming winter. Frank shivered at the thought of the English sky graying even more than it already was, remembering the freezing fog and cool rain as they transitioned from summer to fall and then fall to winter. However, as she passed by the rows of beds and plopped her bag onto the floor beside her own did footsteps echo from down the hall, Rose’s flushed face appearing in the doorway a moment later. 

“I…saw…” Rose inhaled deeply, hand resting on her waist as she tried to catch her breath, “...you come in…what…”

“Take a second,” Frank laughed, shrugging off her jacket before tossing it onto the trunk, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“No…” Rose inhaled deeply again, stomping her foot as the stitch in her side grew, “...cramp…”

Frank unzipped herself out of her coveralls, the material falling to make way for her uniform, the brunette shaking the wrinkles out of her trousers as Rose moved further into the dormitory, sounding less like a racehorse and more like a person now, “Amelia said you turned down a ferry today.”

“I absolutely did.” Rose collapsed onto Frank’s bed, making a face when the sweaty coveralls landed beside her, the red-head pushing it off and onto the floor as Frank rolled her eyes, “Tell me everything. Now. Before Dot gets to you.”

“How mad is she?” Frank asked, the lead in stomach beginning to weigh her down, “I didn’t do anything intentionally—”

“I don’t care about that.” Rose waved her off, “Fuck the Nazis, I know you would’ve blown ‘em out of the sky if you could. I want to know what happened when you didn’t come back last night.”

“They didn’t clear me to fly until this morning.” Frank shook her head, “So is Dot mad or not…?”

“She’s fuming,” Rose leaned back on her hand. “Where’d you stay?”

“Like…the same kind of mad after we snuck out to go to the pub when Mrs. Roosevelt was here, or the type of mad when you slept through the last air raid?”

“Second one,” Rose said, “but like—also kind of the first because it was a whole thing with the brass and how we didn’t know where the Spitfire was and then there was a search mission and anyway, how did last night go?”

“A search mission?” Frank’s jaw hung open.

“You were missing!” Rose shrugged, “you never made it to Scotland—we all know the coast is hot, what did you expect? You’re Dorothy’s favorite, darling of the ATA…what did you fucking think was going to happen?”

“I don’t know,” Frank waved her hands, “someone might call Thorpe Abbotts before sounding an alarm?”

“Well…” Rose made a face and Frank felt her stomach drop all the way to her ass, “you weren’t technically supposed to be there.”

“What do you mean?” Frank moved to sit on the edge of the bed, “No—I filed my flight plan, I made sure to mark where I was stopping to refuel…”

“Dorothy refiled after you took off,” Rose dropped her voice, “no one would have ever bought that being a reasonable refueling station. It makes no sense, we all knew it. You had enough fuel to get to Scotland, you’d be on fumes, but you had enough. If you hadn’t taken a detour over the Channel, that is.”

Frank shook her head, trying to process this new information and her CO refiling her paperwork. “So they had no idea where I was?”

“We did,” Rose shrugged, “but Dorothy knew going into it that if something happened she’d have to play along. She’d be dismissed immediately if they found out she messed around with the logs.”

“Lee did it all the fucking time so he could see his mistress in London!”

“Yeah, well,” Rose lifted a shoulder, “he’s got a swinging dick, what do you want me to tell you?”

Frank scoffed, moving to press a hand to her face, “Shit—ok, so there was a search and rescue?”

“Just a search,” Rose shook her head, “you were presumed.”

“This just keeps getting worse,” Frank’s shoulders dropped, “then what?”

“Didn’t find anything, obviously, because you were cuddled up with your Air Exec in your little love nest—where did you stay?”

“Rose!”

“What?” Rose held her hands up, “c’mon—Frank, it’s fine! Dorothy smoothed things over, you’ll get your slap on the wrist and we’ll all move on. Now tell me where you stayed!”

Frank pushed herself off the bed, pacing a few steps between her bed and the one to the left, “But did Dot get a slap on the wrist?”

“She’s been in meetings all day,” Rose shrugged, “since your lover’s CO called, she’s been pretty busy.”

“Fuck,” Frank drew out the word, “I’m done. They’re sending me home, aren’t they? I’ll take a boat back to the states, probably get blasted out of the water by a sub and wind up on some island just like—”

“Stop,” Rose laughed, shaking her head as she scrambled off the bed, moving to grab her friend’s elbows, “stop—breathe, ok? You’re not going anywhere. Dot’s fine—she’s still your CO, she’s still a commander. She’s in more trouble for letting you fly despite knowing you hadn’t gone through your last flight evaluation, ok? She’s fine, you’re fine. She has to do a lot of paperwork, you’re gonna get a formal warning, and then you have to do your eval. It’s fine.” 

Frank inhaled deeply, eyes wide as she nodded, Rose working her through another deep breath, “Ok—ok…”

“Now,” Rose moved her hands to her shoulders, squeezing them tightly, “tell me you got some last night.”

“You better fucking have.” Rose and Frank turned to see Dorothy walk in, their friend and CO looking absolutely exhausted, the curls she prided herself on falling just a little limp, shoulders hunched from a long day, “Because if I went through a day and a half of hell just so you two could break up or not sleep together, I’m going to be cross.”

Frank moved away from Rose, hurrying across the room to the woman she whole-heartedly considered a sister, the two embracing as Dorothy pressed a kiss to her temple, “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, pulling away as Dorothy cupped her face, brushing a few tears away from her cheeks, “yeah, I’m ok.”

“Everything is well? He took care of you?”

Frank nodded again, sniffling as Dorothy patted some of the stray hairs that escaped her braid down, “Yeah—yeah everything’s fine. He got me into medical, calmed me down—”

“Fucked you good…?”

“Rose,” Dorothy made a face and Rose only held her hands up in surrender. 

“I’m dying over here,” Rose dropped her hands to her sides, “tell me something happened. Even if it didn’t, just lie to me at this point.”

“Yes,” Frank rolled her eyes as Dorothy released the brunette, the girls moving back towards Frank’s bed and Rose, “ok? Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Rose deadpanned, rolling her eyes, “thanks for all the details, Stell. Truly, please, say no more…”

“But are you lying?” Dorothy flopped down onto Frank’s bed, leaning over to remove her heeled shoes as she rubbed the side of her foot, “Or did something really happen?”

“Thanks, Dot,” Frank shot her a look and Dorothy only grinned. 

“Consider it the first of many paybacks after today.”

Frank couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head as Dorothy continued to smile. “Cough it up,” Rose nudged her friend before taking a seat beside Dorothy on the bed, “what happened? What did you two do that had his CO so up in arms.”

“An interesting man,” Dorothy shook her head, “I couldn’t tell if I was getting a lecture or if he was reading from a script. I’ve never heard someone speak so passionately about their bomb group.”

“He was upset, then?”

“Oh, yes,” Dorothy nodded, “yes—but I’m used to dealing with hysterical men, so I just told him what he wanted to hear so he wouldn’t rupture a blood vessel or something. Very uptight—I’m not sure how he and Major Egan get along.”

“Something tells me not well,” Frank sighed, “I’m sorry…”

Dorothy waved her off, “So what’d you two do on the tarmac that had him so upset? You just strip naked right there or something?”

“No,” Frank snorted, “no—he kissed me. That’s all.”

“Huh…” Dorothy made a face, glancing over at Rose who only shrugged, “Where?”

“What do you mean where?”

“He was upset!” Dorothy shrugged, “Where’d he kiss you? On the tit or something?”

“On the lips!”

“Don’t get loud with me,” Dorothy said as Rose laughed, “I’ve never met a man so upset about just kissing.”

“It was a really good kiss…”

“Ok,” Rose pushed herself up, moving so her legs crossed under her, “ok—now we’re getting to the good part. Then what?”

“He took me to medical.”

Rose’s face fell and Dorothy snorted, shaking her head, “C’mon, Frank—let us have it. He took you to bed?”

“I took him to bed.”

“You did not,” Rose’s eyes widened comically. “Oh my God—tell me you’re not kidding, Frank. I'll die.”

“He took me to a pub just outside the base. I got a room, we talked a little over some drinks and then I took him upstairs.”

“Then what?” Rose pressed her hands together, “How many times?”

Dorothy held up a finger, “Did he wear a rubber?”

“Were you on top?”

Frank felt her cheeks warm as she sat down on the bed beside hers to better talk to the girls, “Three—yes—no.”

“Oh my God…” Rose fell back dramatically onto the pillows and Dorothy only chuckled at their friend’s theatrics, “I need a cigarette.”

“Tell me about it,” Frank continued to blush, glancing down at her fingers as she spun the gold ring around, “it was good, though. Really good. He was slow and we talked through it and it was really nice.”

“Nice?” Rose nearly scratched, “you did not just describe three different rounds of sex as nice. Nice is Dorothy letting you sleep in, or me letting you have my toast…”

“Rose…” 

“But it was!” Frank lowered her voice after it briefly reached a higher register, “It was really nice—really good. He was good and nice and…it was just nice.”

Rose rolled her eyes, “I’m so hot right now.”

“Let her be,” Dorothy patted Rose’s knee, “this is different for her, Rose.”

“I know,” Rose sighed, “but give me something else. What was it like? Did he last a while? Or was it like two pumps and he’s spent…?”

“Lord give me the strength,” Dorothy exhaled as she lifted her eyes to the ceiling before she leaned down to grab her shoe.

Frank shrugged, her entire face feeling very hot as she let her mind drift to what they did this morning, as well as the night before, images of Bucky between her legs making her neck flush, legs tingling as she thought about the way he'd kissed his way from her ankle to her stomach last night, “I don’t know what to say, Rose. It was wonderful in every way and I’m really satisfied.”

Dorothy smiled softly, “Good, we’re glad—”

“Was it back to back? Or over the whole night?”

“Back to back,” Frank pushed herself up from the bed and moved over to her trunk, not at all aware of the way Rose’s eyes zeroed in on her, “and then again this morning.”

“And you’re sore,” Rose scrambled off the bed, moving to sit on the trunk just as Frank tried to open it, “I can tell by the way you’re walking—oh my God, how big is he?”

“Rose!”

“By the way I’m walking?”

“Like you don’t wanna know!” Rose threw over her shoulder at Dorothy, eyes glued to Frank’s face, “You have a specific walk, and you’re not doing it right now. What are we talking here? Long or thick? Or both?”

“I’m not going to tell you that,” Frank laughed.

“Please?” Rose whined as she lifted her hand, forming a circle with her index and thumb, “like—how thick? Thicker than this?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Zucchini?” Rose pivoted her body as Frank moved away from her and towards her nightstand, shaking her head as Dorothy chuckled, busying herself with slipping on her shoe, “Or like—a yellow squash? Does he curve?”

“That is far too personal a question to ask her, Rose.”

“Shut up,” Rose swung her legs off the trunk, ignoring the commander, her entire focus on Frank, “or is it like corn on the cob? Thick and then lengthens out—”

“I’m going to vomit,” Dorothy got off the bed, shaking her head, “and we better not be having any of that at dinner tonight.”

“I once slept with a guy who had an eggplant,” Rose said, “it didn’t fit—like…we tried… a lot and I couldn’t get it to fit. Did you get it to fit?”

Frank cocked her head to the side, “It didn’t fit?”

“No,” Rose shook her head, “I was so sad too—he was so promising…could you fit your hand around him?”

“I’m leaving,” Dorothy moved towards the doorway before she paused and turned to look over her shoulder at Frank, “come see me when you’re done with whatever this is. We need to chat and you have to sign a few things.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Frank turned her attention back to Rose, the ginger wiggling her eyebrows playfully, “So…he went down, didn’t he?”

She only blushed.

Notes:

WE HAVE MEATBALL! So sorry for the delay, it was an eventful weekend and work has been a bit crazy, but hopefully this week settles down!

I can’t wait to read your thoughts!! Tell me everything!! I hope you enjoyed our newest chapter!!

(If you can’t wait for the next update, you should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here!)

Chapter 14: XIV.

XIV.

Frank weaved her way around the desks in the administration building about an hour later, freshly changed into her proper uniform, complete with heeled shoes and side hat. It itched her already dry scalp and Frank forced herself not to touch it again, in fear of moving it off her head and pulling the pins out. The last thing she needed was to appear a disheveled mess right now.

She found Dorothy hunched over her desk, scribbling something onto a piece of paper as she approached, the brunette gently rapped her knuckles on the desk to alert her CO of her arrival. 

“Finish with Rose?” Dorothy asked, glancing up before turning her attention back to the paper, scribbling her name at the bottom. 

“I think so,” Frank took a seat, perched on the edge of the chair, unsure of what was about to happen, with this probably being the most rigid she had ever sat in the seat, “but probably not if you ask her.” 

Dorothy hummed before she finished whatever it was she was doing, pen placed down on the desk as she turned her attention to Frank, “Where do you want to start?” 

“Where do we need to start?” 

“What happened with the Spitfire?” Dorothy asked, “I have…” the blonde paused to flip through some of the documentation on her desk, “thirteen bullet holes with two in the fuel tanks and one just on the edge of the engine.”

“I…” Frank sighed, squeezing her eyes closed as memories flooded her brain, “I flew over the Channel. I wasn’t looking for trouble, I just wanted to get some freedom. It’s beautiful and different from flying over the countryside.” 

“And also not your assignment,” Dorothy nudged the pen with her fingernail so it sat properly beside the paper, “and you admitted in your debrief to flying not only over the channel, but higher than we originally marked. Frank…” Dorothy shifted, her voice lowering, “you have to be careful. We’re hanging on by a thread and with Cochran back in the states, they’re doing anything and everything they can to end this program. We all know removing us from flying to the rest of the continent was just the first step. Men like Lee…they’re itching to prove something. Things like this…” Dorothy dug her fingernail into the stack of papers, leaving a half moon indentation on it, “…is what they’re looking for. You know I don’t care what you do, or who you do, but you have to keep it off the record.” 

“I was frazzled,” Frank nodded, eyes drifting down to stare at her uncomfortable shoes, “I wasn’t thinking, I was in shock and—and you’re right. I made a mistake…a few probably.” 

“You did.” Dorothy said, “And I need you to sign this.” 

Frank watched Dorothy spin around the top document, Frank scooting forward to lean an elbow on the desk, her heart sinking at seeing FORMAL WARNING stamped at the top just below Dorothy’s perfect handwriting. 

“I’m sorry—“ 

“Don’t skip your eval again,” Dorothy warned, “you’re lucky we’re both not in more trouble. I thought you took care of it.” 

“I wasn’t in the right head space.” 

“Which leads me to my next lecture,” Dorothy took the paper back from Frank after she signed it, scribbling her own name across the witness line, “he cannot interfere again. I know we’re at war—I know he flies sometimes, and him not calling or contacting you is absolutely terrible and maddening, but this cannot happen again. You cannot just fold up and not do your duty. That’s not you, you’re better than that. Do what you must, call or write, but things like your evaluations and training and check ups are a must. There is no exception as long as you wish to continue to fly with the ATA. You’re a skilled pilot, I know you are. You have a gift, but that gift needs to be evaluated. You could have hurt someone, yourself, the equipment…it would not have been a good situation, Frank. They almost took the B-17s away from you, but I pulled the last string I have. This cannot happen again.” 

“It won’t,” Frank shook her head, “I promise. I’ll get evaluated tomorrow and I won’t kiss him on the tarmac again—”

“I couldn’t care less where you kiss Major Egan,” Dorothy rolled her eyes, “that’s of no concern to me as your CO, I wish that was the only thing I had to deal with, we could all have a laugh and then move on to the pub while Rose tries to figure out how blessed you are now with Major Egan’s penis.”

Frank rolled her eyes, leaning back as she ran a hand across her face, “Regardless. I’m sorry. You didn’t need a call about that either.”

“The most entertaining part of my day, actually,” Dorothy sighed, “the least of my worries. Just try not to work him up too much, keep your tongue in your mouth or something…wait until you’re off the runway to snog him.” Frank only blushed and Dorothy chuckled softly, “But, as your friend…” Dorothy leaned forward on the desk, eyebrows lifting as she shifted out of Commanding Officer and into friend, “It went well?”

“Very well,” Fank nodded, fighting with the smile that wanted to appear across her face, “yeah—we talked a bit and he was super receptive to everything.”

“Everything…” Dorothy glanced down at Frank’s left hand pointedly, “including that everything?”

“Everything,” Frank said with a short nod, thumb and index finger automatically running across the bare ring finger of her left hand, a very thin scar along the inside of her finger where she was cut by the engagement ring after her ex-husband tried to force it off her finger in the last fight they had, “there’s some details we still probably need to discuss, but he knows the outline and that story.”

“How’d he respond?”

“Completely unphased,” Frank couldn’t help but laugh briefly, rolling her eyes slightly at the memory of him not the least bit concerned about her past, “so unbothered.”

“Good,” Dorothy pushed herself out of her chair, Frank moving to stand after, “I would accept nothing less.”

Dorothy motioned Frank to walk with her, the girls leaving the administration building together a few moments later, “Are you in trouble about the flight plan…? You falsified—”

“No one knows,” Dorothy lowered her voice, keeping their discussion just between them, eyeing the area around them for any potential eavesdroppers, “and we’ll keep it that way. Something you and I are going to take to the grave.”

“And Rose.”

Dorothy exhaled, nodding as she lifted her eyes to the sky, “And Rose. Thankfully she knows how to keep a secret.”

“Speaking of,” Frank said, “she very much wants us to all go to the pub tonight. What time will Amelia be back?”

“Not until tomorrow,” Dorothy shook her head, “but we can go, if you don’t mind being asked over and over and over again how big John Egan’s todger is.”

“She can ask all she wants,” Frank looped her arm through Dorothy’s, the girls moving down the pathway towards the dormitories, “there’s no vegetable equivalent.” 

Dorothy only threw her head back and laughed.

---

Just under two hundred miles to the west, Bucky found himself in a similar conversation as he made his way from the quarters to the officers' mess, Buck opting to walk instead of ride their bikes in the damp weather. While Bucky knew Buck was suspicious of the bikes, he was also fairly certain that Buck wanted that time to chat just the two of them, his friend having been rather quiet since the girls took off hours ago. 

“Let me get this straight,” Buck twirled the toothpick between his lips, glancing over at Bucky as the boys walked, “you land out here…two—three weeks ago and fall head over heels for someone you just met? After spending the night with Marge’s best friend?”

Bucky shrugged, “Penny knew it was just a one-night thing…”

“Well that’s good, since her name is Peggy.”

“Fuck.” Bucky ran a hand down his face, “C’mon, Buck. You know how it was. I wasn’t even thinkin’ about that then. She knew it, she never asked for more. We both got what we wanted. Where’s the harm in that?”

“So, then walk me through this thing,” Buck motioned with two fingers, frowning slightly, “you land and…then what?”

“Well—then I hooked up with a girl named Lil…”

“Shit, John…”

“I know,” John waved him off, “I know. I can’t help myself. I met Frank a few days later, she ferried in a B-17, and when she climbed out of the fort I forgot my damn name.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before,” Buck shook his head, moving to slip his hands into the pockets of his jacket as Bucky hummed beside him, the blonde glancing sideways at his best friend. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before,” Bucky said slowly, eyes turned downward towards the dirt and mud they walked over, eyebrows furrowing just slightly, “I’m tellin’ you Buck—she’s something else.”

“I can see that,” Buck continued to observe his friend with both curiosity and disbelief. Three weeks ago his best friend left after spending the night with his girl’s school friend, and Buck only assumed in the weeks after his friend had done more of the same. Curt always seemed to be right when he told them that tigers don’t change their stripes, and yet here was Bucky, very much looking like a different tiger than the one Buck last saw back in the states. “What’s her name again?”

“Stella,” even the way it fell from his lips told Buck his friend was smitten, “Stella Frank—but she goes by Frank. S’what everyone calls her.”

“Frank,” Buck glanced up at the cloudy sky but saw nothing but air, “strong name.”

Bucky only grinned, eyes continuing to look forward, “She’d kick my ass if I let her.”

Buck laughed at that, nudging his friend with his elbow, “Somethin’ tells me she would anyway.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Bucky shook his head, kicking a stray rock with the toe of his boot, “fuck—she’s all I think about, Buck.”

“Yeah?” Buck turned his head to look at the taller man with interest, wanting to see his friend’s face when he asked this next question, “think you’re in love?”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed, nodding, “yeah, I think I am. Think I have been.”

“Good for you, John,” Buck nodded, “I’m glad—you deserve a nice girl.” Bucky slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket, head lifting to look out at the area in front of him, taking in the huts and the jeeps, various men in uniform moving around either on their way to dinner or on their way back from. “How does she feel?”

“About me?”

“About…” Buck motioned into thin air with his toothpick, “the whole situation.”

“I think she likes me…” Bucky squinted, brain sorting through memories of the night before and earlier this morning, “she said as much last night.”

“Well, that’s good,” Buck’s dimple popped as he gave his best friend a half smile, “nothing worse than a one-sided attraction.”

“Nah—I don’t think it’s one sided,” Bucky shook his head, “she keeps her cards close to the vest, and she’s got a wicked sense of humor that had me guessing for awhile, but I think I’m starting to break down some walls.”

“Just go easy,” Buck said, hand sliding back into his jacket pocket, “walls are there for a reason.”

“She’s been married before,” Bucky nodded, eyes lifting upwards. He hadn’t had much time on his own to process the bomb Frank dropped on him the night before. He wasn’t lying when he told her he didn’t care. He didn’t—or at least not in the sense that he cared she was divorced. He was more upset with how she was treated—being handed over to someone like property and forced into a marriage he wasn’t quite sure she even wanted. It was hard to imagine her in that situation now—the girl he knew wouldn’t settle for anything less than “yes captain” or “no ma’am,” let alone an arranged and loveless marriage. Fuck—he wasn’t even sure he could see her being ordered around like that. Quiet and obedient were not words he would use to describe her. Ever. 

 “Yeah?” Buck seemed to hover over the word, glancing sideways at his friend, “How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t care,” Bucky shook his head, “she’s divorced now.”

“So she cheated…”

“It’s not like that,” Bucky said, exhaling softly, “it was a complicated situation. I’m pretty sure he was physical with her and I think she was just trying to get out however she could.”

“There’s a special place in hell for husbands who touch their wives like that.”

“Mmm,” Bucky kicked a stray rock, “I slept with her last night.”

“I gathered as much,” Buck adjusted the belt around his jacket, hand running along the buckle, “good night?”

“Great night,” Bucky poked his tongue into his cheek, glancing over at his friend to see Buck already look at him, “great morning too.”

“This isn’t like other times, Bucky,” Buck warned with a firm look. “If you’re really head over heels for her, I do have to see her again. So don’t be sharing anything like—”

“We had sex three times, I ran out of condoms.” 

“—that.” Buck waved his hand between them, “I gotta look her in the eye—don’t be tellin’ me stuff like that.”

“What’s the difference between fucking and making love?”

“John—”

“No, I’m serious,” Bucky laughed softly, resting his hand on Buck’s shoulder before he wrapped his arm around his friend's neck, pulling him closer so they could keep the discussion between them, “you’re the only person I know who probably just makes love and—”

“Get off,” Buck shoved his friend away, rolling his eyes, “don’t make it weird. I’m not telling you anything about that.”

“I think I made love to her,” Bucky ran his hands through his hair before dragging them down his face, “it felt like I did, at least.”

“That’s the difference,” Buck gave him a look as they approached the mess, “if it felt like it—you did.”

---

“I can’t have another drink,” Frank waved her hand in front of her as Rose made her way back from the bar towards the table Frank and Dorothy were holding down. 

“Try this one,” Rose placed the cocktail down in front of her, the coupe glass a gorgeous shade of lavender, the cloudy liquid already forming condensation on the glass, “you’ll love it.”

“What is it?”

“Just try it—please,” Rose placed one down in front of Dorothy, saving the third and final for herself as Dorothy brought it to the edge of the table and sniffed it. 

“It smells like lemon.”

“There’s lemon in it,” Rose took a seat beside Dorothy, “drink it.”

“I don’t normally have more than two drinks on a weeknight,” Dorothy lifted the cocktail glass before sipping it slowly, nodding her approval once the alcohol touched her taste buds, “but it’s been a hell of a day.”

Rose lifted the glass, tapping it against Frank’s untouched one, “I’ll drink to that.”

“You’ll drink because the day ends in a ‘Y.'” Frank shot her a pointed look before she picked up the glass and sipped it slowly, “Is this gin?”

“Yes,” Rose took another healthy sip before leaning back in her chair, “it’s called an Aviation cocktail—I thought it was fitting.”

“That is fitting,” Dorothy placed her glass back on the table, hand lifting to swipe along her eyebrow, “I’m exhausted.”

Rose hummed, her attention shifting across the table to Frank before a slow smile fell across her lips, “I bet you’re exhausted too.”

Frank tilted her head back in exasperation and Dorothy laughed softly into her drink, “Why did I think we were done with this questioning?”

“Tell me how big he is.”

“No,” Frank laughed, shaking her head, “absolutely not. New topic.”

“Uh—no,” Rose shook her head, “that’s now how this works…you had mind blowing sex and I want the details.”

“Mind blowing?” Dorothy’s eyebrows lifted, “Oh dear—was your mind truly blown, Frank?”

Frank only shrugged, sipping her cocktail slowly so her mouth was busy, Rose scoffing once she realized what her friend was doing. “You have to tell us something,” Rose all but hissed across the table, “friends share. I told you when the pilot from Wales wanted to try a—”

“Ok.” Dorothy cut her friend off quickly, waving her hand between the girls, “ok—no. No, no. I cannot listen to that again. Frank—tell her something. Anything, so we can move on from this.”

“I’ve never orgasmed before,” Frank said very quietly, not wanting anyone nearby to overhear the conversation. 

Rose’s lips parted in shock, her jaw completely unhinging as she stared back at her friend across the table, eyes wide. Dorothy shifted in her chair as Rose reached across the table to run her fingers along the top of Frank’s hand, “Never?”

“Not by…someone else,” Frank shook her head, feeling her face warm slightly, “until him.”

“Oh my fucking God,” Rose nearly knocked her glass over, “you’ve never orgasmed before? Who the fuck have you been sleeping with?”

“Ok.” Dorothy shot her friend a pointed look, “Perhaps that’s not the important part of the story, Rose…”

“Right,” Rose shook her head, clearly having to reset herself after Frank’s abrupt news, “ok…he got you off…that’s great. Really…I…but what did the other guys even do if they weren’t trying to get you off?”

Dorothy pressed a hand to her face and Frank could only smile softly before she said, “Trying to make themselves orgasm…?”

“Got it,” Rose tossed one of her curls over her shoulder, “ok—I’m gonna need a roster for research purposes so I never find myself behind a pub with one of them.”

Dorothy made a face, eyeing her friend in confusion, “Does that happen often…?”

“More often than you’d think,” Rose shook her head, “but I always get mine. Even if I have to take over for a minute.”

Dorothy choked on her next sip, “This is way more than I ever need to know about your sex life…”

“But he made you come.” Rose ignored Dorothy’s scandalized look at the bold word choice, “Multiple times…right?”

“Yes…”

“How many?” Rose leaned her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand, “Did you get a headache? I’ve gotten a headache before after the first dozen—”

“No headache,” Frank chuckled softly with a shake of her head, “I—didn’t even know that was a thing.”

“You’ll get there.” Rose waved her off, “I have a feeling he’ll take you there. He had to have gone down. You didn’t answer me earlier and I’m dying to know if he did.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol, or the way Rose was staring at her dead serious, but Frank ended up nodding, her cheeks and neck warming considerably at both the memory and the confession, “A few times, actually.”

Rose melted back in her chair, head tilted back and Dorothy laughed into her drink, rolling her eyes at their friends' dramatics. “That’s the best,” Rose exhaled a little too breathy, Dorothy eyeing her with suspicion, “the fingers and the nose…he's got a good nose, doesn't he?”

“Rose…” Dorothy warned.

Rose pushed herself away from the table, fumbling to drown the rest of her cocktail before she stood from her chair, “I need to go find someone to practice with—don’t wait for me. I’ll meet you back at base.”

Frank couldn’t help but laugh as they watched their friend disappear into the crowded pub, the two finishing their drinks before she and Dorothy made their way back to Ratcliffe. They chatted on and off about mundane things, and it wasn’t until they were back in their building that Dorothy gave her a knowing look, “Don’t stay up too late—you have your eval in the morning.”

“Yes, mom.”

Dorothy winked before she continued down the hall, disappearing into their dormitory a moment later as Frank reached for the phone. Her brain was just a little buzzed, but thankfully the cooler air and walk back from the pub had sobered her up enough that she wasn’t concerned about calling someone else by accident. 

Eventually, after a brief conversation with the operator, Frank heard Bucky’s familiar voice come through the phone, her insides warming and flipping simultaneously. “Hi,” Frank mentally palmed herself in the face for the brilliant way she greeted him, and she could almost see the smile on his face. 

“Hi,” Bucky hummed back, “I was getting worried you might not call…was looking for a Spitfire to fly to you in…”

“Ha-ha,” Frank rolled her eyes as he chuckled, “you’re so funny.”

“I like to think so,” Bucky leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming on his desk as he happily accepted Frank’s distraction, pushing away the forms he was going over. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” Frank leaned against the wall, “I was interrogated when I got back, and then lectured and reprimanded before I was questioned again.”

“About the landing?” Bucky shook his head as he grimaced, “or the kiss…?”

“About you,” Frank said, “Rose has been all over me today.”

Bucky laughed and she could imagine the way his eyes would crinkle, wide grin across his face, “Well…I’m glad you didn’t have a more serious lecture.”

“Oh—I did,” Frank shook her head, “don’t worry. I had to sign my formal warning and Dorothy lectured me for a few minutes on the importance of keeping up with my evaluations and training. But, other than that, it doesn’t seem like anything else mattered too much…”

“Good.” Bucky nodded, “Although, I hate that you got a warning, I’m glad you’re not in any more trouble.”

“Me too,” Frank’s fingers ran down the metal cord, “I almost lost the B-17s, so I’m glad that didn’t happen.”

Bucky groaned, “Fuck—I don’t know what I’d do if that happened.” He shook his head, “I’d have to take leave and come see you every other weekend.”

Frank felt her heart warm at his words, not realizing how much she needed that reassurance, part of her just slightly concerned that he wouldn’t want to see her if she couldn’t fly to him, “Do you even get that much leave?”

“I’ll just go AWOL, then.”

Frank laughed, “You would not.”

“I would too.” Bucky laughed with her, “Watch me—I’ll find every excuse to get to you. I’ve had a taste, doll, and I’m not letting you go.” Frank continued to laugh, “Unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” she all but whispered, shaking her head, “I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Then I won’t.” His voice dropped to match hers, “I don't want to either.”

Several long seconds of silence passed between them before Frank cleared her throat, bringing the atmosphere back into less heated waters, “I have my evaluation tomorrow, but then I should be flying in on Tuesday as long as I pass.”

“Good,” Bucky went with her subject change, nodding, “I still have you down on my end—I look forward to seeing you come in. Makes me tingle.”

Frank laughed and he continued to smile as she shook her head, “Keep your tingles to yourself, I’m worried your CO might panic if he knew that.”

“Yeah—I’ll keep ‘em at bay until you get here.” Bucky shifted, “Where else are you flying between now and then?”

“Probably nowhere,” Frank said, “the evaluation will take all morning and I’ll be put at the bottom of the pool by the time I get that wrapped up. So, I’d be surprised if I flew anywhere before Tuesday.”

“No more flights along the coast?”

Frank hummed, “I was waiting for you to bring that up.”

“I was going to this morning, but you distracted me.”

“I don’t know,” Frank said honestly, “I didn’t ask Dorothy, but she also didn’t say anything about me being taken off them. So, there’s a chance I could. Is that a…problem?”

“No,” Bucky shook his head, “no—I just…don’t want you looking for trouble.”

“I wasn’t looking—”

“Hey—hey,” Bucky interrupted her much louder words, sitting forward in his chair once he realized he’d said the wrong thing and hit a trigger, “I didn’t mean it that way. Let me start over.” 

Frank inhaled but didn’t respond, feeling her heart quicken just a bit in anger. 

“I don’t want you unfocused on these missions,” Bucky said, moving quickly through his next thought as she opened her mouth to dispute his statement, “don’t lie to me—I know you were. You told me as much. These are important flights, you need to be focused on that and not me.”

“But—”

“Stella,” Frank closed her eyes at the use of her real name, “I’m serious. Your focus needs to be on flying, not on me. I don’t have any plans on going up again anytime soon, but if I do and you’re flying the same day…promise me you’ll be safe.”

“Promise me the same.” Frank shook her head, “If you go up again, promise me you’ll be ok.”

Bucky exhaled softly, “Doll—I can’t promise that.”

“Then don’t make me,” Frank said softly, “Dorothy already spoke to me about it…I won’t be back in that headspace again, but I can’t promise to be safe if something were to happen. I can just promise to do the best I can.”

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Bucky’s voice dropped further and Frank felt it down to her toes, memories of that same tone whispered in her ear in the early morning hours, “just be as safe as you can be, alright? You’re smart—you’re good. You deserve this.”

“I’ll do my best,” Frank leaned her shoulder against the wall, really wishing she could see his face right now, “I’ll try to give you a heads up, but I might not be able to depending on how fast they come through. But I’ll try to call you when I’m back and safe.”

“No news is good news,” Bucky said, “alright? Same goes for you—I’ll do what I can if I go up, and know that I will find a way to get in contact with you once I’m back.”

Frank wanted to ask what she should do if he didn’t…if there was news that wasn’t good, but she refused to let herself dwell on that thought. Things were early, things were new, and the last thing she wanted to think about as Bucky changed the subject was him not coming back to her.

Notes:

Rose asking the important questions again! Hahahaha. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! We should take a trip back to East Anglia next chapter! Let me know what you think, I can't wait to read your thoughts!

(And, as always, if you can’t wait for the next update, you should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here!)

Chapter 15: XV

XV.

Frank was in the process of peppering her eggs when Rose unceremoniously flopped down into the chair across from her, Dorothy lifting her head from the article in the newspaper she was reading. “Good morning, Rose.” 

“Morning,” Rose yawned, moving to rest her elbows on the table as she ran her fingers across her temples, “is it just me—or is the room spinning?”

Frank glanced around theatrically at the officers’ mess, eyeing the tables and chairs, as well as the people sitting at them before she turned back to Rose and shook her head, “Just you.” 

Dorothy snorted softly, “Long night?”

“I think so,” Rose reached across the table for Frank’s cup of coffee, not even stopping when Frank tried to swat her hand away, the redhead taking a healthy sip as her friend looked on in annoyance, “I lost count after the third martini.” 

“After our two cocktails?”

“Mhmm,” Rose leaned back in her chair, shaking her head to clear of the fog, “I think I got back after three or so.”

“Just as long as you didn’t get caught sneaking back in.” 

Rose shook her head no, stifling a yawn as she waved the server over, the man bringing with him another cup of coffee to replace Frank’s stolen one, Rose attempting to give Frank back her former one, but the brunette wouldn’t have it, instead confiscating the freshly poured cup for herself. “Have you ever been with a guy who wanted you to suck on his nipples?” 

Frank dodged the coffee as it landed abruptly on the table, splashes of brown dotting the table cloth and she only sent the server an apologetic look before he apologized profusely and left almost as quickly as he came. 

“Rose.” 

“Like—suck how?”

“Frank.” 

“Full on suction, I think?” Rose shrugged as she ran a hand across the top of her hair, feeling like she had little bits sticking up from brushing and pining it so quickly this morning, “I don’t know, their nipples just aren’t really big enough for that…so it’s like licking a flat pebble.” 

“Oh my God,” Dorothy shook her head, “we aren’t going to be allowed to eat in here anymore.” 

“I mean…” Frank tilted her head, running through the men she’d been with and the things they either asked her to do or wanted to do to her, “No, I don’t think so. I did have a guy try on my stockings once. And then he ripped them, so I made him pay for them…but then it felt kinda like I was just a call girl, because he had to fish out the money while I got dressed, so…”

Rose laughed, shaking her head and Dorothy smiled in amusement, “No sucking for Major Eagan?” 

“Not that he’s requested.” 

Rose paused, cup hovering in mid air as she eyed the brunette across the table, “I think I’m going to need detailed notes. Because that sounds like—” 

“We’re eating,” Dorothy waved her fork around her plate for emphasis, “can we please not discuss this at the breakfast table?”

“After Frank tells me how many times she orgasmed.”

“Rose.”

Rose rolled her eyes at Dorothy’s tone but nearly dropped her jaw when Frank held up six fingers, “I need details. Now.” Frank waved her off as Dorothy sent Rose a warning look as their server made his way over with a plate for Rose, “You’re no fun,” Rose moved some of her eggs around before spearing one of the sausages. “Are we flying today?”

“You are,” Dorothy dabbed her mouth as she finished chewing, glancing over at Frank, “she’s not—Frank will be busy most of the morning and potentially early afternoon.”

“I’m so excited too,” Frank sipped the much hotter coffee as Rose snickered, “I can’t wait to spend the morning with Joe and Maggie.”

“Leave Maggie out of this,” Rose smiled, “you think she wants to fly with old Joe all the time? She’s probably aching for some adventure.”

“You better not give it to her,” Dorothy warned. “Your evaluation better be absolutely perfect—nothing out of place.”

“It’ll be great,” Frank placed her cup down onto it’s matching saucer, “the best I’ve done so far.”

“This is your first year evaluation…”

“Like I said,” Frank smiled and Dorothy exhaled slowly, “best I’ve done.”

“Alright,” Dorothy pushed herself into a standing position, “I’m off to a meeting—bring me your paperwork when you’re done. It needs to be stamped and filed immediately, no later than the end of today.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Dorothy tapped her nose before she left the girls at the table, Rose turning her full attention to Frank once their CO was out of the building. “So…”

“Amelia has an admirer,” Frank said before Rose could get too carried away with her next line of questioning that was no doubt going to be about Frank’s sex life, “when she dropped off the Magister at Thorpe Abbotts. One of the pilots pulled her aside.”

Rose’s eyebrows lifted curiously, “Amelia? What did she do?”

The corner of Frank’s lip lifted as she thought back to Amelia blowing off the man named DeMarco for herself and the dog, “I think they talked for like…a minute before she was moving around him to talk to me…and eventually his dog.”

“He has a dog?” Rose lifted her head, “What kind of dog?”

“No idea,” Frank shook her head, “but he’s super sweet and fluffy.”

“The dog or the guy?”

“The dog.”

Rose drummed her fingers along the table cloth, “I think I need to make a trip out to Thorpe Abbotts soon. It’s not fair that you and Amelia both have pilots now.”

“Amelia doesn’t have a pilot,” Frank shook her head. “You know how she is—she has no interest in anything serious…or anything at all really. She just wants to fly.”

“She’ll be a senior commander soon enough,” Rose leaned back after taking a bite of her toast, “Probably running the whole damn thing by the time this war is over...at the very least be on every poster.”

“If it’s ever over…”

“Mmm,” Rose nodded her head from one side to the other, “it does feel never ending, doesn’t it?”

“We’ve only been in a year,” Frank placed her fork across her plate, moving to rest her chin in the palm of her hand as her opposite hand fiddled with the handle, “but what do we do when this is over?”

Rose shrugged, shaking her head, “Beats the hell out of me. Drink?”

Frank only laughed.

---

At just after two in the afternoon did Frank finally have her signed evaluation in hand, the brunette making her way from the tarmac to the administration building, fully intending to get the paperwork to Dorothy as soon as possible when she heard her name from somewhere behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that one of her fellow ATA pilots was making his way towards her. George Davidson was a little older and a lot more experienced, the man being one of the few that helped found British Airways before flying early on in the war where he lost his arm after his station went under heavy bombings. The poor guy was caught between a door and the floor for hours and by the time they got to him, they were unable to save the appendage. 

Frank wasn’t sure she could fly without her right hand—she wasn’t sure she could do anything without her right hand, so she couldn’t help but admire George as he made his way towards her, his uniformed shirt sleeve flapping from the breeze where his arm would have been. “Afternoon,” Frank greeted back, smiling as he approached, hand running across his sweaty forehead, “Did you just get back?”

“Yeah—I just dropped a fighter in France, it was a bit of a touch and go,” George came to a stop a few feet away from her, “I heard about your little scare the other day. Things over the channel can be a little bumpy—are you alright?”

“Yeah—fine,” Frank nodded, “it was a…misunderstanding.”

“I’ve had a few misunderstandings in my lifetime too,” George wiggled his eyebrow and Frank laughed, shaking her head.

“Something tells me we’re not talking about the same misunderstandings.”

“You never know,” George nodded forward and the two began walking down the pathway, “I was young once.”

“You’re hardly over forty,” Frank rolled her eyes and George chuckled loudly, “and you fly a plane one handed—I would never call you old.”

“The temptation of the channel is too great sometimes,” he smiled over at her. “Are you flying today?”

“Not today, no,” Frank shook her head, “I just got done with my evaluation and I doubt I’ll be flying the rest of the weekend.”

“Ah—then this might be some good news,” George nodded, “I was actually going to invite you on a transport with me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah—I’ve been assigned a taxi tomorrow morning and I think you’d be perfect for the co-pilot job.” George paused as they approached the administration building, “The first leg’s from London to Manchester, if you’re interested.”

“Leg?” Frank lifted an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued, “How many are there?”

“Ohhh…” George took a step back, smile wide, “About half a dozen or so.”

“Half a dozen?” Frank’s eyes widened, “What the hell kind of transport is this?”

“Get Dot’s permission,” was all George said as he took another few steps back, “and I’ll see you in London.”

Frank waved to Geroge, despite feeling incredibly confused before she entered the administration building and made her way back to Dorothy’s desk, noting that this was probably the most she’d visited her friend and CO in months. “I’m all official again,” Frank greeted Dorothy as she placed the paper down on the desk, Dorothy reaching for it immediately. “So you won’t get into any more trouble.”

“Lovely,” Dorothy stamped it quickly before signing it along the empty line just waiting for her signature, “thank you—glad to see you passed.”

“How embarrassing would that have been if I hadn’t?” Frank sat down, crossing one leg over the other as she glanced over her shoulder, making sure they had a bit of privacy.

“I think we’d both be dismissed if you hadn’t.” Dorothy filed the paper away in her desk before placing the pen cap back onto the writing instrument, “Where are you off to now? I think Amelia is back…”

“I actually just finished an interesting conversation with George.”

“George Davidson?”

“The one and only,” Frank nodded, “he invited me on a transport tomorrow.”

Dorothy reached for the bound book on her desk, flipping open the hard cover to skim the first few pages before she flipped rapidly to somewhere in the middle, “Yes—the first leg of the trip is London to Manchester.”

“He said I’d need your permission…” Frank lifted her eyebrows, “who am I transporting? The King?”

Dorothy snorted, “You’d be so lucky. No… no. It’s much bigger than that…” Frank watched as Dorothy glanced over her book to look at her again, eyes raking across Frank in a way that made her just a little self conscious, “You know…this might actually be a great opportunity for you.”

“What? The transport?” Frank frowned, “We do those all the time…”

“Not like this, we don't.” Dorothy closed the book before moving to her feet, “Up—up. We need to get you to Maidenhead before nightfall. I think I’ve got a ferry heading that way that you can join…then we’ll put you on a train to London to stay the night.”

“Stay the night?” Frank shook her head as she hurried after Dorothy, “Wait—Maidenhead?”

Dorothy paused once they were outside the building, reaching forward to grab onto Frank’s jacket where she brushed her thumb along a oil stain the Captain had no doubt gotten sometime over the last handful of months, “Yes—we’ll need to make sure your uniform is absolutely perfect before tomorrow. Go pack—I want curls, lipstick, and stockings. Two pairs, in case you rip. Boots and heels.”

“Wha—”

“No time to stand around,” Dorothy hurried down the pathway, “come along—we’ll discuss on the way.”

---

Just about thirty miles outside of London was the town of Maidenhead and Frank had never felt so nervous as one of her fellow ATA pilots, Earle Nicol, flew along the River Thames, weaving in and out of the Barrage Balloons as they went. Earle was a few years older than she was and had been in England for several years now. Originally born in Mahagama, Ceylon, Earle was one of the first people not from the US or England that she met after arriving. He was stationed elsewhere, but frequented Ratcliffe to see a few of the friends he’d made in the years since joining and she often saw him around the pubs. He flew the Miles Master well, although Frank thought perhaps just a little too well, making the plane dip and dive in and out at speeds she wouldn’t have been as comfortable flying in. The boys were all the same—as soon as they had a girl in the plane with them it was hands off the wheel, full speed ahead. She wasn’t sure if it was to impress or scare, but they all did it. Rose joked once, after one of their early training sessions, that she assumed they did it because it was the only time their dicks got hard. The woman between them had gasped, cheeks tinting, and that’s when Frank knew they’d be fast friends.

Thankfully, Earle landed the Master easily enough in the small town of Maidenhead, the headquarters of the Air Transport Auxiliary. At least four or five months had gone by since Frank last found herself at headquarters, much preferring to stay anway and in her own ferry pool with Dorothy and the girls. The last time she was here was when she and Dorothy accompanied a taxi for a retirement party, one of their commanders was pregnant and returning to the United States to be with her mother and sisters while her husband continued piloting in England. Once the party wrapped, the girls took the train into London, saw a show, and then Frank pretended she didn’t notice Dorothy sneaking out of the hotel that evening, dressed in a very pretty dress.

This time was different, however, because Frank was just getting her uniform inspected for whatever the hell was about to happen in the morning. Although excited, Dorothy was fairly tight lipped about the whole affair and the only information Frank had was that she’d be flying to a handful of towns tomorrow and to be prepared to fly from sunrise to sunset.

“How’d you like the Master?” Although his voice was accented, it was different than Dorothy’s, Earle climbing out of the plane after her, helmet under his harm as he waited expectantly. “It handles well, huh?”

“It’s the RAF’s trainer plane, right?” Frank ran her fingers along the edge of one of the wings, eyeing the big white number painted along its body.

“I think every RAF pilot started in one,” Earle nodded, motioning her forward as they walked down the runway, “it’s because they handle so similarly to the Spitfires and Hurricanes, if you ever get inside one of them, you’ll have to compare.”

Frank snorted, “Yeah—I’ll have to remember that.” While similar, nothing could prepare someone for flying a Supermarine Spitfire other than a Supermarine Spitfire. The Miles Master could try to emulate the authority and power that came in a Spitfire, but at the end of the day, the Master was just a toy compared to the fighter.

“How long are you in Maidenhead for?”

“Just a few hours,” Frank slipped her bag over her shoulder, helmet in the opposite hand, “I’m getting fitted for a new blazer and a new hat and then I’ll be on my way to London.”

“Wish I was heading to London,” Earle shook his head, “I haven’t been for a bit—they’ve had me primarily up north. It’s too bad you’re not staying more than a few hours—we could get a drink and perhaps some dinner…I hear there’s some dancing down at the new pub off of Park…”

Frank only hummed, watching the ground transition from the tarmac to the concrete walkway, “How’s your wife? Is she still in Oxford?”

“Cambridge,” Earle corrected her, the tone of their conversation shifting dramatically as he rubbed the back of his neck, “and yes—she’s doing well.”

“I haven’t seen Doreen since last Christmas,” Frank nudged the sidewalk, “you’ll have to tell her hello for me next time you see her.”

“Yes…yes, I’ll do that.”

The truth was Earle and Doreen were probably heading towards separation—Doreen had hinted as much during one of the parties both women attended. Earle had a wandering eye and Doreen had started to notice, keeping an eye on her husband as he flirted across the room with a few of the young, fresh faced ATA pilots.

“Thank you for the ride,” Frank nodded her head to Earle as he paused near one of the buildings not too far from the tarmac, “safe travels tomorrow.”

Earle reached over to squeeze her arm before smiling widely at her, “Same to you, Frank, have fun in London. We’ll catch up soon.”

Frank physically shook off the unpleasant feeling she had across her shoulders and arms when she entered the building. A few of the seamstresses that worked tirelessly with the ATA looked up upon her arrival, one of the older ones snorting under her breath before she looked back down at the skirt she was hemming. “A pretty thing like you—I’m sure you’ll keep him up all night.”

“The only thing that should be keeping him up all night is his wife,” Frank dropped the bag onto the floor before shrugging and stepping out of her coveralls. “Did you happen to get a call from Commander Skylar a few hours ago…?”

“Skylar…” The younger of the two women stood, knees creaking as she crossed the distance to the table, fingers gliding along a notebook they had beside a phone, “Yes—you’re Stella Frank?”

It took everything Frank had not to correct the woman with her title. “That’s me.”

“Have you gained weight since your last fitting?”

If she were to ask Nurse Margaret at Ratcliffe, the answer was yes, but Frank tugged on the end of her jacket anyway, “It’s always been a little loose—perhaps I’ve lost a few.”

The truth was, Frank had lost a few since she arrived. Poor eating habits, combined with long days and the desire to change her life from her previous one had left her down several pounds. However, neither of the two women believed her, exchanging looks between them before they motioned her over to take her measurements. 

Frank ended up with the same size jacket she had before, loose material bunching around her shoulders, making her look more boxy than she wanted. The women took her old jacket, one of them telling the other they would repurpose it for someone “smaller” and Frank only rolled her eyes, leaving the building and making her way towards the jeep waiting to take her to the train station. 

The drive was quick, and she caught the train just before it departed, spending the time dozing against the window, hoping that she could get to the hotel quickly. Waking up early for her evaluation had made the day incredibly long, and she hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast—the brunette desperate for her bed and something to eat. The train was just under an hour and Frank made her way quickly down the sidewalk, knowing she didn’t want to be out after dark. She didn’t have a flashlight on her and the last time she found herself in London after dark, without light, she was lost for blocks.

The hotel was decent when she checked in, the girl behind the counter happily handing over a room key before telling her the car would be by to pick her up just after six tomorrow morning. Confused as to what kind of car would be coming to get her, Frank took the stairs up to her floor and found her room easily. It had a beautiful view of the street and the park directly across from it, and if she craned her neck just a little she could make out the shadowed edge of a pond. Her stomach grumbled at her unhappily, but Frank allowed herself to stand in front of the window for just a few more moments, mind briefly straying to the station about a hundred miles to the north—wondering what her Major was doing. She didn’t have time to phone him before she left, and she only hoped that he wasn’t too concerned that she hadn’t called. 

Frank drew the heavy curtains a moment later, not wanting any light to escape from the small lamp in the corner before she changed into something less restrictive than her uniform and freshened up in the attached bathroom. She ate the hot plate the hotel provided her, inhaling her food before making her way down the hall where she spotted a phone earlier.

She took a seat on the patterned armchair a few doors down from her own hotel room, legs crossing as she waited for the operators to connect her, and when they did she was surprised to hear a bit of music in the background before the familiar voice that she was starting to grow fond of came over the line, “This better be my pilot.” 

“Good evening, Major.” 

“God, I love the sound of that,” Bucky grinned and she could tell by his voice he was happy, “I tried callin’ about an hour ago, but they said you were on a train.”

“I was,” Frank nodded, leaning back against the cushions, “I’m in London.”

“London?” Bucky asked, jazz music continuing to play in the background, “Overnight?” 

“Mhmm,” Frank nodded, although he couldn’t see it. "I'm—"

Before she was able to finish her thought, a loud voice came from Bucky's side of the call, and while she couldn't make out all of the words, she did manage to catch, "But does she have any friends?"

"Ignore Curt," the sound of Bucky shoving his friend away echoed next and Frank chuckled softly, "he's been hounding me all day."

“Tell Curt I said hello.”

“She says hi, go away,” Bucky’s words were quick and pointed and Frank smiled softly, “you were saying…?”

“What about that pilot that flew in…what was her name again…?”

“Fuck,” Bucky grunted, and Frank heard more shuffling before Bucky returned, just barely out of breath, “alright—this should be better.”

“Where did you go?” Frank shook her head, “You’re attached by a cord—and where are you anyway…?”

“At the officers lounge,” Bucky smiled as he leaned against the bar, “but I hopped the bar and now I’m with the bartender. Although he doesn’t look too happy…”

Frank laughed, “I can let you go…”

“No—no, no,” Bucky leaned back against it, lifting the cord so the bartender could move under it, “I’m fine. And Fred’s fine—right Fred?”

A distant, “Sure” came over the phone a second later, followed by Bucky’s own chuckle.

“Make sure to give him a few coins.”

“We’ll see if he spills anything on me.” Frank snorted, rolling her eyes playfully, “You’re in London…?”

“Overnight, yes,” Frank nodded, “I’m at a very nice hotel…I think it’s called Flemmings…or something with an F.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Bucky said, “I haven’t been yet. Wish I was there now, though.”

“That would be nice,” Frank ran her finger along the seam of her trousers, “I would have let you know, but I found out myself just a few hours ago.”

“That’s alright,” Bucky smiled in return, moving the receiver from one ear to the other, “I’ll get down there one day, as long as you come with me.”

“That sounds very nice.” Frank tilted her head, glancing up and down the hallway to confirm she was alone, “They have pretty round bathtubs here.”

Bucky laughed and Frank’s face warmed, the brunette biting down on her lip softly as his voice lowered considerably, “I’d be lying if the memory of you in a bathtub isn’t coming to mind right now.”

Frank blushed harder and she couldn’t help but hum softly, “I think you’re in luck—this one looks like it could fit two people.”

Bucky gasped dramatically and Frank chuckled lightly, “Captain—are you flirting with me?”

“Not anymore.”

Bucky laughed this time, shaking his head as he turned to lean back against the bar, music continuing to come from his side of the call, “That sounds wonderful, Stell. We’ll make it happen—promise.” He shifted the phone again, keeping an eye on where Curt and DeMarco both were, knowing both boys were desperate for Commander Amelia Ryans’ attention and weren’t above trying to take the phone from him, “Are you bringing a plane back tomorrow…?”

“No,” Frank shook her head, realizing she hadn’t ever answered his question, “I’m taxiing someone tomorrow. I don’t know who, but one of the other ATA pilots asked me to co-pilot with him. We’ll take off in London and the only thing Dorothy told me is that we’ll make several stops tomorrow.”

“Co-pilot, huh?”

A smile pulled at one side of her mouth as she shifted in her chair, bringing one of her legs up to rest her chin on her knee, “Is that jealousy I hear?” Bucky grunted but didn’t respond and Frank smiled just a little wider, “His name is George and he’s about twenty years older than I am—you don’t have anything to worry about. He’s never once made a pass or hinted at anything like that.”

“I trust your judgment.”

“I’m glad,” Frank’s voice softened just a little, “I know that…you might worry with my past an—”

“No,” Bucky cut her off quickly, “no—no. It has nothing to do with that and everything to do with your safety. No.”

Frank continued to smile, “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“George won’t take it there,” Frank promised softly, “now the pilot I flew into Maidenhead with…”

Bucky exhaled roughly and Frank moved the receiver to her other hand, butterflies erupting at the memory of him sighing in her ear a few nights ago, “I’ll need his name and rank.”

Frank tilted her head back, laughter escaping her lips as she shook her head, “No—no, he didn’t try anything. He just asked if I wanted to spend the evening together. He’s married and I reminded him of that.”

“Good,” Bucky shook his head, “fuckin’ pilots…”

“You’re a pilot!”

“Yeah, well…” Bucky let it trail off and they both laughed softly, hovering on the line together in a comfortable silence, “Fly safe tomorrow, alright? I can’t wait to see you in a few days.”

“I’ll do my best.”

More silence fell and Frank wondered if Bucky was thinking back to their night together and what they might find themselves up to in a few days, her own thoughts drifting to how she could manage to convince Dorothy to let her stay overnight in East Anglia when Curt interrupted them again, his voice sounding much closer, “...Did you ask her if she has any friends?”

Notes:

Whaaaaat is Frank doing?! I can't wait for the next few chapters! Let me know what you think!! I'm always so excited to read your thoughts!

Chapter 16: XVI

XVI.

Frank arrived at an airfield in London not too long after her pick up at six fifteen the next morning. Despite the city being covered in heavy clouds, a slight breeze ruffled her styled curls, undoing just enough of Frank’s hard work that she cursed the sky above, doing her best to tuck in the stray strands. Her hat was pinned just a little too tightly, but she did her best to ignore the sting, the heels of her already uncomfortable shoes clattering as she made her way from the car towards the tower. Just as she was about to open the door did she hear her name called, turning her head to see George hurrying towards her, also in his full uniform, the altered sleeve hardly noticeable. 

“Good morning!” He greeted her warmly as he approached, hand running down the front of his own blazer to keep it from ruffling up in the wind, “I was hoping to catch you before we took off.”

“What are we flying?” Frank asked, allowing George to lead her away from the control tower and down the ramp towards the tarmac, the wind increasing as they walked away from the buildings, the hem of Frank’s skirt fluttering. 

“The Dragon,” George’s response was dramatic, hushed, and mysterious, causing Frank to laugh as he nodded towards the de Havilland Dragon Rapide, a plane Frank had yet to fly. She eyed the airliner with curiosity, knowing enough about the British plane to know that it was a multi-passenger transport that was often used to shuttle people all over the UK before the war, “Have you flown or been inside a Dominie?”

“I haven’t,” Frank studied the plane, taking in the wings, eyes following the criss-cross between each set and the way the cockpit loomed high above them as they grew closer. The airliner was painted a dark blue color, one that had her wondering what exactly they were doing here today. This plane didn’t want to stand out—there were no markings or flags, nothing to signal what its purpose was and Frank could only allow her mind to wander, conjuring up various explanations. 

“You’ll love it,” George assured her as he reached out to run his hand along the edge of the tapered wing as they passed, “His Royal Highness flew in one back in ‘36.”

“Who are we flying today?” Frank turned her attention to George as they paused in front of the plane, “Another member of the royal family?”

“Not today.” George glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the area around them before he took a step closer, ducking his head as his voice lowered, “Once we board the plane, I need you to understand that anything you see or hear is to remain confidential.” Frank tilted her head, eyes searching his face as she waited for more information, “Dorothy’s been briefed, so your CO is in the loop—but no one else. We’ll be documented as a radio and navigational training flight for the Royal Navy.”

Frank glanced to the left, watching as a long black limousine entered the airfield, her eyebrows lifting as she felt a bit of anticipation strike the back of her neck, eyes wide as she looked back at George, “Who are we flying?” 

George gave her a very slow, half smile, his own eyes turning back to her after looking over the limo, “The most dangerous people you’ll ever meet.”

Frank watched the limo slowly approach, eyes raking over George’s face as her brain tried to figure out what that meant, her palms beginning to sweat from nerves. The luxury vehicle rolled to a stop not far from the tarmac and Frank watched the driver get out, buttoning his jacket as he approached the rear passenger door. Two men stepped out, neither of whom Frank recognized at all. They were dressed nicely, smiling to one another before the taller of the two thanked the driver, the men turning to look up at the plane in front of them. 

“George!” The shorter man greeted George as if he were an old friend, arms extending as he approached. His voice, to Frank, wasn’t accented, which only raised more questions as to how George knew him. “How are you?”

“Still living.” George laughed, the two shaking hands, the man grasping George’s forearm after a moment, “Just a little battered.”

“Had to give everyone else a chance at the Nazis, huh?” He clapped George’s shoulder before his eyes shifted to Frank, the brunette keeping the smile on her face tight as she tried to take in as much of the men as she could without it coming across like she was staring too hard. “And who do we have here?”

“This is Captain Stella Frank,” George nodded towards her and she held her hand out for a handshake, the man’s much larger and warmer hand taking her own firmly, “she’s a pilot with the ATA—I’ve been monitoring her progress and I think she’d be a great asset in our flights today. Very talented, and I think she deserves some time outside of her enclosure.”

Frank felt her cheeks warm as the man nodded his approval, chuckling at George’s joke, “Wonderful to meet you, Captain. I’m Bill—my associate over here, if he ever makes it over, is Dick. Hopefully we won’t be too much trouble for you.”

“No trouble at all, sir.”

“Glad to hear it,” Bill turned to look back towards the man called Dick, waving his arm around, “C’mon—you can look around another time and take inventory of each of the dents and dings. Let’s get on this bird, shall we?”

Dick greeted Frank with a nod, he was much quieter and Frank was fairly certain she detected an Australian accent while they were busy boarding the plane, Frank easily taking the co-pilot’s seat as Geroge settled into the pilot’s chair, hand moving expertly across the controls while he gave Frank instructions on what to do. Once their pre-flight checks were complete and their passengers situated did they take off down the runway, Frank’s stomach rolling just as it did everytime she lifted into the air, eyes taking in the land below as they disappeared into the thick gray clouds. 

“You can’t see it,” she could hear George’s voice crackle through the headset once they reached their desired altitude about twenty minutes later, “but if it were a clear day you could see straight to Windsor Castle!”

Frank chuckled at that, glancing out her window to see nothing but clouds and some blurry ground below. She settled into her seat, allowing George to have most of the control, her mind briefly drifting to who the men in their plane actually were and if George had been joking or not when he said they were dangerous. They were in the air for a bit, but not terribly long and Frank was impressed that George hadn’t brought any maps with him. She asked him about it as they approached Manchester but he only shook his head, “I’ve flown these skies enough, I know the landscape like the back of my hand.” He laughed as if it were a joke and Frank only chuckled in response, helping her pilot through the landing, the Dominie gracefully taxiing into its designated holding place. Bill and Dick were met on the tarmac by a few well-dressed men, each of them exchanging firm handshakes and nods before their passengers were whisked away in a black car.

The next handful of hours went by more or less the same, with George and Frank flying Dick and Bill to a few places across Northern England, but it wasn’t until they flew closer to Wales that Frank started to pick up on a few patterns, keeping a tally of the locations and distance they were covering. It was the fourth time she watched Dick and Bill greet people on the tarmac, but this time George was waved over to participate in the conversation, the pilot greeting everyone with happy smiles and gentle handshakes. In the meantime, Frank watched their plane refuel before some of the ground crew greeted her and offered her coffee. She was on her fourth cup by now with nothing to eat, so she declined, instead opting to stretch her legs as she waited for another meeting to take place. 

These meetings always occurred just off base, or at least that’s what Geroge told her during their first stop. After walking off the plane, their passengers greeted a few men before climbing into a waiting car, returning about forty to fifty minutes later. This meeting was no different, and just as Frank finished freshening up and reapplying the lipstick Dorothy gave her, did she see the car return. However, this time it appeared they were gaining a passenger. A woman who looked to be around the same age as Frank climbed out of the car after Dick, her uniform was flawless, short dark hair styled perfectly under her hat. The woman, who wore a British uniform, waved to the driver before Bill closed the door behind her. They chatted as they made their way towards the plane, and as she grew closer Frank spotted the Junior Officer pin on the woman’s collar. 

“One final stop.” George clapped Frank’s shoulder, the ATA pilot the first to reach her, “and then we’ll be on our way back to London.”

A glance at her watch told Frank it was just after lunch and she could feel her stomach pulling with hunger, but she ignored it, instead nodding and smiling as their passengers approached, “We’ve picked up a stowaway,” Bill joked the smile that seemed to be glued to his face widening out, “hope you two don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Frank shook her head, eyes lifting to the plane, “I think we could probably fit another handful or so comfortably.”

“Oh let’s hope not,” Dick made a face that had Bill and the woman both chuckling, “I’ve made enough idle chit-chat today.”

Everyone laughed at the inside joke and Frank only smiled, the two pilots going through their checklist once more before George took them into the air. So far into their multiple flights, Frank had been fairly lost. George took them high up into the clouds, where the Dominie was able to find clear sky, the large plane hidden from sight above the clouds. “Do you know why we call it a Dominie?” George asked her as Frank turned her head to look over at him, her companion handling the plane easily with just one hand. 

“I don’t,” Frank shook her head, having no idea why most of the British planes had nicknames. She wasn’t even entirely sure she knew what Dominie meant. 

“It’s the schoolmaster,” George looked over at her, the corner of his mouth lifting, “all the other planes have their purpose and jobs, but our old Dominie here is in charge of them all—keeps them honest in the sky. I like to fly her high, where she can look down and check in on the others.”

“I can’t decide if that’s sweet or disturbing.”

George laughed, shaking his head back at her, “I love talking to you, Frank. I never know what’s gonna come out of your mouth.”

Frank laughed at that, “I think that’s why most people don’t want to talk to me.”

“I heard you’ve made some new friends,” George glanced over at her knowingly and Frank rolled her eyes dramatically, mentally cursing her red-headed friend and her mouth, “I met Rose down at the pub for a drink and she says you’ve picked up a gentleman caller.”

“I love that Rose’s explanation just makes me sound like a bigger whore,” Frank scoffed and George only cackled, “the next thing you know I’m going to be called in for a pregnancy check.”

“Oh, let’s hope not, you’re far too valuable to lose in this war.” George made a face and Frank snorted, “Does he fly with the ATA?”

“No,” Frank shook her head, “he’s part of the USAAF.”

“I’m intrigued,” George tilted his head, “Where?”

“East Anglia,” Frank watched George slowly begin their descent from clear sky and into the clouds, “he’s the Air Exec.”

“You don’t ever do anything at half-speed, do you Frank?”

Frank laughed, “If I can help it—no.”

“East Anglia…” George seemed to be thinking about it, going over what he knew about the bases and stations there, “Hardwick?”

“Thorpe Abbotts,” Frank said, starting to take in the familiar scenery as they slowly approached Birmingham.

“Which would…” George paused as he moved his attention off of Frank’s personal life and back to the plane, flipping a few switches, “...make him part of the…Eighth?”

“Mhmm,” Frank watched George bypass Birmingham, the scenery familiar to her as more questions popped into her head, “I ferried in a Fortress and met him that way.”

“Of course you did,” George gave her an exaggerated wink and Frank chuckled softly, “I hope to meet him one day.”

Frank only hummed, not at all sure how she felt about merging her two developing lives right now. Rose had said as much as well, but for now Frank was content to keep him separate—her escape from reality right now. Amelia had already stepped into that world and one friend seemed like enough at the moment. Their conversation trailed off as George conversed with the tower, getting their proper landing instructions before he brought the plane down about twenty miles to Birmingham’s east. 

“Welcome to Coventry,” George pulled his headset off as they unbuckled their seatbelts, “ever been?”

Frank shook her head.

“Good,” George climbed out of the plane first, Frank following behind, “then you won’t need to prepare yourself.”

Frank wasn’t quite sure what to do with George’s statement, and instead prepared herself to join the ground crew in yet another round of coffee, but just as she was about to greet one of the members, Bill called her name, waving her towards the waiting car. George was already inside, she could see his smiling face as she approached, her eyebrows lifted curiously, “Why don’t you join us, Captain?” Bill glanced inside the car, meeting Dick’s eyes for a moment, “You might find this interesting.”

Frank glanced at George for permission and he nodded, scooting over to make room for Bill before Frank slid in beside their newest passenger, whose name she still didn’t know. “I love your lipstick,” the woman commented softly, her accented voice thicker than the ones Frank was used to at Ratcliffe. “Did you pick that up in London?”

“Oh—it’s a friend’s, actually,” Frank nodded her thanks, “she’s a bit of a lipstick collector. Is constantly looking for the perfect shade of red.”

“A noble quest,” the woman’s eyes seemed to linger on Frank’s lips long enough that she was afraid she had swiped some on her teeth. Dorothy would kill her if she did. 

“We’re going to visit one of the shadow factories,” Bill explained to the car, but Frank seemed to be the only one surprised by their destination, “as a pilot, I think you’ll find the factory fascinating.”

Frank only nodded, eyes drifting to look out the window she sat beside, taking in what appeared to be piles and piles of rubble. It was only a handful of more minutes or so until more damage and rubble appeared. The roads had been cratered, you could feel it as the car drifted over the fresh patches, the tires seeming to hit every bump and dip. Houses were in shambles, parts of roofs missing, some completely gone. Frank felt her stomach roll as they drove through more damage, her eyes widening to a point that the woman she sat next to must’ve noticed, her softer voice cutting through the heavy silence, “Coventry has been bombed several times,” she explained, “The Luftwaffe wanted to destroy all of the factories.”

Frank eyed several of the ruins as they passed them on their way to the outskirts of the city, first moving through the center where most of the damage appeared to have been done, “It’s been almost a year since the last raid,” Bill said, his face turned to look out the window opposite of Frank’s. 

“How many…” Frank let the question die off, unsure if she really wanted the answer or not. 

However, before she could take it back, the woman was quick to reply, “I think the last count I heard was somewhere around a thousand casualties after the hospital was hit.”

The town looked more like it had gone through an earthquake than a war, and Frank’s stomach only sank with the number, eyes taking in as much of the damage as she could. Their drive wasn’t too much longer and Frank was happy to be out of the car, inhaling the fresh air in an effort to not vomit everywhere. She followed behind the party, and for the first time since she’d been in their presence, neither Bill nor George had a smile on their faces. 

Their tour of the Shadow Factory was fascinating, one of the workers giving them a thorough view of the aero engines being assembled, but Frank’s mind kept straying to the rubble and the damage she saw on their way through the city, her brain having a hard time processing it. She knew they were at war, of course she did. And she’d been through a few air-raid sirens too, although none that hit Ratcliffe, but this was the first she’d seen the aftermath of the bombs. Seen what war led to and she couldn’t help but feel sick to her stomach, her teeth gritting just a little more. The woman they were with kept glancing her way, which only had Frank feeling more anxious and self continuous, worried her face was giving away too much of how she really felt. It wasn’t until they moved down another flight of metal stairs to see a Bristol Hercules engine fully assembled that Frank excused herself. 

George nodded, squeezing her elbow as she passed, taking the directions to get some fresh air outside of the factory. She inhaled deeply, unsure why her body was reacting this way when she heard heeled footsteps approaching. “First time seeing the damage?”

Frank nodded as the dark haired woman joined her on the pathway, the women standing side by side, “Yeah—I haven’t been here long and…they don’t allow us to fly to the rest of Europe.”

“Have you been to London?”

“Mhmm,” Frank said, “but I haven’t experienced any of the raids there.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” she said, hands sliding into the pockets of her jacket, “not everyone has that luxury.”

“Have you…?”

“Oh yes,” she nodded, “yes—I’ve seen more damage than I ever thought I would. It gets worse, in fact. Especially right after. The…sounds are worse than the sights. The sounds are…haunting.” Frank let the sentence hover in the air, her own brain imagining what it might sound like to have a bomb dropped and the aftermath that comes with it. Was there screaming and crying? Or was it like after a storm when everything was just silent? “It gets easier,” she said after a few moments of silence, realizing Frank wasn’t going to say anything more.

“The destruction gets easier…?”

“There are casualties in war, Captain,” the woman took a step back, nodding her head towards the door both women had walked through a handful of minutes ago, “the longer you’re in this—the more callus you’ll become.”

---

They were ahead of schedule by the time they dropped their passengers off. The woman who joined them on their trip to Coventry bid goodbye first before she disappeared into the London background, while both Bill and Dick shook hands with their pilots, each thanking George and Frank profusely before they climbed into the waiting limousine and set off, away from the tarmac. 

George turned to Frank expectantly, eyes raking over her carefully, “Are you alright?”

Frank nodded, “Yes—it’s just been a long day. But I really appreciate you asking me to join you, I’ve enjoyed it greatly.”

“You don’t have to lie,” George nudged her with his elbow, “I know it was boring and I know Coventry’s still bothering you.”

Frank didn’t have a response and instead watched George lean against the wing, hand resting on it as he studied her, waiting for her response. “Does it bother you?”

George shrugged, his eyes drifting down towards the ground as he gathered his thoughts, “What bothers me more is what it would mean if we didn’t fight back. Hitler cannot win this war, Frank. I won’t allow it.”

Frank nodded in agreement, her hands running across her sides before her arms wrapped around herself, “I’ll be better after I’ve had something to eat.”

George chuckled, “Yes—normally the airfields have some kind of food for us to graze on. I’m sorry that wasn’t the case today. Although, I think I have a better idea of what might help you.”

“Please don’t say coffee,” Frank winced, “I’m not sure my stomach will accept any more today.”

“No—no” George shook his head, nodding towards the airplane, “climb back in, we’ve got one more stop.”

---

Bucky laughed loudly as he leaned against one of the tables near the dart board, shaking his head as Curt attempted to cover his eyes and land his next shot on the bullseye. Beside him Buck watched with amusement, his eyes crinkling as he sipped his ginger beer, DeMarco a few seats away attempting to mess up Curt’s next shot. However, to their surprise, Curt’s dart cut through the air and landed directly onto the center of the board, everyone watching whooping and laughing loudly. 

It was a good night among friends and Bucky found himself sipping his second beer of the evening. The fires were warm, keeping out the damp feeling as it rained all around the small village, thunder rumbling in the distance. “You owe me three bucks,” Curt pointed towards DeMarco, the man laughing as Curt reached for his glass of whiskey, “unless you want to go double or nothing, Benny boy.”

“I doubt you could hit it again,” Benny shifted to pull out some cash, counting it out before he shoved it into Curt’s open palm, “but I don’t want to lose any more money to you.”

“Smart man.” Curt’s eyes shifted to Buck and the blonde shook his head no, hand waving. 

“Don’t even think about it, Curt.”

“C’mon…” Curt stuffed DeMarco’s money back into his pocket, “I know you’re just itching to throw some darts, Major.”

“I’m satisfied just watching tonight,” Buck shook his head, “you’ll have to find someone else to hussle.”

The boys laughed and Bucky pushed himself away from the table, reaching for the shot of whiskey he had before slapping Curt across the shoulder, “C’mon Curt, I’ll take your bet. Double or nothing says you can’t make that same exact shot again.”

“You’re on,” Curt poked Bucky’s chest before moving towards the dart board, swiping the darts off the board before moving into position, “I can’t wait to take your money.”

Bucky laughed, wide smile across his face as Curt pulled back his arm to throw his first dart. Their friend landed it just off center and DeMarco ribbed him for it, Curt rolling his eyes back at his friend. Bucky watched Curt land the second dart just a little high, whistling playfully and Curt only held his hand out, “I’ve got one more!”

Everyone laughed at that and Bucky found himself glancing over his shoulder, eyes sweeping the pub when he saw her. He did a double take, body immediately moving away from the table as he took in her drenched appearance, even from his position several feet away he could see she was dripping with water. Buck picked up on Bucky’s mood change first, eyes shifting to look where his friend was watching before he lifted his own eyebrows, “Is that…?”

“Yeah…yeah it is…” Bucky moved away from the table, ignoring Curt’s third shot that did hit the target. He weaved in and out of the tables and groups of people before he reached her, hand sliding around her waist, her uniform jacket as soaked as she looked. “Stell?”

“Hi,” Frank breathed, her entire body shivering slightly as Bucky’s hand slipped around her waist, pulling her towards him as she rested a shaking hand on his chest, “no—I don’t want to get you wet.”

“What are you…?” Bucky shook his head, his free hand lifting to cup her jaw, “Are you alright? Did you just fly in?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank nodded as Bucky pushed some of her wet hair off her face, his eyes frantically searching hers for an explanation, “I…had some time and George offered to drop me off…one of the guys at the tower said you’d be down here.”

“You flew in?”

“F—from London.” Frank nodded, her words coming out in stutters as she felt her body shiver uncontrollably, “It wasn’t raining when I started the walk, but it quickly started drizzling and then the sky just opened up.”

“It does that here,” Bucky swiped his thumb across her chapped lips, not at all liking the way her face was paling as she shivered again, “C’mon—let’s get you warmed up.”

Frank expected him to take her to the fire, but instead he went to the bar, flagging down Anne before he pointed towards the wall of keys. “Got any free rooms, tonight?”

Anne didn’t even bother questioning him after looking at Frank, the pub owner quickly pulling off one of the keys and passing it over, “I’ll send up something warm in a bit.”

Bucky thanked her before he led Frank towards the staircase, the brunette attempting to shake her head, “I just need to sit by the fire and I’ll be fine—”

“You need to get out of these clothes,” Bucky corrected her, guiding her up the stairs, not even giving the boys a second glance as they made it onto the upper floor’s landing, “I can’t believe you walked in the rain.”

“It wasn’t r—raining when I st—started,” Frank said as Bucky located the door and slipped the key inside, pushing it open a moment later. 

Bucky closed the door behind them, watching as Frank tugged off her limp hat, eyes lifting to find his as he moved into her space. “What are you doing here?” Bucky cupped her face, eyes searching hers as her hat landed against her thigh, her free hand moving to rest on his wrist, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah—it was an exhausting day,” Frank nodded, closing her eyes as she felt him drop a kiss to her forehead, “I don’t even know what was happening, but after our final leg, George suggested flying me here so that I could relax.”

“Where did you fly?” Bucky’s frown deepened, his hands moving from her face to her neck and shoulders, hand running across her arms and waist, making sure she was ok and not hurt, fingers running along her back and hips, taking inventory.

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to say,” Frank whispered, finding herself sagging into him, her body begging her for his warmth as the cold rain seeped into her bones. “Can I just lean here…?”

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her soaked head as he held her for a few moments, letting her nuzzle into his chest where the greatest warmth was. “C’mon, doll,” Bucky’s voice was softer, hands flattening along her spine, “let’s get you out of these wet clothes, alright?”

Frank found herself in a very warm bath under ten minutes later, her clothes air drying. She was up to her shoulders in the clawfoot tub, head resting against the edge as she allowed the warm water to sooth her anxieties and stiff muscles, the warmth successfully washing away the chill that had settled after the pop-up storm. She could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, droplets of water slapping against the window before splattering across. Bucky was in the bedroom, tending to his own wet clothes and just before she slipped her head under the water did she hear a soft knock on the door. 

When she came back up for air, she saw Bucky leaning against the doorway, dark blue eyes glued to her and she couldn’t help but blush softly, taking in the sight of him in just his trousers and undershirt, “Hi.”

“Hi,” he smiled easily, arms folded and legs crossed as he took in her semi-bubble covered body in the water, “how are you feeling?”

“Better,” her hands and arms lifted out of the water as she smoothed some hair back, “I didn’t realize how cold I was.”

“The rain gets really cold here,” Bucky said, head turning to glance towards the windows, “looks like you arrived just before it really started coming down.”

“It felt like a bucket of water was poured onto me,” Frank slipped further down into the tub, wanting her shoulders covered, “I can’t believe there’s more.”

“There can always be more,” Bucky chuckled softly, “trust me. I’ve been there.”

Frank smiled, leaning her head back as she lifted a hand out of the water, “Was someone at the door?”

“Buck,” Bucky nodded, “Anne sent him up with some clothes for you. He’ll be back in a few with something to eat.”

Frank couldn’t help the sigh that fell from her lips, head tilting back further as she closed her eyes, “I could eat cardboard, I think.”

“Have you eaten today?”

“Mm-mm,” Frank shook her head, “I’m starving.”

Bucky pushed himself off the door frame, moving to rest his hands on either side of the tub behind her head, body looming over hers, “You need to be better about eating. This is the third time you’ve told me you haven’t eaten all day.”

“There’s never any time.” Frank lifted a hand out of the water, fingers trailing over his chin that hovered above her forehead, “And all the airfields had was coffee.”

He kissed her fingers, “We’ll figure that out later.”

Frank closed her eyes as he lowered his head to hers, lips brushing hers upside down as he gave her a very soft, very slow kiss. It started out innocent enough, but it wasn’t long before he deepened it, requesting access to her mouth that she happily gave him. Eventually she broke their kiss to breathe, Bucky kissing her nose and then forehead as his hands slid into the water and over her shoulders. Frank tilted her head, sliding her body up in the tub to give him access to her neck, Bucky’s lips latching onto the soft skin just below her ear. 

“Do you need a warm up?” Frank asked softly, feeling his thumbs swipe along her collarbones. 

“I’m not sure this bath would fit me by myself, let alone both of us,” Bucky whispered into her ear, teeth grazing her earlobe, “might have to save that for when you get to show me that big London bathtub.” Frank chuckled softly, her laugh transitioning into a breathy moan as Bucky’s hands slid over her shoulders and across her chest, his long fingers gliding around the outside of her breasts as he cupped one in each of his hands. She extended her neck, eyes fluttering closed as he massaged her breasts, thumbs swiping across her nipples. “Good?”

Frank nodded, lips parted as he leaned down to kiss her again, her entire body vibrating as the roughness of his thumbs made her stomach somersault, a soft gasp interrupting their kiss, Frank’s body arching to try to get more frictioning from his fingers. “So good.”

He rolled her left nipple between his thumb and index finger as his right hand slipped down across her stomach, his arm sinking into the water down to his elbow as his fingers brushed her curls. Frank prepared herself for him to go lower, but instead he only drifted along the crease of her leg, fingers walking teasingly up and down the stretch of skin, “Do you like when I touch you?”

Frank nodded, another gasp falling from her lips as he tugged on her nipple, her thighs pressing together as he kissed her cheek and ear, teeth nipping the lobe playfully. It didn’t take long for Frank to move after that, turning around in the bathtub to sit up on her knees, facing him. She looked up at him, holding his gaze as her damp hands slid across his belt, undoing it before unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers. 

They clattered to the ground a moment later, the belt hitting the hard floor as she slipped a finger into the waistband of his underwear and pulled him towards her before pulling them down. Her hand wrapped around him a moment later and Bucky tilted his head back, a very soft “fuck” escaping his mouth as she kissed the head of his penis, stroking him slowly as he finished hardening in her hand. She kissed her way from head to base, water sloshing along the sides of the tub as she moved and he moaned loudly when her tongue ran across his head. 

He was smooth and salty, her fingers tracing the ridges and veins along his shaft as she teased his head, watching as it seemed to swell further with each caress of her tongue that she gave it. She stroked him twice before taking him into her mouth, Bucky’s groan echoing around the bathroom, one hand moving to slide along her face as his other landed against the wall to give him something to lean against. “Stella,” he moaned when she took him deeper, tongue swirling as she pulled away. His thumb ran across the hinge of her jaw, their eyes meeting as she took him again, her eyes glued to his as his head kissed her throat. “So good, doll,” he praised her softly, mouth falling open when she did it again, “that feels so good.”

She pulled away to kiss his tip again, Bucky nodding his approval as she stroked him with her hand, squeezing and twisting as she came up and went back down. The next several minutes were filled with Bucky’s groans as Frank continued her movements, alternating between licking and sucking, moaning softly around him when she felt her own body start to warm as he caressed the back of her neck soothingly. She felt Bucky’s hand close around hers, her eyes lifting to look up at him as she pulled off, watching as he increased her speed and pressure, eyes wide and pupils darkened, “Open up, Stell.” Frank did as she was told, holding his gaze as she opened her mouth, letting him guide himself onto her tongue. It wasn’t something she had done before, but she couldn’t help but squeeze her legs together at the intimacy of it, humming around him as he landed on her tongue. “Yeah?” Bucky’s voice whispered, not much louder than it needed to be for her to hear him, “Is it good?”

She nodded, her eyes fluttering closed as she took him deeper, testing the waters as she allowed him to move his hips just a bit, his thumb swiping along her jawline, “The Captain likes sucking my cock?” Frank nodded again, moaning as she picked up her pace, fingers squeezing him harder as his hand released hers, hips stilling as he gave her control back, letting her keep the pace she needed. His head fell back when he grew closer and Frank’s free hand ran along the space between his legs, cupping and stroking his testicles before he groaned loudly, warning her about a minute before he came down her throat. 

Frank pulled away from him with a blush coating her cheeks, Bucky grinning down at her as he held his hand out for hers, pulling her from the tub after she took his. He had her wrapped in his arms, kissing her deeply as he reached for one of the towels, wrapping it around her before walking her out of the bathroom and towards the bed. Frank gasped as Bucky scooped her up, her arms wrapping around his neck as he crossed the carpeted floor and deposited her onto the bed. 

He kissed her deeply and slowly, her arms wrapping around his neck as her fingers slipped into his hair, pulling and twisting the longer strands around her fingers, sighing as his mustache brushed along her cheek and chin as he made his way down her neck to her chest. His evening stubble tickled her collarbones and the swell of her breasts, her back arching off the bed as his hot mouth covered one of her nipples. 

She moaned and gasped as he licked and teased, his hands running down her waist and across her hips, his knees pushing her legs apart before he settled between them. He switched to her other breast, Frank’s head landing back against the bed, the towel spread open as if he just unwrapped a present and she cried out when he bit down just a little harder. “Good?” He asked as his lips slid between her breasts, eyes lifting to study her face and she nodded frantically, her hips automatically rolling into his. 

He grinned, his dimple popping as he pressed hot, open mouthed kisses down her stomach and hips, biting down playfully on her hip bone as she giggled, her head tilting to watch him brush his nose along her curls. “Tell me what you want, Captain.”

“Oh my God,” she tugged on his hair as he kissed the crease of her leg, nose nuzzling his way down as he inhaled deeply, “please.”

“Please what?” He asked into her leg, kissing the tender skin of her inner thigh. 

Frank whined, hips tilting and he only grinned in response, hand flattening out along her leg to keep her still, waiting for her response, “Bucky…”

“Mhmm,” he kissed her leg again, “I’m here, doll. Waiting for further instruction.” She whined again, back arching as she tried to roll her hips, but the way his hand rested flat against her pelvis kept her from doing so, her front teeth digging into her lower lip. “Talk to me, Stella,” he all but purred into the space between her legs, his thumb parting her lips as he nosed his way into her, “is this ok?” Frank nodded again, gasping as he opened her up further, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to her clit, “Like that?”

“Yes,” she whispered, nodding as her hand gripped the bedspread, “yes.”

He kissed her again, tongue sliding out to lick and suck as she mewled in response, his fingers gliding down the same path his mouth had taken, across her curls and down the crease of her leg, pushing her thigh down to give him more breathing room, “Which do you like better?” he asked against her lips, licking his way down as he rolled his tongue inside her, his fingers barely grazing the space he’d just been. 

“All of it,” she whispered, her hips fighting his hand as she tried to buck, “all of it.”

He kissed her again, moaning against her as she fisted more of his hair, his eyes lifting to see her face as she gasped back at him, his mustache tickling her in the most sensitive of ways. “What if I…” he pulled away enough to slide a finger inside her, glancing down as it disappeared between her legs, “do this? This ok?”

“Yes.”

He slipped another in, eyes glued to her face as she moaned and just as he felt her squeeze his fingers did he pull everything away, slow smile crossing his face as her head shot up to stare down at him, her own eyes wide and dark with lust, “What…?”

“Tell me what you want.”

Frank collapsed back onto the bed, her body nearly vibrating from desire as she clenched around nothing, her hips trying to find him and some form of friction, her brain screaming at her to demand that he put his mouth back on her. Demand that he suck on her while his fingers pumped in and out but she couldn’t find the words, her chest heaving as she panted, unsatisfied. After several seconds of silence passed, she felt Bucky press a soft kiss to her knee, forehead resting against her thigh, “I know you can do it,” he whispered against her skin, “where do you want my fingers, Stell?”

Frank sighed, shaking her head as he stroked her leg softly, waiting for her to gather the words and give herself permission to feel before thinking, “I want them inside me.”

“Good girl,” he praised her, his hand moving back into position, “how many do you want, baby? Two?”

“Three.”

“Fuck—you’re so good,” he eased two back in before the third joined, groaning as her hips moved in time with his hand, muscles squeezing him tightly, “wish I had a fuckin’ condom with me.”

“I didn’t give you any notice.”

“I’ll just have to start carrying them around.” He kissed her thigh, eyes glued to where they connected as he watched his fingers disappear inside her over and over again, “What else do you want, Stell?”

She hummed around her next request, inwardly battling with herself and the embarrassment she felt at first, cheeks warming as she reached her hand down to cup his cheek, thumb tapping his bottom lip. “Where do you want it?” He asked, turning his head to kiss her palm, nose nuzzling her fingers before he kissed her thumb, gently taking it into his mouth as he sucked on the tip. 

She pulled her thumb from his mouth before running it across herself and he groaned, dropping his head to bury his face between her lips, licking and sucking to his heart’s content. Frank gasped and moaned, body moving in time with his fingers as he edged her over and over again, fingers stopping or slipping out of her altogether as he blew a stream of cold air across her sensitive clit. Eventually she rested her hand on the back of his neck, fingers scratching at his scalp as he whispered against her mound, “Tell me what you want.”

She cried out as his fingers stopped again, unsure if her body could take it if she didn’t get to finish what it kept trying to start, her hips continuing to move against his fingers, his eyes shifting from her face to watch her try to find her pleasure. “Bucky…”

“Tell me,” he prompted, pulling his fingers further from her, “what’s your body feel, Stella? What are you wanting?  You had a hard day—you need something. Tell me.”

Frank was frustrated, her body feeling like it was on fire as she gripped the bedspread harder, legs shifting and twitching, “I need you.”

“M’right here,” he pressed a kiss to her thigh again, “what else do you need?”

Frank could feel the demand coming from her mouth before she could swallow it back down and lock it into the box where she’d kept her desires and wants her entire life, hardly recognizing her own voice as she demanded, “Make me come, John. I need it so badly.”

“You do,” he agreed, fingers dragging back inside her as he got her right back to that spot she needed to be so badly, long fingers stroking her walls as he kissed and licked her, “you do—you really do. M’gonna give it to you, whenever you’re ready, doll. It’s yours.”

Frank tumbled over the edge several long seconds later, her body all but convulsing as she squeezed and fluttered, coating his fingers as she cried out loudly, not even bothering to hide the sounds of her release and he only grinned into her leg, easing her down from her high as he whispered her name over and over against her skin until his fingers came to a stop and he was able to pull them out of her. He cleaned his fingers before he crawled back up her body, hand cupping her face as he rested his forehead to hers, their noses brushing softly. “So proud of you,” he whispered against her mouth, their lips just barely touching. “Good?”

Frank nodded, out of breath as she rested her forehead against his, letting him kiss her cheek and chin as she allowed her body to return to Earth, back flat on the bed as he cuddled into her side. His hand slipped over her stomach and curved around her hip as he kissed her cheek and temple. “Really good.”

“Good.” He held her against him, letting her turn into him as she nuzzled her way under his chin into the spot she had claimed as hers. They were quiet, basking in the afterglow of being back together again until a tentative knock at the door sounded. 

Frank didn’t let him go immediately, but Bucky kissed her forehead as her arms loosened from him, allowing him to move into a sitting position. “One sec,” he called to the door, reaching for Frank’s towel as he wrapped it around his waist. Frank pushed herself up a moment later, motioning towards the bathroom before she stepped through, closing the door softly behind her. 

Bucky inhaled deeply, giving himself just a handful of seconds more to compose himself before he pulled the door open. Buck eyed him, shaking his head slightly as he held out the two bowls of hot soup that Anne prepared downstairs. “I don’t want to know.” Buck shook his head, stepping back once Bucky had the tray, “just—don’t get caught sneaking back in tomorrow morning.”

Notes:

Some drama, some mystery, some spice...I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! Frank and Bucky were begging to be together again, so I had to let them have some time at the end. Hahahaha.

I can't wait to read what you think!! Your comments make my day!

(And, as always, if you can’t wait for the next update, you should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here!)

Chapter 17: XVII

XVII.

Frank ran her hand up and down the arm that was wrapped around her, fingers brushing the dark hair across his forearm before her nails scratched back down to his wrist, mentally tracing each of the moles that dotted his skin. Bucky’s thumb brushed against her ribs, letting her know he was awake too, but neither spoke in the early morning light and instead just enjoyed the quiet presence of their lover. 

Her head rested on the shared pillow, a long, hard body pressed to her back and she sighed softly when she felt a set of lips cross the space between her shoulder and neck, his large hand flattening against her stomach as he nuzzled the space where her neck and shoulder met. Despite it being early, Frank found herself wide awake and very aware of the man behind her, their legs tangled under the flat sheet, her toes just barely dragging along his ankle. His dog tags were cool against her bare back, the metal brushing her spine when he shifted, pulling her just a little further into his arm and against his chest. His lips trailed up the side of her neck until he reached her ear, pressing a very light kiss to the space behind it, mustache tickling the thin skin as he kissed her ear fully, nibbling just slightly on the edge of the lobe before he nipped her earring playfully. 

Frank felt his nose glide along her jawline and she giggled when he exhaled fully into her neck, his own laughter mingling with her own as his arm shifted, hand moving to cup her face. He turned it, their lips meeting eagerly for the first time that morning and Frank found herself rolling onto her back, arm hooked around his neck as she happily kissed him back. Something she worried about shortly after she married was morning breath and what she might look like in bed without makeup, her hair wild. She remembered sneaking into the bathroom to brush her teeth and smooth her hair down before crawling back into bed, heart racing as she waited for slow morning kisses. But he never indulged her in that way, and Frank could probably count on two hands, if not just the one, how many times they actually did kiss in bed throughout their doomed marriage.

Bucky’s hand shifted from her cheek to the side of her throat, thumb swiping her jawline and all thoughts of her former life and husband disappeared, a soft gasp escaping her mouth as he bit down gently on her lower lip, pulling it with him just a few millimeters away before he soothed the very light sting with his tongue. Her fingers dug into his soft curls, nails scratching along his scalp and Bucky hummed his approval, head tilting to get a better angle on their kiss, tongue licking far enough into her mouth she was almost sure he could count her teeth. His hand drifted across her neck, thumb brushing the sensitive skin of her throat before his knuckle drug up and across her jaw to her chin. 

He took her chin between his thumb and index finger, their kiss pausing as they each inhaled as much air as they could, Bucky forcing oxygen in through his nose as he nuzzled it alongside her own, her chest heaving as she too tried to give her lungs the break they requested. The chain of his dog tags brushed her nipple and Frank couldn’t help the very light, albeit audible moan that escaped her lips, the cool chain sending another wave of goosebumps across her arms and legs, the friction making her tingle and pulse. 

Bucky pulled away enough to look at her, hand moving away from her chin to brush along the side of her face, knuckle grazing her temple before his thumb swiped along her hairline, eyes searching hers before they drifted across her nose and over her lips, the man hovering above her looking at her as if he were memorizing a painting in a museum. The intensity in his dark blue eyes made her warm, a light dusting of pink covering her cheeks and the corner of his lip lifted knowingly as he watched her flush, his eyes returning back to hers. Their lips met for a light kiss, one that was more sweet than anything and Frank felt her eyes flutter as his forehead rested against hers. Bucky kissed her upper lip gently and Frank stroked a curl behind his ear, kissing his lower lip back in return. 

“Good morning,” Bucky’s morning voice was one she didn’t think would ever not make her stomach flip, her fingers gliding along the side of his neck as he pulled away, full smile across his lips. 

“Good morning,” she whispered back, arm falling from his shoulder as he shifted, reaching for his watch on the nightstand to check the time. “How much longer do we have?”

Bucky tossed the watch back onto the nightstand before crawling back into bed with her, arms wrapping around her as he rolled them, Frank resting partially on top of him, fingers drawing misshapen designs along his chest, “Maybe an hour? We’ll see—I asked Buck to come get me when I saw him last night.”

“You won’t get into any trouble, will you?” Frank asked, a slight frown covering her forehead, Bucky’s hand lifting to brush his thumb across the lines, smoothing them out, “After last time…”

“Shouldn’t.” Bucky shook his head, “It’s not like I’m flyin’ or anything. And we’re not doing anything but practice missions for the next week or two.”

“Do you fly practice missions?”

“Maybe a few,” Bucky kissed her quickly, “but nothing too out there. Plus I have to fly the planes you bring me.”

“You fly them?”

“Someone’s got to test them,” he ran his thumb along her cheek, stroking it lightly. 

Frank shifted, fingers tangling around the chain of his necklace, “I just don’t want you to get in trouble with your CO…?”

“Huglin,” Bucky rolled his eyes, “he’s a shit CO and an even worse pilot. We’ll see how long he lasts.” Frank kissed his chest, hand flattening out as he smiled at her, “How’d you fly yesterday?”

“I didn’t do much of the flying,” Frank yawned softly, turning her head into his hand as he cupped her face, her lips brushing his palm, “I helped with landing and take offs.”

“So the important parts.”

Frank laughed, accepting Bucky’s soft kiss, “It was good—but also kind of terrible. I just don’t know how much I can tell you.”

“Secrets,” Bucky dropped his voice playfully and she snorted, “you don’t have to tell me anything, doll.”

Frank closed her eyes as he kissed her slowly, pulling her face towards his for a handful of more kisses, “It’s not that I don’t want to, it just feels like it was…something really big.”

“Smart, sexy, and secretive,” Bucky grinned, and Frank giggled as he pecked her again, “I’m glad it went well.”

Frank leaned over to kiss his chin before she nuzzled herself further into his arms and under it, his hand running up and down her back, “Have you seen a bombing before?”

“Like an air raid?”

Frank nodded and Bucky gently pulled the hair away from her face, massaging her neck, “Can’t say I have, doll.”

“It’s…intense,” Frank shook her head, body shivering as Bucky’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close, “we flew to Coventry and…there was so much damage and destruction. It was terrible.”

Bucky didn’t reply and instead just held her closer, squeezing her body against his, giving her as much comfort and support as he could, lips brushing her forehead and temple as she pressed further into him. They were quiet for several long minutes, finding comfort in the other as the first waves of reality settled across each of them. They were at war—they were both active in the war itself and there would undoubtedly be dark days ahead of them. At the thought, Frank found herself pressing her face into his chest, inhaling his increasingly familiar scent as he stroked the back of her neck, willing herself not to think of what might happen the longer this war went on. 

“How are your boys settling into Thorpe Abbotts?”

If Bucky found her conversation change abrupt, he didn’t mention it as he tilted his head back, thinking over the last handful of days, “Well, I think. No fights yet, which is always a plus. Curt’s trying to hustle his way through the pub on our nights out, which is entertaining.”

“I can imagine.”

“DeMarco’s asked about Amelia a few times—I’m pretty sure he wrote her a letter. And Buck’s Buck, he’s resilient. Settles in nicely, quietly observes us all like we’re some big experiment...or animals at the zoo.” Bucky laughed when Frank giggled, her lips gliding along his collarbone, “You haven’t met the other guys, but they’re all doin’ fine too. It’s all fun and games right now, but the realness will sink in once they’re in the sky.”

“When will that be?”

Bucky shrugged, and she picked up on the way his smile fell just a little, eyes clouding with concern and something close to fear, “Couple weeks, probably. Gotta get them used to everything. We’ll do some maneuvers over the ocean and then by the end of the month they should be up on a real mission.”

Frank gently ran her fingers along his neck and up to his chin, thumb brushing the space below his lip, “Have you decided what you’re going to tell them?”

Bucky shook his head, eyes clouding over even more and she pressed a soft kiss to his chin in an attempt to comfort him, feeling the way his hands stilled, fingers pressing in just a little firmer to her skin, “I don’t know what to tell them.” He shook his head, and by extension the memories, before he looked at her, “I don’t think there’s really even anything I can say to prepare them.”

 “You could tell them what it feels like,” Frank suggested, treading gently onto the topic, “or—”

“I…just keep thinking about what I would’ve thought,” Bucky shook his head, “and if someone had told me, I wouldn’t have believed them. Because I’m a good pilot, and I’m invincible and nothing’s ever gonna touch me.”

Frank hummed, tilting her head, “But…”

“But when the guy sitting next to you has his face blown off and you just barely get out of the way…” Bucky exhaled roughly, hands lifting off her to run through his hair, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes, “Fuck—Stella. I can’t tell them that. I can’t take away their hope.”

Frank moved to sit up against him, thighs on either side of his hips as she rested her hands along his chest, stroking his abdomen soothingly as he processed his own thoughts and memories. “Maybe you just take it one day at a time,” Frank’s hand slid up his chest to his shoulders, squeezing them as she gently massaged the tightened muscles, “and if it feels right and you want to give them some kind of explanation, you can.”

Bucky moved his hands to rest along her knees and up to her thighs, long fingers squeezing the flesh there as he looked up at her, “Why is it so easy to talk to you and not to them?”

Frank’s finger ran along the chain of his dog tags, pressing the metal between her index and thumb as she lifted a shoulder, “You could try having them on top of you when you talk to them?”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head as he moved his hands to her hips, “Something tells me I wouldn’t feel quite the same way as I do now.”

Frank giggled at that, a blush covering her cheeks as Bucky wiggled his eyebrows back at her, lifting his hands off her waist to slide behind his head, not at all hiding the way he eyed her on top of him or the way his body was currently reacting to having her naked and on top of him. “Where does Dorothy think you are?”

“London.” Frank toyed with his tags as she looked at him, “As long as I’m back at Ratcliffe by midday, she won’t know I was here.”

“Secret rendezvous?” He wiggled his eyebrows again. 

“Something like that,” Frank fell forward, hands catching just on either side of his head as she slowly, painfully so, lowered her face down to his, lips brushing his softly, borderline teasingly, the brunette working up just enough courage to do so. Bucky tried to deepen her kiss but she pulled back, hardly a whisper between them. “I just need to take the train in and then I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Bucky’s hands moved from behind his head, just barely ghosting them along her sides, fingers grazing her ribcage and hips, “Staying the night?”

“I don’t know,” Frank shook her head, “it depends on what time I land. I can’t take off too close to sunset, because we aren’t allowed to land in the dark. So…”

“Mmm,” Bucky raised his head up to claim her lips in a slow kiss, “I think I’ve got to adjust the time on your ferry then. Something just came up and our runways won’t be clear until at least four.”

Frank rested her hand on the side of his face, pulling away from his kiss as she brushed her lower lip against his upper, voice barely above a whisper “Oh no…we do hate to see a delay. But I can definitely feel that something just came up. So glad I found out now…”

“I’ll have a talk with the Air Exec,” his voice dropped as their lips connected again, Frank happily accepting his open mouthed kiss, “guy doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.”

Frank half giggled, half gasped as Bucky rolled them over, settling between her legs as he kissed her neck and shoulders, “I think he knows exactly what he’s doing.” She nudged his nose with hers, kissing him again before she continued, “Although, hopefully he comes better prepared on Tuesday…”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Bucky kissed her again, gently rolling his hips into hers as she gasped, “We’ll make up for this lost time.”

“Yeah?” Frank’s reply was breathy as he slowly lowered his entire body against hers, lips trailing kisses along her chest and down the valley of her breasts. 

“Mhmm,” Bucky nuzzled one of her nipples before his tongue slid across it, Frank arching into him as she felt his length against her thigh, “I’ve got some things I want to try.” Frank wasn’t able to respond, her head falling back against the pillow as her eyes rolled back in her head, Bucky’s fingers gently skimming the space between her legs. Her body reacted to him instantly, legs falling further apart, a soft gasp falling from her lips as all thoughts of what might happen on Tuesday left her brain. 

---

Buck idled just outside of the pub, eyes alternating between the doors and his watch, knowing that if he didn’t get Bucky back soon for his check-in with Huglin, things were going to get really bad, really quickly, for his best friend. He tapped a finger along the wheel, rolling the splinter of wood between his molars as he slowly released the breath he’d been holding. The minute hand ticked by the twelve twice more before he reached down to turn the car off, fully preparing himself to have to drag the Air Exec out of bed, when the wooden door swung open and out stepped John Egan himself. 

Wide smile, dimples on display, Bucky held the door open, eyes tracking the smaller brunette as she ducked under his arm, entirely unaware how captivated his best friend was by her. Buck wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Bucky so enthralled with a woman before, at least not after he spoke to them, but the way Bucky’s hand slipped along her back, fingers tucking into the side of her belted jacket as he maneuvered her into his side told him that this was so much more than lust at first sight.

He didn’t know Stella Frank well, this was only the second time he saw her and he’d yet to speak with her again, but he could see plain as day that they were both equally as smitten, her eyes finding his easily as they followed the short path towards the jeep. Bucky said something that was only meant for her, and he saw Frank’s posture shift, her shoulders loosening up a bit as Bucky squeezed her waist. Buck watched them cross in front of the jeep and Bucky gave him a nod in greeting, Buck lifting his fingers off the wheel in response. The last time he saw his friend, Bucky was considerably less clothed, a towel wrapped around his waist and Frank nowhere to be seen, although Buck presumed she was behind the closed bathroom door. 

“Major,” Bucky rapped his knuckles along the hood of the jeep and Buck shook his head slightly as Bucky held his hand out for Frank to take, helping her up and into the jeep, his fingers staying clasped with hers until she was seated in the back. 

“Bucky,” Buck waited until both of his passengers were seated, doing his best to not feel embarrassed as Frank adjusted her uniform in her seat, “running it to the last second, I see.”

“Only way to play,” Bucky patted Buck’s shoulder as the blonde reversed before setting off towards their base, “Miss me?”

Frank snorted from the back seat and Buck chuckled under his breath, “Curt says he got cold last night.”

“Ahh—I’ll make it up to him,” Bucky glanced over his shoulder at Frank, sending her a playful wink, “Benny didn’t want to cuddle?”

“You know Benny…” Buck shook his head, moving to rest his left elbow along the door as he drove, “Doesn’t much like anyone in his bed.”

The boys laughed as if it were an inside joke and Frank only smiled as she watched the scenery pass, a few of the buildings appearing in the distance, “I gotta take a meeting,” Bucky called over his shoulder, arm shifting to stretch towards her, hand gliding over her bent knee, eye focused on hers, “but then I’ll drive you to the train station, alright?”

“I can wal—”

“I don’t think so,” Bucky shook his head, immediately shutting down her suggestion before she finished her thought. “I won’t be gone long, maybe twenty minutes. Huglin doesn’t want me in front of him any longer than I want to be.”

“Are you in trouble?”

Bucky turned to look at Buck, eyebrows lifted in question, “Am I in trouble?”

“Don’t think so,” Buck said, easing up on the gas as they rolled into their station, making sure not to hit or clip any of the soldiers walking and biking along the road. “As far as I know, Huglin doesn’t know anything.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” Bucky exhaled as Buck slowed the car down even more, eyes running across his CO’s office. Once Buck brought the jeep to a stop, Bucky leaned over the back of his seat and pressed a very quick and chaste kiss to her lips, “I’ll see you in a few.”

Frank nodded, watching him climb out of the car and walk towards the doors that led into Huglin’s office, only for him to turn and send her a playful wink before he disappeared inside. Buck waited for Frank to climb into the front, fingers ghosting across the hem of her skirt to make sure she wasn’t about to flash Bucky’s best friend and show off her stockings. 

Buck resumed their drive once she was situated, both of them sitting in a brief, but awkward silence as he continued on down the road. “Thank you for picking us up,” Frank gave him a small smile as Buck nodded, eyes glued to the space in front of him. “And for whatever else you did last night and this morning to keep him out of trouble.”

A slow smile crossed his face and he glanced over at her as he pulled to a stop several hits away from where they dropped off Bucky, “It’s a full time job keeping John Egan out of trouble.” 

Frank laughed, nodding her head as Buck shut the car off, “I believe that wholeheartedly.”

“He’s a good guy.” Buck slipped out of the Jeep, watching Frank do the same, “Did you eat breakfast?”

Frank shook her head no, “I don’t think breakfast came with my room package.”

Buck laughed, nodding forwards towards the Officers’ Mess, “C’mon—they should have some food still…I’ll tell ‘em you can have Bucky’s rations.”

Frank chuckled as she followed Buck into the dining room, the blonde holding the door open for her as she ducked inside. It was similar to the mess at Ratcliffe, although there were considerably less tables and no piano in the corner. Dark blue curtains sat on either side of the windows and Frank let Buck select a table about halfway through, but when he went to pull out her chair she waved him off, although he didn’t listen. “We’re at war, Major,” Frank slipped into her chair before Buck moved to his across from her, “you’ve got more important things to do than pull out my chair.”

“I’ve always got time to pull out someone’s chair,” Buck leaned back in his chair, watching Frank settle in her own, “especially for my best friend’s girl.”

Frank rested her hand on the white table cloth, fingers brushing the silver fork, “Is that what he calls me?”

Buck shook his head no, a smile playing across his face, “I can see what’s in front of my face—he doesn’t have to tell me anything.”

Frank hummed, sliding one ankle behind the other as Buck lifted a hand to motion at the server, the nicely dressed man nodding back to him, “What—”

The door behind her opened again and she heard Buck sigh from his seat, her head turning to see one of the boys she met the other day, as well as one she hadn’t seen before. “I thought I saw you come in here,” Curt walked towards their table, a lopsided grin across his face, “I couldn’t not say hello to Bucky’s girl, now could I?”

“Something tells me she’d be ok if you didn't,” Buck watched Curt slip into the chair beside Frank, his hand held out to her. 

“Curt Biddick—we met the other day, but only briefly.”

“I remember,” Frank shook his hand and Curt only shot Buck a pointed look. 

“This is John Brady,” Buck introduced the other man, Frank giving him a smile as he nodded to her, taking the empty seat beside Buck, “John—this is Stella Frank.”

“How are you all enjoying England?” Frank asked. 

“So far so good,” Brady lifted a hand towards the server to request a cup of coffee, “the landscape is beautiful.”

“Weather’s shit, though,” Curt made a face, “we had to walk home in the rain last night. Why is there so much mud?”

“I’m not sure God himself could answer that question,” Frank shook her head, Brady smiling as Curt snorted. “How was your night of hustling darts?”

“I knew he’d talk about us.” Curt reached across the table to hit Brady’s arm with the back of his hand, “What’d he say? He tell you he owes me three bucks?”

Frank watched the server come over with two cups of coffee, one for her and one for Brady before he let her know he’d have a plate for her in a moment, “He failed to mention he owed you any money.”

“Sounds like Bucky,” Curt rolled his eyes. “Are you any good at darts?”

Frank shook her head once, “I can’t say I’m any good—no.”

“You can’t hustle her,” Buck shook his head, “he’d kill you.”

“Who said anything about hustling?” Curt held his hands up innocently before he turned to look at Frank, “Talk to me about the ATA.”

“What do you want to know?” Frank reached for her cup of coffee, the warm liquid soothing her throat, “Are you interested in joining?”

“Yes,” Curt nodded and Brady snorted as Buck groaned, “yes—if every pilot looks like you, I’ll join right now. Where do I sign?”

“I think you may already be signed up for this war,” Frank reached over to pat his arm and the boys across the table snickered, “But if you lose an arm or something, I’ll put in a good word.”

“It can be your fall back,” Brady smiled, “when Huglin kicks you out, you can scurry over there.”

“Happily,” Curt leaned back in his chair to allow the server to reach across and place Frank’s breakfast in front of her, the Captain nodding thankfully to him before he disappeared. Frank reached for the toast, taking a bite of the corner as she listened to Curt and Brady argue about who was going to be dismissed first in their Bomb Group. 

“Talk to me about your pilots,” Curt eventually turned his attention back to Frank as she sipped her coffee, “specifically the one who flew in the other day.”

“Easy,” Buck shook his head, “Benny’s already got his eyes on her.”

“Did he proposed?” Curt lifted his eyebrows as Buck shook his head, “Unless he proposed, she’s fair game.”

“Amelia’s first love is the sky,” Frank shook her head as she picked up her fork and scraped up a bit of the eggs before taking a bite, “so you’ll have to wait until after the war to try anything with her, I’m afraid.”

Curt seemed to process her words, giving Buck and Brady a sideways glance, “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“I don’t think I can’t wait that long,” Brady said, “imagine how insufferable you’d be if you had to wait until the end of the war to find a girl.”

“Who else?” Curt looked at Frank with wide eyes, “There’s gotta be more dames that look like you two in the ATA…”

“I’ll see who I can come up with,” Frank smiled and Buck shook his head at her, eyes crinkling as he observed the entire conversation. 

“I’m gonna get a friend," Curt wiggled his eyebrows at the boys across the table

Brady rolled his eyes, “The day Curt Biddick writes to a girl is the day pigs fly.”

“I’d write to a girl!” Curt seemed offended, his eyes widening, “I just don’t want anything serious. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing at all, my friend,” Buck shook his head, “keep your eyes on the sky and we’ll all be just fine.”

“Are you both pilots?” Frank asked, eyebrows raised as she took another bite of toast. 

Brady nodded, “Afraid so,” he shot a look towards Curt and everyone chuckled, “some better than others…”

“Shouldn’t talk about yourself like that,” Curt’s reply was quick and Frank shook her head as she took another bite of her eggs, glancing over at Buck to see him roll his eyes playfully. “You’ll be a decent pilot one day, Brady.”

“Do you only fly around England?” Brady ignored Curt’s response, eyes back on Frank. 

Frank nodded, reaching for her napkin to dab at her mouth, “The boys are allowed to fly to the rest of the continent, but they made it protocol not long ago that women weren’t to leave England.”

“That’s bullshit.” Buck shot his friend a look and Curt only shrugged, “What? It is.”

“I think many would agree with you,” Frank nodded, “I was supposed to fly to France a month or so ago, but the change was made before I could go.”

“What do you primarily fly?”

“The Fortress.” Frank said as she leaned back, “There’s only a handful or so of us who can fly the Class Fives. If I’m not flying that, then it’s the Lancaster. Depending on if it’s to the RAF or the USAAF.”

“Fascinating,” Brady reached for his coffee, “I had no idea.”

“It gets complicated,” Frank said, “depending on the base there’s sometimes a lot of hoops we have to fly through.”

Before anyone was able to ask any further questions the doors opened and in walked Bucky, hat tucked under his arm. “Thought I’d find you Dodos here.”

“Shouldn’t call your girl a Dodo.”

Bucky clapped Curt’s shoulder once he reached their table, squeezing his friend tightly, “She knows I’m not callin’ her that, Dodo.”

Everyone laughed as Bucky moved to stand behind Frank, hands running along her shoulders after he released Curt, “Good—you found breakfast. Don’t want you goin’ home on an empty stomach.”

Curt made kissing noises and Brady snorted into his coffee before Bucky nudged Curt’s chair, “Don’t you two have some flight checks to go over before the practice flight later?”

Curt mumbled something about corruption as he begrudgingly stood to his feet, bowing to Frank before Brady nodded his own goodbye, the two exiting the Officers’ Mess a moment later. “Thanks for getting her set up,” Bucky kept his hands on Frank’s shoulders as Buck moved to his own feet, adjusting his jacket as he stood. 

“Anytime,” Buck reached for his hat before nodding to Frank, “Safe travels back to base.”

Frank lifted her fork in response, “Have fun flying later!”

Bucky slipped into the chair beside her once Buck left the building, “I’m glad you’re eating—didn’t want to have to force feed you before you left.”

“Hopefully it won’t get to that,” Frank reached for her last piece of toast pointedly, “I get up late—sometimes there’s not time and if I’m flying there’s rarely anything but coffee at the other stations.”

Bucky didn’t seem to like her response, shaking his head as he angled his body in his chair, elbow leaning against the table, “I’ll call Dorothy if I have to.”

“Sure,” Frank took a long sip of her coffee, “You do that and you’ll have to find a new pilot to bring you planes.”

Bucky laughed, leaning over to take her chin between his finger and thumb, brushing his lips across hers after she placed her coffee back on the table, “Promise me you’ll do better about taking care of yourself.”

“I’ll do my best,” Frank pecked his lips, “What did Huglin want?”

“We needed to go over the maneuvers for this afternoon.” Bucky rolled his eyes as they both sat back in their chairs, Bucky watching Frank take another bite of eggs, “The boys didn’t give you a hard time, right? Curt bother you too much?”

“Curt’s a pussy cat,” Frank shook her head as Bucky snorted loudly, “one who just wants a few scratches.”

Bucky hummed, “He’ll find someone to pet him soon enough.”

Frank giggled at that, wiping her hands on the napkin before glancing down at the watch on her wrist, “As much as I don’t want to, I think I need to get to the train station.”

“The time has come,” Bucky pushed himself out of his chair, holding his hand out to Frank before he pulled her out of hers, arm winding around her to dangle over her shoulder as they walked towards the entrance, “But I’ll see you back here tomorrow.”

Frank nodded, pausing near the doors as Bucky brought her into his side for a quick kiss, lips brushing against one another a few times as she whispered, “I’ll be the one in the big plane.”

Notes:

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Chapter 18: XVIII

XVIII.

“How was your adventure yesterday?”

Frank lifted her eyes from where she was busy mending a rip in one of her skirts, fingers pausing after she slipped the needle through the material to look at Dorothy. She arrived back at Ratcliffe a handful of hours ago, and after she confirmed there were no flights or assignments for her, Frank went through the motions of doing all the boring things she put off each week, one of which was attempting to mend her clothes. “It went well,” Frank winced when she poked herself with the sharp end of the needle, biting down on her lower lip as she managed to pull the thread through again, “we flew to a handful of places and everyone was very nice.”

“Learn anything?”

Frank gave Dorothy another suspicious glance, needle and thread paused as she tried to dissect the two word sentence, “Was I supposed to learn something?” Dorothy only shrugged but Frank narrowed her eyes, arms lowering until she placed the skirt, needle, and thread down on the bed beside her, “You’ve got a look on your face—what am I missing here?”

Dorothy laughed softly, moving to take a seat across from Frank on the bed beside hers, “Nothing, I was just inquiring as to how your flight was. That’s all, I just thought perhaps you’d have something to say.”

Frank shook her head no, partly because she wasn’t sure what she was allowed to say and partly because she wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t a test, “It was fine, really. We flew to a few towns, I helped mainly with take offs and landings, and then we wound up back in London. That’s all.”

Dorothy quirked an eyebrow, “That’s all?”

Frank exhaled as she rolled her eyes, shoulders falling, “Alright—who told you?”

Dorothy laughed, shaking her head as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, “No one told me. I was in London yesterday for a meeting and when I tried to look you up, they told me you never returned. Obviously I was worried sick, so I tracked down George, pulled him out of a pub and prepared myself to demand your whereabouts, and he told me he flew you to Thorpe Abbotts for the evening. Said you had a bit of a rough end to your journey.” Dorothy’s face changed instantly, gone was her curious CO and in her place was her concerned best friend, “Are you alright?”

Frank nodded, hand lifting to run along her forehead, images of what she saw the day before flashing through her mind, her brain running through the memories of the destroyed buildings and towns, the hospital and the houses, the brunette doing her best to ignore the bits and pieces of people’s lives she spotted in the rubble, although the small partially intact doll under a particularly gnarled piece of metal would bother her for years to come—what those poor people must’ve gone through when the bombs hit their home. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright. I just…there’s a lot of destruction out there and it was the first time I witnessed it. That’s all.”

Dorothy hummed, head nodding, but she didn’t say anything. Dorothy was from England, she very well knew what her home country had seen over the course of the war, what she had seen, and it was no surprise to her that Frank finally had a chance to see the aftermath of the bombings. “Major Egan help sooth you?”

Frank laughed at that, grateful for her friend and subject change, even if a light blush covered her cheeks and warmed her neck, “If I tell you yes, are you going to interrogate me?”

“No,” Dorothy snorted, “I don’t much care what he looks like without his uniform on or what he packs in his trousers. I just want to make sure you’re well and happy.”

“I’m happy,” Frank nodded, finger brushing the hem of her skirt for something to do, eyes flickering down to look at her shoes before returning to Dorothy’s face, “or at least, I think I am.”

“I think you are,” Dorothy said after she silently considered Frank’s words for a few moments, “I think you might also be in lo—”

Frank shook her head, cutting off Dorothy’s words quickly, “I’m not ready for that. I just want to take things slow and as they come. I care for him and that’s all I want to say right now.”

“Fair enough,” Dorothy nodded, hand extending to motion towards Frank’s skirt and sewing kit, the brunette happily passing it over to her friend. Dorothy was quick with the needle, much quicker than Frank was and even before she finished her next sentence she was nearly done, “But take it from me,” Dorothy tied off the knot, Frank watching with interest, eyes wide at how quickly Dorothy had stitched up the rip, her fingers working expertly to tie off two more knots before ripping the thread with her teeth, “don’t let things go unsaid too long, alright? We’re at war and if there’s something you want to say, or feel like you need to say, you should do so.”

Frank tilted her head as Dorothy brushed off the lint on her skirt before handing it back over, Frank running her fingers along the invisible mend, admiring her friend’s handywork, “Speaking from experience, are we?”

Dorothy only shrugged, eyes averting momentarily before they returned to Frank’s, “Just keep it in mind, alright?

“I promise.” Frank pulled her legs up to sit under them, leaning back on one hand as she watched Dorothy pick off a stray piece of thread from the skirt, “Who did you say you met in London, again?”

“I didn’t.”

Frank grinned and Dorothy stared back at her with a blank face, “Right, right. So…a meeting?”

“Yes.” Dorothy’s response was far too quick for it to have been just a meeting.

“With?”

“You have your secrets,” Dorothy said, “and I have mine.”

“But your secrets are much more interesting,” Frank fell to the side dramatically as Dorothy pushed herself up into a standing position, staring down at her friend, unamused look across her face as she slowly morphed back into Commanding Officer, “just tell me one.”

“No,” Dorothy laughed at that, taking a few steps away, “I cannot tell you anything. Just like you cannot tell me what you did yesterday. That’s how secrets work.”

Frank only huffed, “But is it a work secret or a you secret?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re implying.” Dorothy adjusted her blazer, “Now, are you coming to dinner or not?”

Frank rolled off her bed, reaching for her own jacket to keep the cooler evening air off her skin, “I hope it’s editable tonight.”

“Probably some kind of potato,” Dorothy waited for Frank at the door, the girls walking down the hallway and then out of the dormitory together, “perhaps a soup. Did you eat lunch?”

“No,” Frank shook her head as the girls made the long walk across the base towards the mess, “by the time I got back, it was already over.”

“You need to be better at eating,” Dorothy nudged Frank’s elbow, “please tell me you had breakfast?”

“Yes,” Frank said, moving out of the way of a few bicycles, “I ate breakfast and you two better not be in cahoots.”

“Who?” Dorothy’s eyebrows lifted. 

“You know who.”

“I don’t, swear.” Dorothy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips, “Oh! Has Major Egan already caught on to your not-eating habits?”

Frank made the turn, the girls cutting behind a few of the buildings to get there faster, which involved hopping over a few wooden crates, “He’s observant.”

“Finally, someone to help me,” Dorothy sighed dramatically and Frank rolled her eyes, “keeping you fed and alive is rather a challenging task. I’m glad we can share the load. Perhaps he can take Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays and I’ll look after you Thursday through Sunday.”

“Ha-ha,” Frank shot her a flat look and Dorothy grinned back, “you two are so funny. Did he call you?”

“He didn’t,” Dorothy promised, “I haven’t spoken with him since he was here on base. Promise.”

Frank allowed the conversation to trail off, not having much else to say on the matter and feeling a little self continuous about two people now watching what she ate, and by the time they reached the Officers’ Mess, Dorothy seemed to have picked up on her change of mood. “Darling,” Dorothy pulled her aside to let a few other uniformed people walk into the hall, “I only pay attention because I care about you. After you fainted back in November…”

“I know,” Frank nodded, “I know, I promise I’m eating. Some days it’s just harder to find something than others. I’m glad he offered breakfast this morning, and I appreciate your concern.”

Dorothy gave her a soft smile before squeezing her shoulder, the girls disappearing into the mess a moment later. Amelia and Rose were already seated at their normal table and Frank couldn’t help the dread that filled her chest when she saw what they were having for dinner, her eyes shifting to Rose as she took a seat across from Amelia. “Vegetable stew,” Dorothy commented, eyeing the bowl and slices of bread on the table, “lovely. That’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine too,” Rose’s response was too quick and Frank inwardly groaned, “it’s got carrots…potato…I do love potatoes, they’re thick and sometimes if it’s home grown the size is just unusually long…”

Amelia snorted into her glass and Frank exhaled with a tilt of her head, “We get it, you love potatoes.”

“Not as much as I love squash—”

“Let’s not discuss Major Egan’s penis tonight, please.” Dorothy reached for her napkin, eyes shifting to the right where a few officers sat at nearby tables, “The dining room is unusually busy. Let’s keep it clean.”

“Another time,” Ameila reached over to pat Rose’s hand and Rose only rolled her eyes playfully. 

It only took a handful of seconds for Rose to change topics, bringing the spoon up to her lips to slurp quietly before swallowing the hot liquid, “Amelia got a letter today.”

“From your parents?” Dorothy asked, waving over the server and motioning to herself and Frank, “Or one of your brothers…?”

“No.” Amelia shot a look that was uncharacteristically sharp towards Rose and Frank looked on in amusement as Dorothy’s eyebrows rose, “From Thorpe Abbotts.”

Dorothy’s expression fell almost as quickly as it lifted and Frank’s smile widened out, “Please tell me it’s from—”

“Yes,” Amelia sighed unhappily, “he wrote me a letter.”

“What does it say?” Dorothy asked as their server approached, placing the bowls of soup down in front of them. 

“Can’t be that bad,” Rose nudged Amelia’s foot with her own under the table, “unless he looks like a donkey’s ass.” Rose’s attention shifted back to Frank as she loudly whispered, “Does he look like a donkey’s ass?”

Frank shook her head, “No—DeMarco’s attractive. Dark hair, dark eyes, nice smile.”

“DeMarco,” Rose’s eyes twinkled and Amelia only slouched further in her chair at the way Rose drew out the name, “we finally have a name. Is it first or last?”

“Last,” Frank hadn’t yet caught onto Amelia’s stern look, far too busy swirling her spoon around in her soup, “his first name’s Berna—ow, fuck!”

“Easy,” Dorothy warned, looking back and forth between Amelia and Frank as Frank reached down to rub her shin, “try to keep the violence to a minimum.”

“He owns the dog I was telling you about…” Frank tried to help Amelia out, but the tall blonde only narrowed her eyes further, “You know what, I’m just going to sit quietly for the rest of dinner.”

Rose snorted at that before her focus turned to Amelia, “Tell me about him. Is there something in the water at Thorpe Abbotts that I need to know about?”

“No,” Amelia shook her head, “I have absolutely no interest in him or returning his correspondence. I didn’t come over here to find a husband, and I don’t intend to change that now.”

“A husband?” Rose scoffed at that as she reached for her own glass to sip, “Who said anything about a husband? Have you ever heard of a nice evening?”

“It seems pointless,” Amelia shrugged at that, “I mean, yes, I’m fine with an evening or a weekend leave type situation. But letters? No, thank you. If I wanted to write letters, I would have married a soldier.”

“You could put that in your letter,” Frank mumbled as she swallowed some of her soup, “hey, nice to meet you, but I only want to pet your dog and maybe fool around a bit.”

Dorothy sighed heavily and Rose grinned at that, Amelia shrugging slightly after she considered Frank’s words, “I guess. I don’t know. Writing back feels like I’d be giving him false hope.”

“What kind of dog?” Rose asked after several long seconds went by, Dorothy eyeing the redhead with suspicion, “Why don’t we have any dogs on base?”

“Because we’re a respectable military opperat—”

“A big dog,” Amelia interrupted Dorothy, “fluffy and so sweet. They call him Meatball.”

Rose scrunched up her face and Frank couldn’t help but laugh at that, Dorothy chuckling under her breath, “Why do men name things so terribly? Poor thing—imagine a name like Meatball.”

“He’s adorable,” Amelia tapped her spoon against the side of her bowl, “I don’t know. I’ll think about writing him back.”

“What did he say?” Frank asked, testing the waters to see if Amelia would open up to them. 

“He said it was nice to meet me,” Amelia said, “and that he wouldn’t mind continuing to get to know me, even if it meant writing letters. He asked me some questions, where I’m from, how long I’ve been here…you know, the works.”

“The works,” Rose snorted and Dorothy smiled back, “I think he’s too nice for you. Probably best to just ignore it.”

“Just think about it,” Frank shot Rose a look and their friend only rolled her eyes back, “even if it’s just a weekend thing later on. It’s nice to talk to someone.”

“Your Air Exec has you all soft,” Rose waved her spoon towards Frank, “three weeks ago you would’ve told her to trash the letter.”

“She’s not wrong,” Dorothy shot Frank a pointed look as Amelia nodded in agreement, “It’s nice that you and Rose aren’t both in the ‘we hate talking to men’ camp.”

“Oh no,” Frank shook her head, “no, make no mistake, I’m still there. I’m just saying it’s ok to talk to one if they’re nice.”

“I’ve been so busy,” Amelia leaned forward to look at Frank, “is Major Egan nice? How is he?”

“Oh, he’s really nice,” Rose scooped some stew onto her spoon as she glanced over at Amelia, “six times nice…”

Amelia lifted an eyebrow, “...six times nice…?”

“Ignore her.” Frank kicked Rose’s foot under the table and Rose half laughed, half groaned, “Yes. He’s nice. I enjoy talking to him.”

“And fucki—” Dorothy reached across the table to tap her spoon against Rose’s bowl in warning, eyes shifting around them pointedly, as Rose cleared her throat, “—spending time in his company…”

Dorothy nodded her approval and Amelia leaned back in her chair, watching as Frank pulled off parts of her bread to dunk into her stew, “I’m glad Major Egan is nice,” she said after a few more moments and Frank could feel her face warm slightly, “you deserve someone to treat you nicely.”

“You know, Dot,” Rose looked over at the commander, “I could take the next ferry over, meet someone nice. Frank needs some help with the Fortresses, you know. It’s a big plane…”

“Nice try,” Dorothy shook her head, “I cannot have all of you in East Anglia. You’re going to Leeds tomorrow and Frank will continue on to Thorpe Abbotts as scheduled.”

“I’m going to get to that base,” Rose muttered and Amelia laughed, “find out what’s in the water there. Pet a dog.”

“I’ll see if there are any special events coming up,” Frank smiled as Dorothy rolled her eyes, “I’m sure I could find someone to take you dancing.” Rose nodded frantically and Dorothy only shook her head as the girls fell into a fit of giggles.

---

Situated just south of Oxford was the small village of Harwell, where Frank found herself late the next morning after taking the train from Ratcliffe. She was scheduled to ferry a pilot from Harwell to Cambridge before picking up the Fortress from Boeing’s own ferry before she would continue on to Thorpe Abbotts. Or so she thought.

The wind was just barely blowing, having settled down sometime between stepping off the train and arriving at the airfield, Frank taking a moment after smoothing down her coveralls to tuck the baby hair she had in front of her ears behind them. It was a decent day, the sky was clear and the sun shined in a way that reminded her of good memories back home and she couldn’t deny the anticipation she felt in her stomach at seeing Bucky in just a handful of hours, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips at him having successfully changed her flight time to the afternoon instead of the morning. 

“I think you’re my pilot! Are you Stella Frank?” 

Frank turned her head to see a younger man in an RAF uniform approaching, blonde hair a half smile across his own face as he lifted his hand towards her. “That’s me—Captain Stella Frank. Are you going to Cambridge?”

“That’s correct,” he was taller than her, but only by a few inches, “I got stuck here last night—my train was delayed and by the time I arrived my ferry pilot was already long gone. You run a tight ship, eh?”

“Most of the time,” Frank walked with the pilot away from the control tower and down the ramp towards the tarmac, “one ferry affects another and if you get off schedule it’s easy to blow the entire day.”

“I see,” he nodded, “I’ll have to remember that going forward, wouldn’t want to upset my pilot now would I?” Frank left the slightly flirtatious tone alone, turning her head to the left when she heard a massive crash coming from one of the hangers. “That didn’t sound good, now did it?”

“No…” Frank rested her hands along her parachute straps simply for something to do, already mentally preparing herself for a chatterbox the entire flight to Cambridge, “it didn’t.”

“What are we flying in?”

“A Fairchild.” Frank squinted down the runway towards one of the furthest hangers, where she could make out the blue and yellow silhouette of the Fairchild PT-19, “It appears Cambridge needs a trainer plane and you need to get to Cambridge, so it’s a win-win for the ATA.”

“Two birds, one stone. Lovely.”

Frank snorted at that, “More like one pilot, two stones, I think.”

“That’s—”

Before the man was able to begin his sentence, let alone finish his thought, the all too familiar siren sounded. It was haunting and piercing all at the same time and Frank felt her body tense up immediately, eyes lifting to the sky out of habit. This wasn’t her first round with the sirens, nor would it be her last, but her body seized up the same way it had before. Her shoulders stiffened and her stomach tightened, footsteps bringing her to an immediate halt just on the edge of the ramp. 

Men began running from the hangers and Frank did a half-turn, eyes raking across the base to see more men and a few dozen women starting their walk towards the shelter. It was an old song and dance to many of the British by now, but Frank felt her stomach bubble as she and her passenger started to move in that direction. However, what they hadn’t accounted for was friendly fire. The coughing started before the words reached her ears, the wind picking up a moment later and sending the pepper-smelling gas in their direction, “Tear gas!”

The people in the surrounding area, if they had access to one, donned their gas masks and Frank had to reach for the handrail as her eyes started to burn, her throat itching. The man she was speaking to shouted to a few of the men nearby and it wasn’t but a moment later that he directed her towards one of the nearby buildings. The first two buildings they tried refused them entrance, the voice over the loudspeaker announcing that it was a “local gas threat” rather than an actual air raid and eventually Frank and her passenger, as well as a handful of men and one Red Cross girl were able to take shelter in the mess hall. 

“Oh, fuck,” one of her fellow ATA pilots swore as he stumbled into a chair, dabbing at his eyes frantically, nose running like a faucet. Frank reached for one of the chairs herself, leaning over as the lingering gas continued to sting her eyes and burn her throat, the inside of her nostrils feeling like someone had shoved a match up her nasal passages.

“Where are your gas masks?” One of the RAF pilots asked as he flung the door open, gas mask prominently across his face, “Did you not hear the speaker? You’re supposed to don your mask as you walk, it’s just one of our own bombs—tear gas accidentally went off.”

“We don’t fly with them,” Frank coughed, shaking her head as she lifted a hand to brush a few tears away from her eyes, each time she blinked it seemed like the burning only intensified, “they’re not part of our kit.”

“Rubbish,” the pilot shook his head, and from where Frank sat he looked more like a figure from a science fiction novel than a pilot, his accented voice distorted through the mask, “you need to get one, then. You never know when the Germans will drop the gas on us all.”

“Yeah, well,” the man a few chairs down spoke with a thick accent, but Frank didn’t recognize it, his dark eyes squinting as he rubbed at them frantically, “it seems like we might gas ourselves out first, eh?”

The pilot didn’t seem to care for much more conversation and left them not long after, a few of the men moving to rummage through the mess to find something to help wipe the residue off their faces. “Don’t rub,” another man corrected the ATA pilot sitting down, “it only makes it worse. We’ll find a cloth—it’s best to pat.”

“It’s always an adventure out here.” Frank turned her attention to her passenger as he leaned over, resting his hands on his knees as he squinted and blinked rapidly, “Can’t say I’ve experienced tear gas yet.”

Frank inhaled through her nose, but she wasn’t sure if it was better or worse than breathing through her mouth, her entire face itching as her nose began to run, the irritant clearly doing exactly what it was designed to do. “Something tells me if you’re out here long enough,” Frank closed her eyes tightly, hoping to get a little relief from the burning as it seemed to intensify, “you’ll experience everything.”

---

All air traffic was halted out of Harwell long enough Frank briefly worried she wasn’t going to make it to Thorpe Abbotts before sunset, but just as the sun started it’s decent downward did she find herself bringing the B-17 down onto the familiar runway, her eyes still stinging from time to time from the accidental tear gassing. Never had she been so happy to get off a base than she was three hours ago when they were finally cleared to take off for Cambridge. Not wanting to waste any more time, she quickly went through her landing procedures and checklists before jumping from the Fortress, inhaling the fresh air as she reached down to grab her bag. 

“Thought you weren’t going to make it!” 

Frank turned to see Bucky driving towards her, sunglasses on and a familiar smile across his face. “So did I,” Frank couldn’t help but sigh as he shut off the jeep and tucked his sunglasses into his jacket, eyes trained on her as he approached, “it’s been a day.”

“Yeah?” He reached her in a few more quick steps, hand lifting to cup the side of her neck, tilting her head back to better see her face as his thumb brushed her jaw, “You’re all red and splotchy, doll.”

“Tear gas,” Frank closed her eyes as the pad of his thumb ran just under her eye, soothing the itchy and uncomfortable stretch of skin ever so slightly, “a bomb went off, someone wasn’t paying attention or something. Friendly fire incident, I’m told.”

“Wouldn’t be so friendly if you missed your window,” Bucky tilted her head again, eyes raking across her face for anything out of place, searching to make sure she truly was ok, and he was happy to see she seemed mostly unharmed, her skin just a bit irritated, “they’d have an annoyed pilot and an Air Exec on the horn.”

Frank laughed at that, moving to wrap her fingers around his wrist before she turned her head into his palm and kissed it softly, “That would be something. Everyone’ll be wondering why Thorpe Abbotts cares about a friendly fire mishap at Harwell.”

“Harwell,” Bucky snorted as if he knew where the base even was, Frank chuckling softly as he dropped his hand a moment later, “those bastards don’t know north from east. No wonder they set off their own bomb.”

Frank’s chuckles extended into laughter as she shook her head, letting Bucky take her bag from her as she slid into his side easily, allowing him to escort her towards the waiting jeep. The drive back to base was quiet and quick and Bucky rested his hand across her knee, long fingers drifting over her thigh every few seconds until the truck came to a stop and they climbed out. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Bucky led her towards the medical tent she was becoming too familiar with, “I’ve gotta go sign off on the Fort and then I’ll pick you up here, alright?”

Frank nodded and watched Bucky move back towards the tower after he walked her to medical, and when she ducked in she couldn’t help but smile at the girls inside. “Frank!” Helen was the first to greet her, quickly standing from her chair, her eyes widening once she realized this wasn’t just a quick hello, “Are you alright?”

“I got caught in some tear gas,” Frank sniffed, something she’d been doing for the better part of the day it seemed, “Bucky dropped me off on his way to the tower.”

“Come in,” Helen ran her hand down Frank’s arm as she led her towards the chair she was sitting in, “let me see if someone’s available. I was just about to pack up and head out too.”

One of the nurses was thankfully able to help Frank get a little relief, Helen watching on with wide eyes as the nurse slowly poured cold water along Frank’s eyes before the doctor gave her a once over, making sure that it was just irritation and nothing too damaging. Bucky returned just as Frank was drying her face, moving to stand beside Helen who had a cup of coffee waiting for Frank when she was done. 

“How is she?”

“I don’t know how she does it,” Helen glanced over at Bucky, eyeing the concern across his own face, “I’d be a blubbering wreck by now, I think.”

“Nah,” Bucky nudged her with his elbow and Helen smiled, “you’re a tough one, I can tell. You’d be fine.”

“I’m not so sure.” Helen stepped forward to hand Frank the coffee and she nodded thankfully to her new friend, Bucky’s eyes never leaving her as he took in her freshly cleaned, albeit still a little blotchy face. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Frank forced her fingers around the mug as she sipped from it, trying to keep her hands from rubbing her face and eyes as the doctor instructed, “I’m told to take a cold shower and get out of these clothes. The sooner I can do that, the faster the irritants should dissipate.”

“Well—if the doctor insists…” Bucky watched Frank roll her eyes playfully as Helen blushed softly. 

“Do you need any clothes?” Helen asked. 

Frank shook her head slightly, knowing she had a change of clothes and her personal items stuffed into her bag nearby, “I’ll be alright, but thank you.”

Helen seemed to catch on to Frank’s unspoken words, her eyes flickering between the two, who seemed to only be drifting closer and closer together. Bucky’s eyes never left Frank for very long and Frank kept glancing over at him knowingly over the top of her mug. “I leave her in your care, Major Egan.”

Bucky winked back at Helen and Frank finished her coffee before thanking her softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I think we’ll be back here tomorrow,” Helen nodded, “I’ll be the one on the bus. Can’t miss us.”

Frank waved goodbye before Bucky led her out of the hut and to the waiting jeep. The man she was pretty sure went by Kidd was in the driver’s seat, giving her a half smile as Bucky helped her into the back before he climbed into the passenger's seat. “Do you always get door to door service?”

“Only when a pretty girl’s been gassed,” Bucky called over his shoulder, Kidd glancing over at her to confirm she was settled before he took off towards the village, Bucky clapping him on the shoulder, “and Jack here doesn’t mind, now does he?”

“Whatever keeps you happy, Bucky.”

“See,” Bucky’s smile covered most of his face and Frank couldn’t help but laugh as he shifted in his seat to better look at her, “he’s happy to do it. Whatever keeps me happy.”

“Something tells me that’s the entire Eighth's motto.”

Kidd surprised both Frank and Bucky by laughing loudly, shaking his head before continuing through the base towards the nearby village. He pulled up in front of the pub not too long later and Bucky thanked him seriously as Frank climbed out of the Jeep. “And remember…” Bucky tapped the hood as he and Frank crossed in front of it, the way his arm naturally wound around her not escaping their driver at all, “You saw me come back to base around ten.”

Kidd’s only response was to shift the truck into reverse and Bucky watched the Jeep until it disappeared back in the direction it came before his full attention moved to the brunette under his arm. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Frank couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he searched her face, feeling herself warm at the intensity of his gaze. “Having a good day?’

“It’s been alright,” he ducked his head and Frank couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped her lips as he tugged her against his chest, lips finding hers a moment later, “better now.”

Frank rested her forehead against his, but she moved to cover his hand with hers as he tried to slide it around her waist to her back, “I’m probably covered in powder.”

“S’alright,” Bucky nuzzled his nose against hers, “I’ll take the chance to have you close.”

Frank melted at both his words and his next kiss, her head tilting as his free hand lifted to grasp her chin, angling her head exactly where he needed it to deepen their exchange properly. As much as she wanted Bucky to thoroughly kiss her, she eventually broke away, eyes fluttering as he rested his forehead against hers again, “We shouldn’t…not after you got in trouble…”

“Then let’s go upstairs,” Bucky’s lips just barely ghosted across hers, “get in the shower and get you cleaned up.”

“Those were my orders,” Frank kissed his bottom lip before pulling away, smiling as his eyes twinkled back at her, “it would be irresponsible of me not to follow them.”

“Can’t have that, now can we?,” Bucky caught up to her quickly, hand wrapping around her own before he led the way into the pub, Frank grinning behind him as they disappeared inside.

Notes:

SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY! Life got pretty crazy, and this chapter gave me a bit of trouble at the beginning, but I hope you all enjoyed it! I don't think next chapter will take too long to write 😉

Let me know what you think!!

 

(And, as always, if you can’t wait for the next update, you should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here!)

Chapter 19: XIX

XIX.

Frank followed Bucky up the stairs like a giddy school girl, shaking her head as he glanced over his shoulder at her, wiggling his eyebrows. She let him pull her under his arm, a spot that was quickly growing to be one of her favorites, and he pressed his finger to his lips when she let out a louder giggle after he squeezed her waist. He unlocked the room, the same one Anne had placed her in twice now, and closed the door behind them once they were fully inside. Frank slipped her shoes off pretty quickly, her feet sore from the stiffness of her boots and she just started to unbutton her coveralls when she felt Bucky slide up behind her, fingers gliding along her arms and over her shoulders, lips dragging across her ear as he took over the buttons, the tall pilot all but purring her name into her ear. 

“I’m covered in powder,” Frank leaned fully into his arms, neck extending to give him some room to play, his mustache brushing along the side of her throat as he reached the last button on her jumpsuit. 

“Would you look at that,” he held out his arm for dramatic effect despite there being nothing there, “looks like I am too.”

Frank laughed and she stepped forward to let him drag the jumpsuit off her frame before he tossed it off to the side, making a mental note to clean that later before he turned his attention to her uniform. She felt her stomach flip when Bucky’s arms wrapped fully around her, squeezing her into his chest as they stood like that for several long seconds, gently swaying back and forth in the quiet hotel room. “Missed you,” Frank found herself admitting, despite having seen him the morning before. 

“Missed you too, doll,” he kissed her ear, eyes closing as he nuzzled his nose along the stretch of skin behind it, “I like wakin’ up to you.”

“It’s a very nice change.” Frank squeezed his arms, hands running down the sleeves of his jacket, feeling the worn leather beneath her fingertips, “Do you need to go back tonight…?”

Bucky only hummed noncommittally as his arms loosened and he went to work on her jacket buttons, gently pulling the material from her shoulders once he had them undone, “We’re not flyin’ tomorrow, I don’t see why I need to stay the night in my hut.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble…”

“Let me worry about that,” his hands ran across her shoulders and down her arms, his much larger hands lacing with her smaller ones as he pressed a line of kisses from her ear to her shoulder. 

Frank felt her mind go blank as he walked them forward a few steps, hands working expertly to rid her of her uniform, her shirt landing near her jacket before her trousers hit the ground, shoes and socks coming off a moment later. Bucky was just as eager to undress himself, his own sheepskin jacket finding space on the bed and Frank worked the buttons of his shirt before she undid his belt, eyes lifting to look up at him as he watched her with a lazy smile. When he was just in his shorts and undershirt, he cupped her face and pressed a deep kiss to her lips before moving around her to walk into the attached bathroom. Frank followed after him, moving towards the sink to pull out some of the pins in her hair as the sound of the shower turning on filled the small room. Bucky was back behind her in a matter of seconds, bare arms wrapped around her stomach as he buried his face into her neck, exhaling softly, causing little goosebumps to form on her skin. 

“Cold shower, doctor’s orders,” Bucky drug his lips across her shoulder, nose brushing the strap of her bra before he kissed over her shoulder and down her arm, “but I’ll warm you up after.”

Frank could have moaned right there, her lips parting to sigh as he kissed back up her arm and over her shoulder, hands moving to rest on her waist as his fingers fanned out along her ribcage, slowly making their way up towards the band of her bra. She let his fingers walk around to unclasp it at the center of her back, turning in his arms once her hair fell over her shoulders. His fingers ran along her loosened straps before pulling it from her body, eyes flickering from hers to the newly uncovered skin. 

The undergarment landed on the floor and Frank gently slipped her hands up the front of his tank top, fingers scratching along his abdomen and she bit her lip softly as his stomach muscles rolled under her fingertips. “Ticklish, Major?”

“Little bit,” he grinned back, ducking his head to let her pull off the tank top before her hands flattened out along his chest, both of their eyes moving to watch her run them up and down his bare torso. Frank pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to his chest a few moments later and Bucky hummed his approval, hands sliding down her bare back, loving the feel of her soft skin against his, the way her breasts pushed into his chest driving him even more insane. His fingers dipped into her underwear next, large palms sliding over her ass and Frank laughed as he squeezed her into him, her arms wrapping around his neck to meet his lips for a slow kiss. 

Frank wasn’t sure she’d ever kissed this much before, she certainly hadn’t kissed like this at all before Bucky, and she couldn’t help but find herself addicted. She craved the way he tasted, a little bit of mint and a little bit of something else, the way his long nose brushed hers as he all but consumed her, his equally long fingers memorizing her body, playing her like a beloved instrument each time he stroked and squeezed. His hands were warm as they ran across her thighs and hips, her underwear landing at her feet a moment later, the thin material of his shorts the only thing separating them now. 

She let Bucky control the kiss, let him angle her head exactly where he wanted it, and despite her eyes still burning ever so slightly, she allowed herself to get lost in him, in the way his chest hair felt against her nipples, the way his calluses felt along her spine, in the way his tongue felt as it nudged and persuaded her own. Her hands flattened out as she slipped them down his stomach to the band of his shorts, the couple breaking their kiss long enough for Frank to slide them off his hips, her eyes watching as he eagerly pressed to her hip, already long and hard against her. Bucky hissed a whispered breath when her fingers just barely grazed the smooth skin at the head of his penis, his head tilting back automatically and as her thumb swiped a little harder across the tip did she push herself up onto the tips of her toes to kiss his neck. 

His Adam’s Apple was something that drove her crazy from day one, her eyes always seeming to find it when he swallowed or spoke, and she couldn’t help but press her lips to his throat, kissing and licking her way around it, feeling his evening stubble on her lips. Bucky groaned in a way that made his entire throat vibrate and Frank pressed herself closer to him, feeling one of his arms wrap around her waist as his other gently palmed her left breast, hand covering her almost completely. When she was back on her flat feet, fingers tangled in his thick hair as he kissed her fully, did she take a step back towards the shower, Bucky guiding her with his hips and hand. 

“Gonna be cold,” Bucky warned when her feet met the cool tile floor.

“Quick shower,” Frank shivered as the chilly spray hit her shoulders, “very quick.” 

“Just enough to get everything off you,” Bucky guided her in and under the water, his eyes raking over her face and body when she tilted her head back, eyes closing. 

The way the water coated her skin and slipped over her shoulders, her hair darkening, put him in a trance, his eyes glued to her as he watched this gorgeous creature in a setting he’d only fantasized about. His hands ran along her hips, mouth going dry at the way the water followed her curves, her nipples hardening dramatically in the cold water. Her neck extended, arms lifting to slide her hands over her hair, the movement giving her already full breasts more space, and it took every bit of restraint he had not to take her against the shower wall right then and there. 

He would have too, but the cold water brought him back to reality, and despite being incredibly turned on, his cock had softened in the ice cold water, his member clearly not enjoying the sudden change in temperature as goosebumps broke out along his arms and chest. And while he couldn’t exactly make love to her against the wall right now, he made a mental note to do so later in a much warmer shower, his arms moving to wrap around her waist before he dragged her against his body, his own head moving under the spray. They kissed passionately under the water, in a way that shocked them both, the sounds of shuffled footsteps drowned out by the water flowing, and Frank gasped in surprise when Bucky broke their kiss, pressed her back against the ice cold wall, and dropped his head to her chest. 

His hot mouth contrasted greatly with how cold she felt, her head thrown back as his warm breath fanned across her breast before he took one of her nipples into his mouth, her fingers immediately finding his curls as he worshiped her breasts, Frank’s moans and whimpers echoing in the shower, fingers scratching at the back of his head. The things this man could do with his mouth should’ve been illegal and Frank had to squeeze her thighs together to get just a bit of relief, lips parted as he sucked a mouth shaped bruise to the swell of her left breast, fingers tugging and teasing the nipple of her right. 

In all her time spent in the air today, especially after the air raid that turned out to just be an accident on base, she promised herself she’d let herself feel with him. Promised that she wouldn’t deny herself anything if he was willing to give it, and that she would do better about asking for what she wanted, especially after their last time together. So when the thought popped into her head, Frank allowed it to continue, lips parting as she gasped out, “Take me to bed.” Her body shivered when his icy dog tags landed between her breasts, the tall man caging her into the shower wall, head tilted down as he looked her over. 

His fingers laced with hers and he slowly lifted them up until they were above her head, his hands pressing the backs of hers flat against the shower wall as he dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers. It was a teasing kiss, one he pulled back from almost as soon as they touched and Frank whined when she tried to follow him but he only shook his head, “Ask me nicely, Captain.” Frank would’ve been a puddle on the wet floor, swirling down the drain if his hips hadn’t been against hers and she only moaned softly, her eyes searching his. There was hardly a breath of air between them and Frank tried to steal another kiss but he shook his head, smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

“Take me to bed, Major.” His body pressed her further into the wall and she moaned at the feel of him finally fully against her, his hands squeezing hers tightly, “Have your way with me. Please.” 

Her left hand dropped when Bucky released it, moving to fumble for the shower knob and they both released a sigh of relief at the freezing water coming to an end. He brought her out of the shower, and they toweled off in a way that could only be considered half-assed before Frank felt the soft mattress under her and a strong Bucky on top of her. They kissed longingly in the bedroom, their skin slowly coming out of the shock it went into during the cold shower. She could feel Bucky hardening against her thigh as he kissed his way up and down her body, his damp hair making her gasp when the droplets landed on her stomach. 

He kissed her stomach and belly button, hands sliding over hips until one grasped each of her thighs and pulled them apart, making enough space for him as he rolled off the bed, knees landing on the carpet. 

“Shit, John—” Frank gasped, her body arching off the bed as he ravished her almost immediately, “Oh my God. ”

His pace was relentless and Frank barely had enough time to process her first orgasm before he demanded another from her, tongue and fingers working in harmony to give her a second. When he went for a third Frank nearly came off the bed, fingers tangling with his hair as she pulled his head back, her chest heaving. 

Bucky slowed his pace, lips running along her thigh as he let her breathe, eyes shooting to meet hers as she propped herself up on her elbows. He kissed and nuzzled her legs and Frank fell back onto the bed as he sucked another mark onto her inner thigh before he slowly made his way back up to her. His body covered hers and Frank moaned quietly as he pressed himself fully to her, her fingers running along the muscles in his back and shoulders, happily accepting his deep kiss. She tasted herself and when they pulled away did she find herself moving, Bucky rolling them until she rested on top of him, hair curtaining around them as they kissed again. 

His hands rubbed up and down her back, fingers spread wide as he memorized the way her spine felt, nails scratching along her lower back and when she pulled away to inhale deeply she felt his fingers settle on the gentle curve of her hips, hers resting on his lower stomach, both of them taking a moment to catch their breath. Bucky’s pupils were blown and she knew hers had to be as well and she tried to inhale deeply as his eyes ran down her body, memorizing the way she looked on top of him, sat back against his hips. She walked her fingers up his stomach to his chest before she gently twirled the chain of his necklace around one, tugging him up to her for another heart-stopping kiss. 

Frank didn’t think she could ever tire of the way this man kissed, the way he made her feel like she was the only girl he’d ever kissed, even though she very well knew she wasn’t. And while that may have nicked her heart initially, the way he focused on her and used those experiences to kiss her this way, soothed her insecurities, and so she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back as best she could, Bucky falling back against the pillows with her on top of him a moment later. 

He was thick and hard against her thigh and Frank gasped when he twitched and he only chuckled softly, kissing the tip of her nose and then her chin as she pressed her forehead to his. “Please tell me you brought condoms.”

Bucky stole a kiss, hands curving over her waist, “I came prepared.” Frank laughed at that and he nuzzled her nose, “Let me grab one—”

Frank pushed herself up and off of him, but instead of letting him go search for it she moved off the bed to go find his lost article of clothing, a quick glance over her shoulder telling her he was leaned back on his elbows, a lazy smile across his face as she went to grab the box. She selected the top one before returning to the bed and he guided her back on top of him, kissing her softly before taking the latex from her and rolling it on. Frank watched with interest as he did, and Bucky’s head tilted back when she ran her fingers along his shaft, observing the way it fit around him. However, her studying the condom was put on the back burner as he tugged her down to him for a hot kiss. 

Frank hadn’t ever been on top before. Most of her sexual experiences came from frantic, ten minute jack-rabbit events. Once she’d attempted it against the wall with a fresh-faced ATA pilot after a celebratory dinner, but he hadn’t been tall enough and no matter how she angled her hips she just couldn’t get him inside her. So to say she was nervous for this position was an understatement. She let Bucky guide her, lip between her teeth as he helped position them both and when they finally connected and she eased herself down onto him did she feel both relief and pleasure wash over her. 

Bucky was gone, fingers gripping her thighs tightly as she took him all, eyes closed as they slowly began moving together and as her body molded to his, muscles squeezing him with each experimental thrust, did he let out a satisfied groan that made her stomach flip. Bucky pushed himself up into a sitting position once they both loosened up, long arms wrapping around her to keep her close as they moved and Frank pressed her forehead to his, gripping his shoulders as he took control of the pace, whispering sweet nothings into her neck and ear the entire time. Their pants mingled together, filling the space, and it didn’t take her long to get there, lips parting and slight frown appearing between her eyebrows as he coaxed her through it, praising her as she continued to rock with him, feeling so full with him under her and at this angle. 

He kissed her deeply when she tumbled over the metaphorical cliff, her body spasming over and over again as he fell after, her own orgasm triggering his. He cupped her face, pressing a series of hot and bruising kisses to her lips and when her body finally stilled and she melted into his arms did he pull away. Their foreheads pressed together and Bucky inhaled raggedly as she stroked his neck and shoulders, his own hands caressing her back soothingly. “Good?”

Frank nodded, eyes fluttering closed as she breathed him in, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck to keep them together, the cool metal of his dog tags keeping her from disappearing into dreamland completely. “Really good.”

He hummed happily as he leaned back, Frank falling down onto the bed with him. He was still buried inside of her and she gasped when he nudged her cervix, Bucky kissing her sweetly a moment later. They shared several soft and sweet kisses as they allowed their bodies to come down from the clouds and Frank felt her heart jump when he whispered her name into her ear, kissing his way across her neck to her shoulders. 

However, before either of them could get carried away for a second round or a lengthy make out session, did Frank’s stomach let out a loud growl. Bucky’s eyes crinkled and Frank buried her head into his neck as he laughed, arms wrapping around her to hug her tightly to his body. “Hungry, baby?”

“Apparently so,” Frank squeezed him intentionally and he hissed back at her, hand smoothing down her back to give her a playful swat on the ass. 

“Breakfast? Lunch?”

“Yes, no,” Frank’s back landed on the mattress after Bucky slid out of her, hovering above her to study her face, “I was hoping to get something in Cambridge, but I just wanted to get here.”

“I’ll allow it,” Bucky brushed his thumb along her bottom lip, “I doubt Anne will humor me and send up food since we’re both able to come downstairs. Are you alright going down?”

Frank nodded, watching as he pulled off and disposed of the condom before leaning back over her to kiss her softly, “I brought extra clothes.”

“Smart and beautiful,” he kissed the space between her eyebrows before pushing himself up, “we can have a quick bite and then I’ll eat my dessert up here.”

Frank fell back into the pillows with a startling laugh, cheeks warming as she shook her head. She covered her face in both embarrassment and desire, Bucky’s own laughter mixing in with hers a moment later before he ducked into the attached bathroom to gather his clothes.

---

Frank found herself tucked into a corner of the pub not long after, both of them dried off and dressed. Bucky was gone at the bar, getting drinks and ordering dinner and while he was away she couldn’t help but gaze out at the crowd. They were closest to the dart board and she watched the two English pilots play, ribbing and teasing one another as they attempted to land in the center of the wooden board. It seemed less busy than the last time she was here, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all when Bucky returned with two pints and Curt Biddick. 

“Sorry, doll,” he whispered into her ear as he situated himself beside her, arm wrapping around her body to kiss the shell of her ear. Louder he addressed his friend, “He’s not staying long.”

“Frank,” Curt leaned across the table dramatically, bumping into Bucky’s chest to take her hand and Frank laughed as he kissed it theatrically, the taller pilot shoving his friend away playfully, “lovely as ever—truly. Do they make more of you? Somewhere?”

“I’m afraid not,” Frank settled back into Bucky’s side, liking the way his arm held her close, “but I’ll keep my eyes peeled for attractive ATA pilots.”

“Please,” Curt flopped down into the chair across from the couple, “I’d do anything. Whatever you want—you name it. All the girls around here are either taken or looking for height.”

“You’ve been here less than a week, Curt.”

“Exactly,” Curt looked around to prove his point, “and everyone’s already paired off. I thought we were at war or somethin’...”

“Speaking of pairs…”

Frank turned her head as she watched both DeMarco and Buck approach a moment later, “Oh hell,” Buck shot Bucky an apologetic look, but Bucky only waved him off, “we’ll find another table…I thought this one was scoping out a seat.”

Curt scoffed, hands motioning to the empty chairs, “I found one, didn’t I?”

“At an empty table, Curt,” Buck tentatively took a seat in the chair beside the shorter man and across from Bucky, “we’ll be out of your hair soon. My apologies, Frank.”

“It’s absolutely fine, Buck,” Frank assured him as DeMarco swung a chair over to sit at the end of the table. He moved to reach for Bucky’s beer but only got his hand swatted, Curt chuckling in amusement. 

“Get your own,” Bucky pulled it away and DeMarco only whined playfully as everyone laughed. “Bad enough I let you take my table…”

“What are you two up to tonight?” Curt asked as Buck leaned back in his chair.

“Just havin’ dinner, Curt,” Bucky’s voice held a note of annoyance and Frank ran her hand along his thigh to settle him down just a little. “You all eat at the mess?”

“Mhmm,” Buck glanced over at the man beside him, “Curt wanted to try to win his money back tonight, so we thought we’d come down and watch him lose some more.”

Curt scoffed at that, glancing over his shoulder at the dart board, “Please—I’ll win my money back and then some.” Buck’s only response was unwrapping a stick of gum to bite into as DeMarco snorted with a roll of his eyes. Curt was out of his chair a moment later, moving to the recently occupied game, plucking the darts from the board a moment later. “Alright—who’s first? Frank?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have any money to lose,” she shook her head as Bucky squeezed her elbow, eyeing his friend closely. 

“I’ll go easy on you,” Curt twirled one of the darts, “I win and you can set me up with one of your friends and if I lose…”

“Curt’ll donate some of his leave to Bucky,” DeMarco’s eyebrows lifted playfully and Bucky smiled at that, Curt snorting from where he stood. 

“Sure,” Curt nodded before pointing the dart in Bucky’s direction, “once I’ve earned it, two full weekends of leave go to you, my friend.”

“She said no,” Bucky shook his head as Curt waited patiently, “you’ll have to find someone else to play with—”

Frank squeezed his thigh before she slipped out of the booth, “I’ll take your bet, Curt. I think I’ve got just the girl in mind.”

“I’ll kiss the ground you walk on.”

“I can’t wait.”

Frank took the dart Curt held out to her before he pointed down at the floor, “You’ll stand here and the whole idea is to hit the bullseye.”

“Right,” Frank rubbed the pad of her thumb along the bottom of the dart, “the middle circle?”

“Yep,” Curt threw a massive grin over his shoulder and Bucky only shook his head, fully preparing himself for having to end this game before Curt got too competitive, “and if you don’t hit the board, I won’t penalize you.”

"You're too kind."

Frank threw her first dart, watching it land on the outside edge of the board and Curt’s grin only widened out. “If you know any blondes…” he leaned back against the table and Bucky knocked the back of his knee warningly with the toe of his boot, “What? She agreed to play. She made the bet.”

“I can think of a few girls,” Frank lined herself back up with the board, a slow smile crossing her face as she switched the dart from her right hand to her left. This time when she threw, the dart sank into the middle of the board almost instantly. She turned her head to glance over her shoulder at the table of very quiet men, Curt’s jaw hanging open as he stared back at her, “But I think I’ll enjoy a nice long weekend with your Air Exec in London first.”

DeMarco laughed first and Buck only grinned widely as Bucky pushed himself out of his seat, crossed the distance to her, and kissed her deeply. Cheers erupted from around them and Frank pulled away with a healthy blush covering her face. Bucky kissed her cheek and ear as he hugged her close, “I’m so hard right now.”

“We’re in public,” she giggled back, “behave.” He grinned and stole another kiss before returning to his seat. 

“You said you didn’t know how to play!” Curt threw his hand up, “What was that?”

“I said I didn’t want to lose any money,” Frank shook her head back at him as she threw her third dart, it notching just to the right of her second, “perhaps listening is a good skill to learn before I set you up with any of my girlfriends?”

Laughter echoed all around and Bucky pushed the back of Curt’s shoulder playfully, the shorter man shaking his head in both amusement and disbelief, smile crossing his face as Frank walked back to the table and Curt stepped up to take his turn. Bucky pulled her into his lap almost immediately, kissing her softly and she only giggled, shaking her head at having a small audience of his friends. 

“Where’d you learn to play?” Buck asked once Frank was back on her feet, watching Curt throw his second dart. 

“A friend of mine,” Frank said as she looked over at DeMarco, “Amelia’s the best at darts. My first week here, a friend and I watched her hussle the boys down at the pub. She’s left handed but throws right until the boys raise the stakes and then she switches to her left hand to win. She taught a few of us to play and every so often we’ll play a round down at the pub. Most of the locals have caught on though, so it’s only the RAF boys at nearby bases that we can swindle now.” She shot Curt a pointed look as he threw his next dart, “but perhaps there’s a whole new pot of money that just flew in.”

Buck laughed and DeMarco joined in, “I’ve gotta see her again, Frank.”

“It might take a bit of convincing,” Frank gave him a gentle smile as Curt threw his third dart, ending their first round. “If you’re looking for a quick thing…you may want to reconsider.”

“She said as much,” DeMarco nodded,  “I’ll think about it.”

“Sometimes you have to put in a bit of work, Benny,” Bucky was out of his seat again, arms wrapping around Frank from behind as he kissed her cheek, “but trust me, it’s worth it.”

Frank felt her heart melt as she chuckled softly, accepting Bucky’s sweet kiss before he released her and moved towards the bar to grab their food. “I don’t know what you did to John,” Buck said once Bucky was out of earshot while Curt tallied their first round scores, “but I’ve never seen him this happy before, Frank.”

Frank only blushed, hand running down her dark green skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles either real or imaginary, “He makes me happy too, Buck.”

“I can definitely see that.”

Notes:

A little spicy, a little sweet, a little silly! We love darts with Curt! Hahahaha.

Let me know what you think! I always look forward to your thoughts!

 

(And, as always, if you can’t wait for the next update, you should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here!)

Chapter 20: XX

XX.

Four long days went by before Frank found herself leaning against the wall beside the phone, head tilted down as she waited for the operator to finish connecting her to Bucky. They kept missing one another and it seemed like whatever was currently happening across the rest of Europe was increasing both of their work loads and stress levels. Bucky was busy running drills and practice missions with his crews and Frank found herself on four, sometimes five, ferries a day. Both of them absolutely exhausted by the time the sun went down and dinner was served. 

To find herself with a free moment at the end of the day was a welcome change and she couldn’t help but sigh when the call connected and Bucky’s voice sounded on the other end. “You have no idea how badly I need to hear your voice.”

“I feel the same way, Major,” Frank echoed his sigh, shoulders connecting with the wall as she felt a large portion of her stress melt away just after hearing his voice, “it’s only been four days, but feels like forty.”

Bucky inhaled deeply and she imagined him hunched over his desk, fingers tugging on the roots of his hair as they spoke, “That it does. What are you wearing?”

Frank chuckled, glancing down at her uniform, “Just my blues, I’m afraid. Why? Are you in something slinky?”

Bucky laughed at that, swiveling his chair around to glance over his shoulder and confirm he was alone, “Also just the uniform—although I’d give you anything you asked for if you wore something slinky next time I saw you.”

“Anything, you say?”

“Name your price, baby.”

Frank chuckled softly, shaking her head as she thought over the many satin sets she had in her trunk, something she spent a lot of time thinking about lately and if she wanted to share that part of herself with him, “I’ll see what I can rustle up and surprise you with.” She shifted from one foot to the other, “How was your day?”

“Long,” Bucky groaned slightly, “I’m exhausted—I don’t think I’ve felt this tired since training. I’ve been in meetings all day, it seems. How was yours?”

“Also long,” Frank exhaled, “I’ve been flying since just after sunrise. A few Red Cross ferries, and I’ve dropped two planes while also bringing pilots from one base to another.”

“It’s heavy right now,” Bucky shifted, wishing he could say more, wishing he could ask her more questions, but both of them knowing he couldn’t over the phone. Testing the waters, he ran his thumb along the top of his pen, “Seems like the crowds are getting bigger each time the Yankees play.”

Frank paused at that, mind running over his words before she responded, “It does seem that way—more support makes for more noise in the stands, or so I’m told.”

“Buck’s in the line up tomorrow,” Bucky said after a moment, his voice dropping and she could pick up on the emotion behind his words, “Curt and DeMarco are playing too—first game of the season.”

“Oh Bucky…” Frank bit down on her lip, shaking her head sadly as she heard him sigh unhappily, “It doesn’t feel like you’ve had enough practice yet.”

“Coach thinks we gotta get movin’,” Bucky said and Frank wished they were together, wished she could slide her arms around him and kiss his neck as they held one another, memories of them tangled in both the bed sheets and once another a few nights ago filling her mind, remembering how Bucky had taken her upstairs and made love to her well into the early morning hours after she beat Curt at darts. They fell asleep together not long after they cleaned up, Bucky tucking her under his chin and while Frank normally slept with her back to his chest, having her face buried in his neck and shoulder with his arms wrapped protectively around her was a welcome change. 

“I have every bit of faith that they’ll win the game,” Frank said a moment later, “there’s a reason they’re playing.”

“I hope you’re right, doll,” Bucky sounded more exhausted than he originally did and she wished she could run her hands over his tight shoulders, wished she could provide him more comfort than simply talking to him over the phone. “Distract me with something.”

“I still have a bruise on my chest,” Frank gently ran a hand over the slowly fading purplish mouth shaped mark on her left breast, “which you’ll be happy to hear.”

Bucky laughed and she was glad that he did, even if a blush covered her cheeks a few seconds later, “I’ll leave one on the other side next time I see you.”

“Only if you behave.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “and if I don’t?”

“Then maybe I’ll leave one on you.”

“Shit,” Bucky hissed at her and Frank giggled, “You can’t say those things to me right now—I’ll have to take a long walk in the cool air.”

Frank giggled, shaking her head as she felt her own body get a little heated. After a beat of comfortable silence passed she very quietly admitted, “I’ll be thinking about you tomorrow. More so than normal.”

“I appreciate it,” Bucky had to squeeze his eyes closed to keep the massive L word he didn’t think she was ready to hear yet out of his mouth, “I’ll be thinking of you too. Anymore games on the coast?”

“None this week,” Frank said after she took a few seconds to figure out what he was actually asking her, thinking back to her last mission with the Spitfire, “so you don’t have to worry.”

“I will anyway.”

“I know,” Frank gently wrapped the phone cable around her finger, “I haven’t heard when I’ll be coming back, but if I haven’t heard anything by Friday, I’ll see how much leave I have…”

“Should know more tomorrow,” Bucky said, “when I see how many make it back and what can or can’t be repaired.”

Frank felt her stomach drop, realization falling over her as she came to terms with what he was saying. “Bucky…”

“S’alright, doll,” he sighed, “I feel it too. We’ll figure it out, though, alright? I’ll have you back to me one way or another, preferably with all my boys and no pinch runners.”

“That sounds like a lovely game to me.”

“The best kind. My girl, my boys…a beautiful, clear sky and the sounds of a ball cracking off a bat.” Bucky tapped his pen against his desk, “I miss you every morning, doll.”

“I miss you too,” Frank felt happy and a little silly all at the same time, “even though it’s only been four days.”

“In this war, four days could be a lifetime.”

Frank hummed in agreement, her throat feeling just a little tighter at the thought and she worried her lower lip between her teeth, eyes trained down at the scuff across the side of her shoe, “I shouldn’t keep you any longer—if you’re playing tomorrow you need your sleep.”

“Doubt I’ll get any,” Bucky leaned back in his chair, back popping as he exhaled deeply, “but I should probably try. Be safe tomorrow, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,” Frank smiled. “You be safe tomorrow as well, and tell Buck I’m rooting for him and can’t wait to hear the score.”

“I’ll do that,” Bucky smiled warmly and Frank swore she could feel it over the phone. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to call tomorrow, I’ll have to play it by ear, but know I’ll be thinking of you.”

“I understand,” Frank nodded, “Don’t worry about me—even if I wanted to do something crazy like that again, I highly doubt Dorothy would let me.”

Bucky laughed, “Good—I’m glad she’s keeping an eye on you when I’m not available.”

Frank rolled her eyes playfully and she heard Bucky’s laughter continue, “Good night, Major. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Stella,” Bucky’s tone was nearly a pur and Frank wanted to melt right there, her toes scrunching up as her stomach flipped, “I’ll talk to you soon, baby.”

---

Frank wasn’t sure what she expected when she walked into one of the waiting rooms on the RAF Ratcliffe base the next morning, but three different women upside down against the wall was not it. “What’s going on?” Frank half laughed, half questioned as she approached Rose, who was in the middle of the group, feet and legs pressed firmly together and against the wall. 

Rose glanced up from where she was staring at the floor, grunting as she turned her head in a way so she could see Frank better, “Handstand competition. I think I’m winning.”

“You wish,” one of the British ATA pilots who went by Cecelia scoffed to Rose’s left, her midnight black hair spilling onto the floor in gentle ringlets, “I can go all day, Phillips.”

“I’ve heard the rumors,” Rose grunted back, hands shifting, “oh wait—or was that your mom?”

Several gasps echoed from the nearby chairs and couches where another group of pilots were spending their time before flights and ferries, doing things that didn’t involve being upside down for an extended period of time, like knitting and letter writing; a few around one of the tables shared a magazine Amelia’s family sent over a few months ago. “Play nicely, Rosie,” Faye Brightfield, a blonde pilot from South Africa, said. She wobbled slightly to Rose’s right, “Otherwise we may think you’re about to fall.”

“You wish…I could do this one handed.”

“Let’s not get cocky.” Frank tapped Rose’s fingers with the toe of her boot and Rose flicked her ankle in return, “How long have you been doing this?”

“Long enough I can barely feel my arms,” Cecelia winced as she tried to stretch her arms out. “Hopefully I don’t get called to fly anytime soon, because I’m not sure I could get them back to normal quickly.”

“Are you not flying today?” Rose’s elbows bent and her forearms shook, but she recovered well, torso and legs remaining unphased, “I thought for sure you’d be taking some of Boeing’s ferries.”

“Scrubbed about ten minutes ago.” Frank slipped her hands into the pockets of her uniform trousers, “they’re scrambling the assignments to see where we can be of more use today. So you all might get one soon.”

“I wish we could fly to the rest of Europe,” Faye grunted, her face starting to turn a few shades of red, “I spoke with Gavin earlier and he and Todd are flying to France today. I’m so jealous.”

“Were you under or over him?”

“Cow,” Faye hissed back at Rose as the red-head laughed softly, “and we were side-by-side, if you must know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cecelia’s body wobbled, her legs briefly coming off the wall before she attempted to resituate herself and Frank waited for her to fall forward, but she never did, “but you’re distracting me.”

Gavin Langley was one of the RAF Pilots who turned to the ATA after he went down during a training mission a few years ago. He suffered intense injuries to his left shoulder and arm that kept him from returning to duty, but had thankfully found a new place among like company where he could continue fighting in the war. He and Faye had struck up a bit of a romance in recent months. Frank had on good authority from Amelia that Gavin was planning on proposing to Faye the next time they had some leave.

“Haven’t ever gone sideways, eh, Cece?”

“You’re so crass,” Cecelia rolled her eyes, “I don’t discuss that in mixed company.”

Frank glanced over her shoulder at the huddles of women within hearing distance, but it didn’t appear any were paying them attention, “I don’t think they’re listening.”

“Regardless.” Cecelia’s voice wavered as her arms began to shake, “That’s not something I have any interest in discussing with all of you.”

“You wound me,” Rose sniffled dramatically. 

“I don’t know how Dorothy puts up with you,” Cecelia said, inhaling deeply through her nose before slowly letting it out through her mouth, “Frank, you should know better.”

“She has a new Beau,” Rose said before Frank could defend herself, “so she’s just as corrupt as we are now.”

“Oooh,” Faye’s head tilted to better see Frank, “do tell.”

“I think I’m going to side with Cecelia on this one,” Frank watched Cecelia wobble again, but this time, instead of being able to recover, Cecelia over corrected and the next thing they knew she was falling sideways away from Rose, feet landing on the ground before her body followed. 

“Fuck,” Cecelia didn’t have the strength to remain sitting, the dark haired pilot flopping over and onto her back as she extended her arms and legs out around her, “that really hurt—my arms are incredibly sore.”

“Great job, Cece!” A voice echoed from across the room and Cecelia lifted a hand in thanks, but didn’t move. 

“And then there were two…” Rose whispered dramatically to Faye and the blonde only laughed, “How long is Gavin going to be gone?”

“Dunno,” Faye shook her head, “hopefully not too long—as much as I’d love to fly to France, I do worry about him.”

“Understandable,” Rose said, “but he’s a great pilot—would’ve been a fighter pilot too if he hadn’t gotten hurt, I’ve heard.”

“Great pilots go down all the time,” Faye said after a few quiet seconds, “it’s irresponsible to believe otherwise.”

Faye’s words swirled around Frank’s stomach like a bad meal for the next ten minutes until Rose finally collapsed and Faye was declared victorious. And even after her friends regained strength and feeling in their arms and hands, Frank found herself quiet and distracted, all of her thoughts with the boys at Thorpe Abbotts. It was after noon, the boys would be halfway through, if not almost done with their mission by now and she hoped and prayed for Bucky’s sake that Gale Cleven was safe. 

---

Frank ended up not flying the rest of the day and by four in the afternoon, after the brass assigned the last of the ferries, the girls were released back into the wild. Walking with Faye and Rose down the paved sidewalk towards the dormitory, Frank listened as the other two girls debated about which headband might go better with the maroon dress Faye was planning to wear down to the pub tonight. Rose was adamant that it should not be matching, but Faye liked coordination and wasn’t so sure she agreed with Rose’s rogue style. Frank had just looked at both girls owl eyed when Faye asked for her opinion, eyeing the look Rose shot her when Frank saw Amelia step out of the administration building. 

At first, it didn’t appear anything was out of the ordinary, but as their tall, blonde friend grew closer Frank could see how tense Amelia was. Her shoulders were drawn back and her back was straight as a board, her posture nothing short of perfection as she crossed the distance towards them, heeled shoes clattering against the pathway. “Got something stuck up your ass, ‘Melia?” Rose called, Faye chuckling softly. Normally Amelia would have rolled her eyes and waved Rose off, or if they were alone she might have lifted a particular finger in response, but Amelia didn’t react, or so much as blink in Rose’s direction, and Frank found her heart rate increasing, an uncomfortable feeling spiking along the back of her neck at the silence. 

The three pilots all came to a stop as Commander Amelia Ryan approached, her eyes shifting to look around, taking note of who was nearby. “Everything ok?” Frank asked, the silence starting to unnerve her.

Amelia shook her head and that’s when Frank spotted the paper in her hands. Gripped so tightly she was pretty sure she could make out nail indentations on the back of it, Amelia scanned first Frank and then Rose before gently handing the paper to Faye. “I’m so sorry, Faye.”

Time seemed to stand still and Frank felt Rose grasp onto her forearm, all three women watching as the color drained from Faye’s face, her fingers shaking as she took the paper and read over the words. The strangled sob that escaped from Faye’s slightly parted lips would haunt Frank for months to come and thankfully Amelia reacted quickly enough to catch their friend before she completely collapsed onto the ground. Faye’s head lulled into Amelia’s shoulder, one hand gripping the paper so tightly that it crumpled in her closed fist, the other lifting shakily to press over her mouth. “No, no, no, no, no. Please no. No.”

Rose turned her head and Frank gently laced her fingers with Rose’s, squeezing her friend’s hand comfortingly. Faye sobbed heavily into Amelia’s neck and Frank looked around to see if they managed to catch anyone’s attention, but thankfully no one seemed to be around, and if they were, they were focused on other tasks. “He was right here—we were together this morning!”

“I know,” Amelia combed a hand through her hair and Faye only continued to grow more hysterical as realization set in, her entire body shaking, and when her hand opened to grab onto Amelia’s shoulder, the now wrinkled paper floated to the ground. 

Frank bent down to pick it up, glancing down at it to confirm that their suspicions were correct. Both Gavin and Todd went down on their return flight from France, no parachutes were seen. “Fuck.” Rose’s response was barely above a whisper and only for Frank’s ears, the pilot shaking her head back and forth as a tear slipped from her eyes. Frank slid an arm around Rose’s waist, squeezing it gently, knowing there was a good chance that Rose was reliving a similar situation that occurred back home when her brother’s telegram arrived and announced his death.

Amelia attempted to calm Faye enough to move her, but it seemed with each passing second Faye only grew progressively more and more upset, to the point that Frank released Rose to help Amelia escort Faye back towards the dormitories, two arms wrapped around her waist to help steady her shaky footing. Rose followed behind a little paler than normal and once they were inside the building and Feye was cuddled up practically in Amelia’s lap did she motion towards the hallway, letting Frank know she was going to step out. Frank gently unbuttoned her own jacket before letting it fall back onto her bed, watching as Amelia rocked and attempted to sooth Faye, fingers brushing hair away from her forehead and behind her ears. Frank just finished unbuttoning the cuffs around her wrists, rolling them up her forearms when Dorothy entered the room. The two friends exchanged glances over the sound of sobs and pleas escaping Faye’s mouth. Dorothy stepped towards Frank, bowing her head to keep their conversation as private as it could be in a shared room, “I’m giving Faye’s scheduled ferries to you tomorrow.”

Frank nodded silently, eyes lifting to look towards Dorothy. 

“You’ll ferry a plane to London and then catch a ride back to North Hampton. I need to get a Hurricane up to Scotland.” Dorothy rolled her shoulders back, her attention turning in Faye’s direction before her voice lowered even more, “I just got off the phone with Mantle, he’s grounding her for the rest of the week and we’ll reevaluate on Monday if she’s going back up. We can’t lose any more planes after the incident with Tony…”

Frank only nodded again, feeling a few tears start to sting the back of her eyes as she listened to Faye sob in Amelia’s arms, a woman she had only ever considered to be a pillar of strength had crumbled into millions of pieces right before her eyes. When Frank didn’t say anything after a few moments, Dorothy lifted a hand and ran it down Frank’s back gently, “Are you ok?”

Frank blinked back the tears, hand lifting to wipe away the one that managed to fall down her cheek, “Yeah—yeah, I’m alright. I…just think I need some space to breathe.”

Dorothy followed Frank out of the dormitory and into the evening air, the brunette inhaling deeply as she tried to keep the sickening feeling from continuing to bubble up in her stomach. “I know we’re in the middle of a war,” Frank found herself saying, “but it just feels very real lately.”

“We are at war.” Dorothy said slowly, eyes searching Frank’s face, “The planes we ferry and the men we taxi are going to fight and many of them won’t return. We’re not fighting directly, no, but we play a vital role in this war, Stella and we will see the results of it, both good and bad. After flying into Coventry and then Faye’s news…I do understand what you’re feeling, but now is the time to decide if you’re in this for the long haul, or if you’d rather step aside. No one will judge you for it if you do.”

Frank slipped her hands through her hair, nodding, “I just…didn’t expect Gavin to not return. I—”

“Gavin flew into France knowing there was a chance he might not return,” Dorothy cleared her throat softly, “it’s unfortunate and my heart breaks for Faye, but both of them knew what they signed up for when they joined the ATA and became romantically involved.”

Frank could read between the lines, she understood the true meaning to Dorothy’s words, just like Dorothy knew she wasn’t only upset for Faye. She couldn’t help but compare it to her own situation, her stomach souring further at the thought of Bucky not returning. She tried to keep her work with the ATA separate from her romance with Bucky, tried to keep the war separate from her romance with Bucky, but if anything became abundantly clear this afternoon, it was that all of that might be nearly impossible.

“Enjoy the time we have, Frank,” Dorothy said after several quiet moments went by, hand lifting to squeeze her friend’s shoulder, “with Rose and Amelia, with me, with John…and with anyone else you call a friend. None of us are guaranteed tomorrow, especially when we’re all fighting in a war.”

---

Frank slept terribly that night, using most of the evening and early morning hours thinking over Dorothy’s words, her heart and brain hurting simultaneously. Eventually she gave up on sleep just before sunrise and took the extra time she usually used to sleep to jog around the base, enjoying the cooler air, watching as the base slowly came alive. Planes were pulled from hangers, trucks and jeeps starting up as men and women slowly trickled in and out of buildings. The sun was well above the horizon by the time she made it back to her quarters, planning to take a quick shower and then over compensate her lack of sleep with several cups of hot coffee when Rose poked her head into the washroom, thumb pointing over her shoulder. 

“Frank—phone.”

Frank dropped her toiletries bag back onto her cot before she moved down the hall towards the communal phone. Her heart begging for it to be the one person she desperately needed to hear from. Even though he didn’t fly the mission, she needed to know everyone was ok. “Hello?”

“Good morning, doll.” Bucky’s voice was a little deeper, a little thicker than normal and she felt her stomach squeeze in fear. 

“Morning,” Frank breathed softly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah—yeah,” Bucky nodded but she couldn’t see, “yeah, just had a long night is all. We uh—lost ten runs yesterday.”

“Shit,” Frank’s eyes dropped down to her bare feet, “I’m so sorry. Did Buck…?”

“He had a good game,” Bucky said softly, “no—he made it home. DeMarco and Curt did as well, they each made it home too.”

“Good,” Frank exhaled, moving to lean heavily against the wall, the back of her head knocking against it when she tilted it back, “That’s…good.”

“Yeah.” She heard Bucky sigh heavily again and the Major leaned forward over his desk as he pressed the palm of his hand into his right eye, head starting to pound as the alcohol he consumed the night before and a few hours ago started to wear off—the spot Curt punched him starting to ache as well. “I uh…we have a new coach. I met with him ‘bout an hour ago and...I’ve been demoted.”

“What?” Frank’s eyebrows furrowed as she felt her heart rate pick up worriedly, “What—”

“Let me finish, doll,” Bucky pressed his fingers to his forehead, squeezing his eyes closed, his own stomach in knots about how she was going to take this, “I’m gonna be pitchin’ games now instead of managing. Coach thinks I’m better off playing than watching and…I think…I know that’s true. I belong up there, Stell. I can’t fly a desk.”

Frank knew he was right. She knew Bucky loved to fly and that he hated being stuck behind a desk, just like she knew he would have a hard time adjusting to his boys flying while he stayed behind, but she didn’t think he’d ever be demoted. Didn’t think that he’d be put in a position where he’d be flying with the others on a regular basis. 

So many thoughts ran through her mind, so many questions filling her brain, but all of it cleared when she pictured Faye sobbing in Amelia’s arms, the heartbroken cries echoing through her ears and Frank inhaled shakily, her own heart squeezing uncomfortably as she tried to process it all. “Ok. Ok…ok.”

“Kidd’s gonna be your new contact,” Bucky said after a pregnant pause filled the space between them, making sure she wasn’t going to say anything further before he continued, “nothing’s going to change there. He agreed to sign off on the request, so unless Dorothy denies it…"

Frank shook her head, swallowing thickly, “She won’t.”

“Good.” Bucky sighed, “good. I’m—talk to me, Stella. I can’t figure out what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know,” Frank lifted her eyes upwards, trying to keep the tears from falling as her vision clouded, “I…just need to process it, I think.”

“What can I do, doll?”

Frank shook her head, hand lifting to swipe along her water line, “Nothing, nothing. It’s ok and I understand. I just…had a rough night and I’ll be fine in a bit. I know you’ll be happier with the boys, and I know that’s what you want…it’s just a little raw right now, that’s all.”

“Stella…” Bucky’s grip tightened on the receiver, “What—”

“It’s ok, really,” Frank shook her head, pushing herself off the wall, “I have to get moving for a ferry, but I’ll call you later tonight if I don’t get back too late, ok?”

Bucky shook his head, “Please tell me—”

“Tonight, John,” Frank felt another stray tear fall, “I promise to call when I get back. I just need some air, ok?”

Bucky sighed heavily, nodding silently before he said, “Of course, doll. Fly safely, alright? I’ll talk to you tonight.”

Notes:

And thus begins ACT II! I hope everyone's enjoying it so far! Let me know what you think, I always enjoy reading your thoughts!

Chapter 21: XXI

Notes:

Trigger Warning:

Some heaviness ahead. Nothing nearly as major as last time, but Frank's got some not fun thoughts and memories about her ex-husband, and it could be triggering to some.

XXI.

Frank made it exactly twenty minutes in the air with the Hawker Hurricane before she broke down, her entire body convulsing as a sob bubbled up from her throat, the pilot doing everything she could to not let it affect her flying. It was a decent afternoon in England, the sky was fairly clear and it was perfect flying weather, but she didn’t enjoy it at all, instead spending all her energy trying to keep tears from rolling down her face, keeping one hand on the yoke as she frantically scrubbed at her cheeks, her sunglasses cloudy with tear stains, hand shaking as she clipped it to the front of her uniform. 

It was too much. Too much was moving through her mind, sending her down a dangerous spiral and Frank wanted nothing more than to find somewhere dark and quiet to curl up, wanted to spend however many hours she needed to work through all of these feelings alone. She hoped in the air she would get the space she needed, but the cockpit felt even more suffocating and she found her breathing starting to become strained, her chest caving in with each breath that she tried to force, her lungs burning after she seized control from them. She inhaled raggedly, her left hand lifting to press to her chest where it felt like a massive elephant was sitting, her vision starting to spot and cloud as the panic swirled all around her, wrapping itself around her brain, her lungs, and then her stomach. 

Frank gasped as another cry escaped her lips, more tears falling down her face and as the Hurricane dipped in the sky, both of her hands momentarily leaving the yoke, did she find enough of a clearing to bring the plane down. Muscle memory taking over as her brain failed her. It wasn’t often that she made emergency landings, the higher-ups didn’t love it when they did, and if anyone found out there would be several stacks of paperwork to fill out, but thankfully she spotted an empty enough field, the landing gear nearly slamming into the ground as Frank came to a stop. The propeller barely finished spinning by the time she scrambled out of the plane and onto the field, hands resting on her knees as she vomited into the grass.

All of her breakfast came up, the unpleasant taste of coffee burning her taste buds, her nose stinging and she staggered back against the plane, slowly lowering herself onto the ground, knees pulled to her chest. She had a hard time pinpointing what was upsetting her so much, each time she thought of Faye’s heartbreaking sobs, or Bucky’s exhausted tone, or even Dorothy’s firm words, she found herself tearing up more, the tears continuing to cascade down her cheeks, wetting the collar of her uniform until it was uncomfortable, bits of hair sticking to the wet spots.

She hadn’t cried this hard since her first night in England, when she realized she was so far from home without anyone knowing where she was. She had no one to write to, no one to receive letters from, and it was there, in the middle of the night as she tried to keep her sobs muffled into her pillow, that Dorothy had approached, one hand between her shoulders as she knelt down to rub her back until she fell off to sleep. They never spoke of it again, but the interaction meant the world to Frank and she wasn’t sure she would have made it if it hadn’t been for her. Part of her convinced she would have packed it up and hopped on a boat back to the United States if it hadn’t been for Dorothy.

Eventually the tears slowed and Frank was able to find enough of a dry sleeve to wipe her face and nose, her breathing beginning to slow, although she still felt very unsettled, her stomach in knots, her throat burning. She didn’t have any cigarettes with her, so she just let her hands shake on her knees as she stared out at the empty field, glad that there was no one around to witness her blubbering like a baby beside one of the RAF’s prized fighters. Her heart ached a little as her thoughts strayed to Faye and Gavin, the poor girl had cried herself to sleep last night while Amelia stroked her hair lovingly, their friend long gone by the time Frank woke up. When Rose quietly asked at breakfast, Amelia explained Faye was heading home for some extended leave, but they all knew it was permanent. Losing someone like that had to be gut wrenching, spending the morning together only to have them gone by the afternoon? It felt cruel, like the worst joke the universe could play on them and she felt shock for Faye, her own system having a hard time understanding that someone who was just there was now gone. It felt unreal, it felt wrong, and Frank felt more tears fill her eyes as she put herself in Faye’s shoes. 

She was so angry with herself. Angry that the first thought she had after Faye’s news was that she didn’t have to worry about something like this. Bucky didn’t fly, he spent most of his time at a desk or in training missions over the ocean and while there was always a chance equipment could malfunction or one of the pilots could have a fatal error, he was as safe as one could be in a war. He wasn’t seeing combat regularly and he was safe. Those thoughts were the only thing keeping her together the night before, knowing that this wouldn’t happen to her, couldn’t happen to her, and therefore she wouldn’t have to watch Amelia walk towards her with that blank face, telegram in hand as her entire world shattered around her. 

“Fuck!”

Frank pressed her forehead to her knees, that same feeling she had when she cheated on her husband seeping into her bones, thoughts of being a terrible person echoing through her head. The same thoughts she had when she woke up alone in an empty bed, skin bare and heart broken. The same thoughts that were shouted back at her hours later after she made her way back home. 

She knew she handled this morning’s conversation poorly. She knew, somewhere deep down, that talking it through with him was what she should have done. That she shouldn’t have shut down on him, that she shouldn’t have just let him go. She didn’t ask any questions, didn’t ask what happened, all she did was run.

It was all she ever did.

Her brain told her it was all she would ever do. 

It was hard in that moment to keep herself in the present, her mind wanting to dive back into the past, her own voice meshing with that of her ex-husband’s. His deep, accented voice distorted with her own as terrible thoughts and names filled her head, her heart shattering and her stomach rolling each time she let him call her something awful. Each time she called herself something awful. 

It was hard to know where her voice stopped and where his began, too many years of his voice disguising her own made it difficult to pull apart, and so Frank sat there in the grass alone, her head starting to hurt from how upset she was getting, all of the thoughts and feelings she had about this relationship with Bucky starting to overwhelm her. She’d kept them at bay long enough, convincing herself that they were just spending time together, that they were just sleeping together, just having fun, but her heart knew it was a lie. 

Her heart always knew. Even if she refused to believe it.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed before she was able to peel herself off the ground, hand resting flat against the body of the Hurricane as she steadied herself, inhaling the fresh country air, letting it fill her lungs before she wiped her sunglasses off and climbed into the plane. She spent another several minutes inside the plane, debating with herself on what she wanted to do and how she wanted to handle this. She had at least another hour in the air before she landed in Scotland, and she would need to make a decision before she got on the train. However, being the skilled pilot that she was, Frank went through her take off procedures like it was in her blood, and when she was finally in the air was she able to push all of the thoughts away, instead focusing on her dials and the wind as it blew her gently up and down. 

She’d figure it out when she got there. 

---

Major Gale Cleven glanced over his shoulder at his best friend, taking in the stormy look across Bucky’s face as he sat hunched over one of the desks, eyes trained down on the stack of paper, pen moving as he scratched words onto the top sheet. Upon first glance, it might seem that John Egan was there in the room with him, his thoughts consumed by the words he was writing to parents who just lost their child, wives who just lost their husbands, but he knew the man well enough to know that he was a million miles away. 

Or at least however many miles away Ratcliffe was from Thorpe Abbotts. 

Buck glanced down at his watch, eyeing the time and mentally calculating how much time he had before he placed his own pen down and pushed himself to his feet. Bucky glanced over, eyes flickering across him before looking down at his paper and Buck wandered around the desk to lean against the one in front of Bucky’s, hands resting on the desk on either side of his thighs.

“How’s it going?”

“Fine.” Bucky’s response was short and clipped, not much emotion in the single word.

“What number are you on?”

Bucky leaned back at that, hand lifting to push aside the letters he had folded into envelopes, his own spit sealing them, “Four.”

Buck nodded, the thirty he already wrote sitting on the desk sealed and ready for the post tomorrow, knowing that his friend wasn't going to get through many, if any, of his own letters. “What’re you thinking?”

Bucky glanced up again, frown falling across his face, “What?”

Buck gave him a knowing look, foot bumping the front of the desk, the amber liquid in the glass that sat not too far from Bucky’s left hand sloshing at the disturbance.  “What are you thinking about?” He asked again, arms folding across his chest. 

“The letters,”  Bucky dropped the ink pen, moving to drag his hands down his face after catching the flat look Buck gave him. “I think I’m having a fight with Stella.” 

Buck didn’t comment on Bucky referring to Frank by her given name, his head tilting as he watched Bucky reach for the glass, taking a lengthy sip from it before placing it back down, “You think? Or you know?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know.”  Bucky ran his hand along his jaw, his evening stumble scratching the palm of his hand as he exhaled longingly, eyes unfocusing, “I knew she’d be worried about me goin’ up now, but I thought we talked about this. She just…completely shut down on me, Buck. I don’t know what to make of it…she’s up in the air or somewhere and we can’t talk about this? We’ve talked about everything else, I haven’t ever reacted poorly to anything we’ve discussed…why wouldn’t she want to discuss this?” 

Buck only hummed, his right hand moving to drag the sleeve of his uniform jacket up his arm to glance down at the time again before he said, “How’d you leave it?” 

“She said she would call me when she got back for the night,” Bucky rubbed a finger between his eyebrows, “I want to believe that she’s going to call. But…can she be mad about this? She knows where we are and what I do…” 

“Doesn’t mean it’s not a surprise,” Bucky said, “maybe you caught her off guard. Off day. Doesn’t mean she’s changed her mind.” 

“I know she’s timid,” Bucky sighed, “but I just got to where I felt like she was opening up, and now I’m worried she’ll close off again.” Bucky shook his head, scooting up to rest his elbows on the desk, burying his face in the palms of his hands as his fingers tugged on the roots of his hair, “I don’t know what to do. If she won’t talk to me…I can’t even focus on these letters because my head’s completely fucked.”

“Maybe she needs some time,” Buck suggested, “Marge was quiet for a while after I got our orders, just because they know it’s comin’ doesn’t mean it’s easy when it happens.” 

“Yeah…maybe.” Bucky leaned back in his chair, shaking his head, “What do I say?”

Buck shrugged, mind drifting to when he told Marge that he was leaving for England. His beautiful girl went completely still, those slightly tinted lips he only dreamed about kissing now parted and he sat with her there in her parents’ family room as she processed, her hands clasped together. It hadn’t taken too long before the first tear fell and Buck remembered getting up and out of her father’s arm chair quickly, moving to sit beside her on the couch to comfort her better, letting her press into his side, her face moving into the space his neck and shoulder met as she cried softly. His arm slipped around her, thumb grazing the soft skin of her elbow and eventually, after the initial shock wore off, she pressed a kiss that would’ve been considered a little too suggestive, had anyone seen, to his mouth. Buck blinked away the memory, shifting his position against the desk before he said, “Maybe you let her make the first move.”

Bucky shook his head, eyes drifting past him to glance around the room, “Is it bad if I say I don’t think I can wait that long?”

“The girl’s crazy about you, John.” Buck shook his head, “We all see it—the way you two orbit around one another is so damn obvious I’m surprised you haven’t been reassigned to a different crew by now.” Bucky snorted and Buck laughed, “I’m serious—the whole damn group knows you’re on a leash. Blakley’s been planning a pub night for days now that you’re out of the running.”

Bucky only rolled his eyes, “Yeah—good luck to ‘im. He’s gonna need it.”

“You’re not just imagining things,” Buck said after a few moments of silence passed, “you’re not makin’ something out to be what it isn’t. Trust me. The girl’s in love with you and you did the right thing telling her.” Buck didn’t feel the need to explain that the entire base had a betting pool going on for these two, the result of Curt and Brady having too much to drink a few nights ago. Curt had Bucky proposing within six months whereas Brady gave him another two weeks.

Bucky inhaled deeply, nodding slightly as he pressed his index finger down onto the surface of the desk, “I wrote mom about her.”

Buck tried to search through his memories of John Egan, looking for a time when he had seen his friend so wrapped up in a girl that he felt the need to let his parents know, but he found none. To his knowledge, Bucky hadn’t ever written home about a girl. “What’d you say?”

“Told her I met someone,” Bucky’s eyes were firmly on his fingernail as he spoke, “that she’s a pilot too and that I think about her all the time. That I couldn’t promise to not bring home a wife at the end of all this and that I wanted her to be the first to know in case it happens.”

Bucky dropping the ‘w’ word had Buck pausing for several long seconds, vaguely aware of his watch ticking on as he said, “That’s real nice, John. I’m sure she’ll be very excited.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Bucky shook his head, “she’s gonna have a million questions and I’ll get a letter from my sisters soon, no doubt. Probably one from my Aunt too, and I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to tell them I let her get away.”

“Then don’t.” Bucky’s eyes snapped over to his best friend and Buck looked directly into his eyes, “Don’t let her get away. If you want her, and if you’re in love with her, don’t let her get away. Don’t let her get stuck in her head. Have a conversation with her and don’t let it end until you’ve worked it out.”

Bucky nodded, eyes slowly shifting down to look at his shoes, “I just don’t want to fuck everything up with her. I don’t want to push her, I promised myself at the very beginning that I’d let her lead and I’d follow and I don’t want to come across too strong. Scaring her is…the absolute last thing I want to do, Buck. I’m sick to my stomach over this.”

“So that’s why Curt got your roll.” Buck adjusted his jacket again, shifting so he wasn’t leaning against the desk, taking another peak at his watch, “It’ll all work out, John. I promise. These things have a way of doing so, trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Bucky shook his head, moving to rest his chin in the palm of his hand as he looked back towards the stack of letters while Buck wandered back to the desk he’d been sitting at, reaching for his hat, “I gotta get these done before she calls or—”

Before Bucky was able to finish his sentence the door opened and Buck glanced up to see Stella Frank standing there, a very tight smile across her face. They exchanged a look and Buck nodded back to her, reaching for the stack of letters, whistling softly while he waved them in the air, “I got ‘em done already.”

Bucky didn’t have time to question his friend or figure out how Buck had managed to write all thirty of the letters without him noticing, watching with wide eyes as Buck passed Frank, hand lifting to squeeze her shoulder, “Train ride all right?”

“Not bad,” Frank said, “I had a compartment all to myself, so not too busy.”

“Sounds like a win to me,” Buck tapped her arm with the letters before shooting Bucky a pointed look over her shoulder, “you two have a good night.”

The door punctuated his sentence, leaving the couple alone in the quiet room. Bucky stared long and hard at her, as if he wasn’t sure she was really there and Frank slowly moved around the desks in his direction, “The bastard knew you were coming.”

“I called him when I got to Scotland,” Frank admitted a little sheepishly as she grew closer, “I figured by then he’d know what was going on and I wanted to test the waters to see if you even wanted to talk to me. The ATA has an unofficial position where they don’t ask questions about when we return, so long as we’re done with ferries for the evening and back in time for our tasks the following day. As long as I’m back by late morning—”

Frank didn’t have any time to recover as Bucky pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between them, his hand sliding around her waist to pull her into him, his lips just barely ghosting across her own, “Tell me you’re not ending this.”

Frank shook her head no, eyes fluttering closed as he brushed his lips across hers again, the kiss lighter than the last, but with much more meaning, his mustache tickling her upper lip, “No—no. Buck said you weren’t angry…but if you want to end this then—”

“No,” Bucky whispered against her mouth, hand lifting to cup the side of her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone lightly, “that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“I’m sorry about this morning.” Frank whispered, her voice dropping so low Bucky had to strain to hear it, “I—a lot of shit happened yesterday and your news sent me over the edge and I—I didn’t mean to push you away, I just couldn’t breath and—”

“Easy,” Bucky nuzzled her gently, his lips just barely touching hers as he spoke, “we can talk about it all, there’s no rush.” Frank inhaled deeply, her chest pressing to his when she did and he brushed his thumb along her lower lip, Bucky’s eyes zeroing in on the way it wobbled traitorously, his eyes immediately finding hers to see unshed tears sparkling in them, “Hey, hey, hey,” Bucky shook his head no, “don’t cry, doll. It’s alright, we’re alright.”  

Frank shook her head, blinking hard to let the first few tears fall down her cheeks in what she was sure had to be a familiar path by now, her nose sniffling as she tried to force the others back, “I didn’t let you explain this morning and I didn’t offer any explanation and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any problems and I’m so dumb for not—”

Bucky shook his head no, both hands lifting to cup her face as he stared down at her, eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t ever want to hear that again. The last thing you are is dumb.”

Frank sniffled, more tears falling, and Bucky gently pulled her into his arms, letting her press her forehead to his chest as the rest fell, a sob escaping her body as he wrapped her in a tight embrace. He shushed her softly, hand smoothing down the back of her hair as she cried and he wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually Frank calmed down enough that she wasn’t actively sobbing and instead just listened to his heartbeat as he swayed them back and forth to the music in his own head as he hummed quietly.

“What song is that?” Frank asked, arms snaking around his waist to hug him back. 

Her heart skipped a beat when he pressed his lips to the top of her head and whispered, “Blue Skies.” Frank made an affirmative noise and cuddled closer, feeling just a little more relaxed for the first time since Amelia handed Faye that telegram. “Is it raining outside?” 

Frank shook her head no, “Clear night, a little breezy.”

Bucky kept one arm wrapped around her, reaching across the desk for his jacket before he nodded to the door, “C’mon—let’s go for a walk.”

Frank followed him to the door, taking comfort in the way his massive hand wrapped around hers as he led her through the doorway and into the evening air, the stars twinkling while they walked. She didn’t know where they were going, but Bucky appeared to have a direction and destination in mind, his hand holding hers so tightly as he led her onto the airfield. Frank watched as one of the B-17s came into view, eyes taking in the massive plane. Bucky released her hand once they arrived before hauling himself up and onto the wing, stretching his arms down to grasp her hands as she climbed up after him. 

She didn’t say anything as he moved across the wing, sliding down into a seated position a moment later, back resting against the body of the Fortress, long legs bent at the knees as he rested his elbows on top of them. He motioned her over with a tilt of his head and Frank followed his request, easily falling into place beside him, her back resting against the plane, knees pulled up almost to her chest. His arm crossed in front of her, his left hand running along her left knee and shin, head turning to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Tell me what happened yesterday.”

It was a quiet night, not much sound echoing around the airfield. From her spot she could see lights scattered around the base, and even further in the distance she was pretty sure she could make out a farmhouse lit up for the evening, livestock grazing in nearby pastures. The wind blew but it wasn’t too chilling, and up above soft looking wisps floated easily in the sky, the stars playing peek-a-boo around the clouds. Even the moon was almost full and Frank briefly tried to figure out if it was waxing or waning, but she couldn’t remember which was which. 

She wondered what Faye was doing. If she was on a boat somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, or if she managed to find a seat on a plane and was already almost back home. Her heart squeezed as she thought of Faye collapsing into her mother and sister’s arms, her entire body hurting as she thought about what Faye must be feeling, knowing she left behind a future in England. Frank inhaled a ragged breath when she felt Bucky’s long fingers tuck behind her knee, his head tilting to see her face better. 

“One of the girls…” Frank clenched her jaw, already feeling her throat tighten as she attempted to get the words out. She inhaled before continuing, “that I came over with…that Rose and I started with…she uh…” Frank squeezed her eyes closed and Bucky rubbed his thumb along her knee, “was pretty serious with another pilot based at Ratcliffe. He went down yesterday on his way back from France. Rose and I were with her when she…found out.” Bucky inhaled deeply as Frank felt a few tears fall, her eyes turned downward to stare at his hand as he continued to stroke her knee soothingly. “She just…collapsed into Amelia’s arms. I’ve never seen anything like it. He was just on the base earlier that morning, we were just joking around about them a few hours earlier and then all of a sudden he was gone. He was alive one second and dead the next.” 

Bucky squeezed her knee, but before he was able to say anything she sniffled and said, “I know that’s something you’ve already experienced. But I haven’t, at least not so closely and to someone I know well, and I feel like like absolute scum, because my first thought after the initial shock was that I didn’t have to worry about you like that and it’s the only way I was able to get through last night, because Faye cried all night long and even Rose was distraught and everyone was thinking of the people in their lives and—and Dorothy told me that I needed to figure out if I can handle this and I don’t think I can—I can’t—I can’t handle this. I can’t handle losing everyone and it’s you I worry about most, of course I worry about you, but I also worry about Rose because she’s chaotic in the sky sometimes and what if I lose Amelia or Dorothy? And I wouldn’t be as strong as Faye, I couldn’t handle it. I can’t handle this. I can’t—I can’t—”

Bucky lifted his hand from her knee before sliding it around her quivering body, pulling her into his arm and into his warmth, his lips pressing to her temple as she reached out for him, her hand clutching at his jacket as she sobbed softly. “You’re alright,” he whispered softly against her hairline, lips pressed there gently, “breathe with me.” Frank did as she was told, slowly calming down until her sobs weren’t echoing around the airplane. “There we go.” Bucky squeezed her body, fingers spread out along her waist, “You’re so much stronger than you know, doll. What you’ve already been through isn’t anything to sneeze at. You left a toxic marriage, you left your family behind, you’ve started your life over…twice. You got on the boat and you came over here alone to fly planes you hadn’t ever flown before in an area you’ve never even seen before. You’ve done so many things, met so many people, you put up with me…you can do anything, Stella.”

Frank shook her head no and he kissed her forehead, “You’re strong, Stell. So strong. And I hope that none of the things you mentioned happen, I’d give anything in the world for none of them to happen, but you know I can’t promise that. Not when we’re at war. I can promise to do my best, like we talked about. Just as I’m sure Rose, Amelia, and Dorothy can promise to do the same, but you will be ok. You can handle this. You were born to do this, I see it every time you take off down the runway, every time you bring the planes down for a landing. The way your eyes light up, if anyone’s meant to do this, angel, it’s you." Frank pressed her face into his chest and he kissed the top of her head, hand lifting to push aside some of the hair that drifted across his mouth, “I’m sorry about Faye. I wish I had known…your reaction makes a hell of a lot more sense now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t—”

Bucky made a noise from the back of his throat, hand lifting to press his finger to her lips, “Not what I meant. No. You’re not apologizing for that.”

“But—”

“Shhh.” He gently pulled her body further into him, her legs sliding over his own as she rested between his knees, her right ear pressing to his chest as he cuddled her close, “I’m sorry, angel. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what I’d do,” Frank whispered after several long seconds went by, her fingers lifting to run along the zipper of his jacket. “if Dorothy handed me a telegram letting me know you were gone…and that scares me, John. It really scares me.”

“You’d pick yourself back up like you’ve done before,” his own throat tightened and he leaned his head against hers, eyes closing as he enjoyed having her so close, “and you’d find some other loud mouthed, annoying guy to spend the rest of your life with.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” he shook his head. “I’m serious, Stella. You’re twenty-four, you’re going to live your life, you hear me? Because if I find out that the girl I’m crazy about wasted her life away mourning me for the next seventy years, I’m going to haunt you.”

Frank let out a watery laugh, burying her face into his jacket as he chuckled, “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you get what I’m saying.” he sighed heavily, neck extending as he looked up at the stars, a silent prayer running through his head, “We’re gonna get through this, Stell. I don’t know how, and I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’ll do everything I can to get us both through this.”    

“I want the war to be over,” Frank said after she processed Bucky’s words, her hand sliding around his stomach to hug him closer, “I don’t want anymore bombings…I don’t want anymore charred dolls in a pile of rubble. I can’t stop picturing it and wondering where the baby is that loved it…if they made it out and if they’re ok…”

Bucky held her as she cried again, his fingers twirling around the ends of her hair. He traced the stars with his eyes, the fingers that stroked her leg gently alternated between drawing circles along her shin and knee, the pad of his finger gliding over the mole she had just to the side of her knee cap. He couldn’t promise an end to the war, so he stayed quiet, simply giving her what comfort she needed, lips pressing to her hairline every so often. 

Frank eventually calmed down, her hand moving to slide inside of his jacket after she wiped her face, arm tucked in between the heavy material and his chest and he squeezed her closer. He swallowed thickly, dropping his head to kiss her forehead as her eyes fluttered closed, “I’m not gonna say it,” he whispered to her, Frank’s fingers flexing as she held onto his uniformed jacket,  “because I know you’re not ready. But know that I’m ready when you are.”

Frank nodded after several long seconds of thinking, “Thank you for being patient.”

“Not the word most people would use to describe me,” Bucky attempted to bring the conversation and mood back into a lighter atmosphere, “but I’d wait for you forever, angel.”

Frank didn’t mind when he called her ‘doll’ or ‘baby,’ and when he moaned it into her ear when they were intimate she wouldn’t deny that it did things to her, but there was something about the way ‘angel’ fell from his lips that had her stomach jumping and heart twirling, her head nuzzling further under his chin as she felt the warmth of his body seep into hers. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

More time passed and Frank let the sound of Bucky’s heart beat, mixed with the feel of the wind and the warmth of him and his jacket lull her into a more relaxed state, her legs stretching before she shifted into a more comfortable position, enjoying this time up against him. "You have a new CO?" She asked softly, "What happened there?"

"Huglin got reassigned," Bucky exhaled, "Colonel Harding is my new CO. I think I can work with him better—he seems to not hate my guts as much as Huglin did."

"But he demoted you."

"Mhmm," Bucky stretched his neck out, rolling his shoulders back, "you're sleeping with the CO of the 418th now."

Frank thumbed his stomach with her index finger and he grunted, hand moving to rest over hers, lacing their fingers together. She shifted to look at his face, eyebrows lifting, "How do you feel about that?"

"Relieved?" Bucky shrugged, "Upset that I didn't think it would upset you this badly. I don't want to do anything to jeopardize us, Frank."

"I understand," Frank said, "I know that it's part of your job, it was just...a lot back to back."

"I get it." He squeezed her before bringing it up to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly, "We'll work out a system on days I fly, alright? I don't want you worrying all day and the next. We'll figure it out, might have to work out the kinks the first few times, but we'll figure something out."

Frank appreciated his proactiveness, and so she found herself nestling further into his chest and arm, his hand dropping hers back down to his chest. The couple listened to the sounds of the evening, enjoying the air and each other's company before Frank glanced off to the side, looking towards the front of the plane. “This plane is called Muggs?”

“Mhmm.” Bucky nuzzled his nose along her hairline, “S’my plane.”

“Yours?”

He nodded again and Frank squeezed him tighter, her stomach a little uneasy at sitting on the wing of the plane he would be regularly flying now. “All mine. Maybe I’ll get the guys to paint a girl with dark wavy hair…”

“You will not.” Frank tapped his stomach and he chuckled, “I can’t believe you all even do that.”

“Anything to get us through this,” Bucky said, “speaking of…you’re gonna need to give me a picture I can pin up on my windshield. Need to see this beautiful face when I fly across the channel.”

Frank nodded, eyes closing as Bucky cupped her face, her lips turning to press a soft kiss to the center of his hand. However, Bucky clearly wasn’t interested in stopping there, because he tilted her chin up a few seconds later to press a proper kiss to her lips. 

They kissed slowly and softly all at the same time, noses brushing against one another, and it wasn’t until Bucky deepened it that Frank pushed herself up straight, wanting to kiss him thoroughly in return. Her arms looped around his neck as one of his hands curved around her waist, the other cupping her jaw to angle her head. Bucky was an excellent kisser and Frank let him control it, one of her hands moving from his neck to press to his chest, just over the place his heart would be. 

They kissed for several long minutes, alternating between light, teasing touches when his lips would just barely brush across hers, and full on passionate kisses, his tongue stroking hers in a way that made her toes curl, her body urging her to get as close as she could to him. Bucky’s heated kiss turned sweet when he pulled away to press his lips to her forehead, both of them gulping in air. “Are you staying here tonight?” Bucky asked once his breathing returned to normal. 

“There’s a late train,” Frank said, small yawn escaping her, “I can take that if you need to—”

“Mmhm.” Bucky shook his head, “Want you to stay.”

“I have to catch the first train back tomorrow to make it in time,” Frank warned, “but waking up with you sounds absolutely worth it.”

“Agreed.” Bucky squeezed her body tightly before kissing her ear, “C’mon, angel—let’s go figure out where you’re staying the night. If you’re quiet, maybe I can sneak you into my hut.”

“I don’t think so,” was Frank’s only response, flat look across her face as Bucky laughed loudly. They separated as his laughter died down, Frank scooting to the edge of the wing, watching Bucky hop off like he'd done this before. He turned to hold his arms out for her next, Frank easily sliding into them before they lost themselves in a series of lingering kisses, her arms moving around his neck as he wrapped his around her, their only audience the stars and the planes, both of them content to be back together and in each others arms. 

Notes:

I couldn't keep them on the rocks for too long! Hahahaha. I can't wait to read what you think!! I'm so excited for next chapter, especially the closer we get to the pub scene. I think we should get Rose into Thorpe Abbotts next chapter... ;)

Thank you all for reading, it means so much, truly.

 

(You should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here! You can also read Bucky’s letter to his mother!)

Chapter 22: XXII

XXII.

Frank leaned against the wall outside of one of the administration buildings, eyes turned up towards the sky as she squinted against the morning sun, waiting for Dorothy’s morning meeting to commence. It normally ended by eight, which was when the first of their assignments were given out, so she hoped to catch Dorothy before she moved on to breakfast in the Officers’ Mess. She tapped her foot against the sidewalk, glancing over her shoulder every so often as she hoped and prayed that this would not be the morning Rose decided to walk the long way to the mess. The last thing she needed was the ginger haired pilot ruining her plan. 

Luck seemed to be on her side as the door opened and out stepped Dorothy Skylar, her commanding officer hesitating slightly at seeing Frank not only up, showered, and dressed this early, but waiting on her. Dorothy could count on a single finger, including this time, when Frank had been waiting on her. “Yes…?” Dorothy adjusted her blazer as the door swung closed behind her, eyeing her friend in concern, “You’re not pregnant are you?”

Frank scoffed with a roll of her eyes, “I’m glad that’s the first place your mind went.”

“You’ve spent quite a few nights in East Anglia,” Dorothy wiggled her eyebrows as the girls started to walk down the pathway together. “Don’t act like it’s that far out of the realm of possibility. Plus with you refusing the diaphragm fitting when Rose and Amelia went…”

“Anyway.” Frank shook her head and Dorothy snorted at Frank’s refusal to comment, “Is Rose on the schedule today?” 

Dorothy lifted the clipboard she had under one arm, glancing over the roster of pilots she was in charge of, scanning the list for Rose’s name before she shook her head, “No—Rose has every other Thursday off.”

“Am I scheduled today?”

Dorothy paused mid-step, glancing sideways at Frank as she tried to work out where her Captain was going with this line of questioning. Frank already knew she was flying today. Even with Bucky no longer the Air Exec at Thorpe Abbotts, he was still privy to the ferry schedules…or he was busy bribing and/or annoying Jack Kidd enough to get that information. Regardless, Frank had known for about three days now that she would be bringing in a new B-17 to the boys this week. 

“Yes,” Dorothy let the papers fall back into place, “you’re flying to Thorpe Abbotts today…which I’m sure comes as a complete surprise to you.”

Frank couldn’t help but laugh at that, hurrying to follow after Dorothy, who started walking again. “What would I have to do to persuade you into letting Rose fly with me today?”

Dorothy’s head tilted as she sighed up to the heavens, her shoulders rolling back slightly before looking back at Frank, “Why?”

“Well, she’s going to retest for the Class Five’s in a month or so and I think being my co-pilot would be beneficial to her…get some hands-on time in the Fortress…”

“Uh-huh.” Dorothy’s face remained flat, eyebrow arching, “and…?”

“And she’s been pretty down since Faye left. She didn’t come out with us the night before last, she hasn’t gone out with anyone, and she’s barely done anything aside from fly and sleep.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.” Dorothy nudged Frank’s arm with her clipboard and the brunette rolled her eyes, “Have you spoken with Rose?”

Frank sighed, “No, but it’s not hard to tell she’s struggling. I know she got a letter from her dad a few days ago, and I think that combined with Faye…she’s just not…doing well.” 

Dorothy hummed, glancing over at Frank again, knowing her friend also hadn’t been doing the best in recent days. Everyone had taken Gavin’s news fairly hard, but then after Faye left just as suddenly, it became even more real, especially in their little ferry pool. “What are you suggesting, if I say yes?”

“I have some leave,” Frank started, “and I know Rose does as well. Is it too late notice if I request it for tomorrow for us both?”

“How do you know she’ll agree to that?”

“I don’t,” Frank lifted a shoulder, hands sliding into the pockets of her trousers as Dorothy stopped to face her friend, “but I know that you’d do the same for me. That you’d make me, and I don’t want to lose a friend.”

Dorothy exhaled slowly, her eyes drifting to the left side, her biggest giveaway that she was thinking deeply. Frank remained silent and still, gnawing gently on her lip as she waited for an answer, ideas already filling her head on what her next steps were if Dorothy said yes. “Alright,” Dorothy tapped the back of the clipboard with her index finger, “I…take your point. Rose is clearly struggling, and I need her in a better headspace before she goes back into the air.” When Frank’s face lit up, Dorothy quickly continued,  “If she will agree, she’s free to ferry the Fortress with you. I’ll need to write it up differently. But…I think I can make it happen.”

“This is why you get paid the big bucks,” Frank reached out to squeeze Dorothy’s shoulders, her Commanding Officer only rolling her eyes in response, “thank you. Really.”

“We get paid nearly the same,” Dorothy scoffed as Frank released her after she swatted her hands away. “Just make sure she has fun, alright? I don’t want to lose any more girls either.”

Frank saluted her friend and Dorothy only groaned, “Yes, sir!”

“I knew you were going to do that,” Dorothy swatted Frank with the clipboard, the brunette laughing as she half walked, half jogged a few steps away. “Just make sure she doesn’t fall in love, yeah? I can’t afford two of you down bad for men in East Anglia.”

“Maybe her soulmate is there,” Frank rested her hands on her cheeks in an exaggerated way, gasping, “just waiting for her to waltz in and dance with him before they go and make a dozen little ginger haired babies?”

Frank could feel Dorothy’s eye roll from where she stood several steps away, “I think I just vomited into my mouth.”

She laughed before shaking her head, “Rose is looking for a good time, Dot. Not a long time. She’s not going to catch feelings. Trust me.”

“Uh-huh.” Dorothy shook her head, “I’ve heard that one before.”

Frank left Dorothy at the Officers’ Mess, taking the turn back towards the dormitories to find Rose before she either disappeared or found something to distract herself with. She hurried down the hall once she was inside the building, having to skirt around a group of girls to avoid running into them as she rounded the corner. Rose was sitting cross legged on her bed, hair pinned up in her dressing gown as she looked through the magazine Amelia got from her family a few weeks ago. “Better get dressed,” Frank’s boots echoed in the almost empty room as she approached and Rose barely glanced her way, “I’ve got an assignment for you.”

“I’m not flying today.” Rose popped her gum between her molars, shaking her head slightly, “Find someone else.”

“It’s a really good assignment.”

Rose’s only response was a turn of the page.

Frank flopped down onto the end of the cot, Rose sighing as she jostled her intentionally in the process, “Do you want to know what it is?”

“No.”

Frank tapped the edge of the magazine and Rose threw her foot out in an attempt to knock her over, successfully pushing Frank further away as she pivoted her body to keep her from taking it, “Fuck off. I’m busy and not in the mood. Don’t you have somewhere to be? You’re not off today.”

“Yes.” Frank adjusted her position to keep from falling off the bed, “I have an assignment for us both, so I came to get you up and dressed.”

Rose blew a small bubble, about the size of a quarter in response, shaking her head, “I don’t want to fly today. I just want to wander down to the pub and drink until Howard looks like Clark Gable.”

Frank paused at that, thinking over one of the villagers who frequented the pub on the weekdays. “Howard looks nothing like Clark Gable…”

“That’s the point.” Rose closed the magazine dramatically, the pages swishing together as she motioned for Frank to move, “So if you don’t mind…?”

“Ok, ok,” Frank held her hands up as she stood from the bed, taking a few small steps away, “I just thought you’d want to fly a Fortress. That’s all.”

Frank made it exactly four steps. “What do you mean?” A turn of her head told her Rose was staring directly at her now, one artfully sculpted eyebrow raised.

“I thought you weren’t interested.”

Rose sighed heavily, tossing the magazine off to the side, “Stop fucking around and just tell me already. I’m not in the mood.” 

“Or…” Frank reached down to grab the bag she packed the night before, the one with the vintage silk, soft pink number stashed away at the bottom. “You could get ready and meet me on the tarmac.”

“Frank,” Rose called after her friend as Frank reached for her hat, tucking it under her arm before moving towards the door. “This had better not be a joke or I’ll pinch you.”

Frank laughed at that, shaking her head, “I’ll be waiting by the big boy outside!” Rose sighed in annoyance as she lifted herself out of bed, ready to change into her uniform when Frank’s head popped back into the room, “Oh—and you may want to pack a bag. Pick out something nice to wear later tonight, too.”

“Tonight?” Rose’s voice echoed down the hall as Frank continued walking down to the exterior doors, “What’s happening tonight?”

Frank called back down the hall, laughter hovering at the end of her sentence, “I guess you’ll find out soon enough!”

---

By the time Frank filed her flight path and went through all of the necessary hoops Dorothy was making her jump through to have this count as actual flight time for Rose, the sun was higher in the sky. With her bag in one hand and her helmet in the other, Frank spotted Rose standing near the B-17 they would be taking to Thorpe Abbotts. Rose's arms were folded across her chest and she appeared to be talking to someone Frank hadn’t seen before, a slight frown across her friend’s face. “...I’ve never been this close to a Flying Fortress before.”

Frank looked up at the plane beside her, taking in the sight of the B-17, trying to remember how she felt the first time she saw one. She remembered the first time she flew one. Remembered how she almost passed out upon seeing all of the buttons and switches inside. How she took off with hands that shook so badly Lee commented on it from the seat beside hers. He asked her if she was nervous and when she finally admitted that she was, he reached over and squeezed her shoulder. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, most of her attention was focused on not crashing it into the water they were flying towards, but she could certainly feel it now. The way he stroked the side of her neck, thumb brushing hair away from her ear as it lingered far too long to be casual. She shuddered at the memory, shoving it far away as she came to a stop just a few feet from Rose and the man.

Thick blonde hair that was gelled back expertly, he looked to be trying to grow some kind of mustache, although it was splotchy at best. He squinted into the sun towards her, no sunglasses in sight. The single winged badge stuck out along his uniform as he waited to see if she would say something first. However, he’d been waiting a long time for it, if that was the case.

“This is Arthur Bird,” Rose cut in quickly, having witnessed many awkward stare downs between Frank and newer members of the ATA. “Arthur, this is—”

“Captain Stella Frank,” Arthur tugged his hat off politely and Frank felt her sunglasses drift down the bridge of her nose as she stared back at him, part of her surprised that he not only knew her name, but addressed her with the proper rank. “Pleased to meet you. They spoke highly of you in Chester. One of the few women who ferry the big girls.”

Frank felt her stomach roll nervously, glancing over at Rose, but her friend’s face remained passive. “Oh?”

“Oh yeah—your name’s a regular around Hawarden for sure. Surprised you haven’t made Commander yet, honestly.”

Rose snorted, the man glancing over at her curiously, “Frank would set the building on fire if she had to do paperwork longer than fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen’s pushing it, honestly.” Frank looked over the airplane, “Are you flying with us…?”

“Oh, no,” Arthur shook his head as he took a step away from the girls, “This is my first week in Ratcliffe and it’s the first time I’ve seen one of the Fortresses in person, so I was just admiring it when Captain Phillips…Rose walked up and she mentioned you were on your way…” Frank glanced sideways towards Rose, her friend winking at her playfully, cigarette dangling between two fingers “...and I just wanted to say hello.”

“Hello.” Frank nodded her head, “I’m sure I’ll uh…see you around the base.”

“Oh yes, most definitely.” Arthur took another step back, hand lifting awkwardly, “Have a safe flight…”

Rose waved her fingers back to Aurthur, the boy, who couldn’t have been much older than twenty blushing deeply as he stumbled back before moving further down the tarmac. “What was that about?” Frank dropped her bag beside her feet to adjust her uniform, her belt one notch too loose. 

“I think he’s got a crush.” Rose teased, nudging her friend in the stomach, “Better tell your pilot to watch his wing.”

Frank only shook her head, rolling her eyes, “The poor thing almost shit himself, Rose.”

Rose laughed at that and Frank was glad to see her friend in better spirits before she went through her inspection of the plane, fingers running alongside the body as she completed her third circle around, something she always did each time she flew. Rose was already scrambling into the belly of the plane as Frank ducked down to do the same thing, following her friend through the body towards the cockpit. 

“Left or right?” Rose called over her shoulder. 

“I normally fly left, but since you’re going to do the flying, I’ll go right.”

Rose paused, glancing over her shoulder at her friend, confusion crossing her face, “I’m...what?”

“You’re flying.” Frank squeezed between Rose and the seat, slipping easily into it a moment later after stowing her bag, “I’m just your co-pilot.”

“I’m not authorized to—”

“Dorothy pulled some strings,” Frank motioned towards the chair and Rose slowly lowered herself down, eyes wide. “Consider this one of your training flights.” Rose was silent for several long seconds, eyes wide as she stared down at the yoke and controls, searching the instruments for what to say. “You still want to fly the Class Fives right?”

“Yes, of course,” Rose nodded, “I just didn’t think I’d get another chance for a while.”

“You can thank me later by buying me a drink.” Frank grinned playfully as she pulled on her headset, “I also managed to convince Dot to let us use leave for tomorrow, so we don’t have to be back until Friday evening.”

Rose shook her head slowly, “Do I even need to ask where we’re going?”

“Just a little place to the east,” Frank reached forward for the first few switches in her checklist, “you may have heard of it.”

“I have a feeling I have.” Despite not flying the B-17s often, Rose went through her fuel selectors checklist, confirming that they were all set to the proper engine before giving Frank a thumbs up to begin priming the engines. Both women had their eyes glued firmly to the dials, the four engines starting up one by one, warming up and humming before the next began. 

It wasn’t until all four engines were whirling in harmony that Frank pushed her sunglasses up on the bridge of her nose, stealing a glance towards Rose, “You ready?”

Rose nodded, eyes still wide as she inhaled deeply, “Do you still get nervous when you taxi these things?”

“Sometimes,” Frank helped Rose with the pedals and brakes, “especially when I’m taking off on a new base. But I’ve taken off at Ratcliffe so many times, it’s second nature now.”

Rose nodded, hands moving to grip the yoke as they slowly lined themselves up on the runway, all other aircraft and traffic halted as the massive plane moved across the tarmac, Rose taking the majority of the taxi as she lined them up along the centerline. Frank busied herself with her co-pilot duties, motioning towards the ground crew and conversing with the tower while Rose went through the final set of checks. 

“Flaps set?”

Frank nodded, “Check.”

“Tail wheel locked?”

“Check.”

Both of their headsets crackled a moment later, “Fortress, you’re clear for take off.”

The massive plane slowly rolled forward, Frank following Rose’s command as she called for increases in the throttle, keeping a careful eye on the airspeed indicator. The bomber picked up speed easily once it gained enough momentum, and Frank watched as Rose pulled back on the yoke, the nose wheel lifting off the ground a second later.

It wasn’t long until both of their stomachs rolled, the familiar feeling of the entire plane lifting into the air causing them both to inhale deeply, eyes trained on the scene before them. Frank raised the landing gear quickly once they were high enough, Rose adjusting the throttle after Frank assured her it was safe to do so, the aircraft climbing higher and higher in the sky until it kissed the clouds. 

“How does it feel?” Frank asked, looking at Rose once the flaps were retracted to their proper stage. 

“Like I’ve never flown before.” Frank could pick up on the anxiety in Rose’s tone, “It feels like learning all over again. This thing is just massive.”

“Imagine flying it from the states,” Frank settled into her seat once they reached cruising altitude, a half smile appearing at the corner of her lip as Rose refused to loosen up, “or even just across Europe, for that matter.”

“It must be so heavy,” Rose shook her head, “we’re just flying the two of us—but with all the weight of the bombs and men…? This thing must take a good minute to get off the ground.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought of that.” Frank watched Rose slowly loosen her posture, her shoulders rolling back, “How are you feeling?”

“About flying or about…the other thing?”

Frank only shrugged, “Whichever.”

“I’m alright.” Rose didn’t specify with she was referring to and Frank didn’t press any harder, “Are we staying in Thorpe Abbotts overnight?”

“That’s my plan,” Frank nodded, “unless you’d rather take the train somewhere else. I thought it might be fun to spend the evening with some of the Eighth Air Force.” 

Rose seemed to consider her words, glancing sideways towards her, “On a scale from one to five, not including your Major, how attractive are the men?” 

“Let’s just say I think you’ll be much more likely to find your Clark Gable look-a-like in East Anglia, than you would anywhere else.” 

---

Bucky glanced down at his watch as he exited Colonel Harding’s office, pulling on his hat as he made his way down the walkway towards the airfield. He didn’t know Frank’s exact arrival time, but he knew she’d be flying in anytime now, and he wanted to talk to Lemmons before she arrived. 

Despite it being a few weeks since the boys arrived and Huglin departed, he still had some things to clear up with the ground crew. He found Lemmons first, the sock hat giving the crew chief away as he approached. Kids from the village were scattered all around the engine that Lemmons was tucked under, the boys and girls chattering away as they watched on with interest. They greeted him happily when he reached them and Bucky only nodded in return, hands sliding into his pockets, “Hello—got a couple minutes, Corporal?”

Corporal Ken Lemmons pushed himself out from under the engine, squinting up at Bucky, the sun flashing over the taller man’s shoulders when he shifted. Lemmons motioned to the engine, “Is it important?”

Bucky shrugged, nodding his head back and forth, “I think so.”

Lemmons reached for the rag he had tucked in the back pocket of his coveralls, wiping his hands as he got to his feet, waving the children off as he and Bucky stood a few feet from where he’d just been. “What can I do for you, Major?”

“I just wanted to touch base since we’ve got a new CO now.” Bucky rested one of his hands on his hip, “I’m not tryin’ to tell you what to do, or tell your guys what to do—but I’d really appreciate it if they could try to keep anything they may see or hear between me and Frank to themselves. Harding doesn’t seem to be as rigid as Huglin was, but I’d like to avoid any more lectures about my personal life, you know?”

“I get it,” Lemmons nodded, tucking his rag back into his pocket, surprised that it had taken Bucky this long to confront him about it after they all heard about Huglin’s lecture. “I’ll try to have a word with them about the chatter. But uh—you also gotta do your part, Major. Some of my boys haven’t seen their ladies in quite awhile, and seeing you two be so affectionate takes them back to those last moments…”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bucky nodded, but before he was able to say anything further, the familiar rumble of a B-17 echoed in the distance, catching their attention and the attention of everyone else nearby, heads and eyes turning to the sky. “Speaking of—looks like she’s coming in now.”

“Don’t make my boys blush, Major, and we won’t have any problems.”

Bucky laughed at that, wide grin across his face as he turned his full attention to the approaching bomber, watching as his girl came in on her final approach, lining up with the runway she was given, the one furthest from them. He glanced over his shoulder to see Kidd already moving towards the Jeep, ready to pick Frank up from the plane and go over the paperwork she always brought when she ferried one in. 

He didn’t expect Kidd to swerve his way, the truck rolling to a near stop beside him, “You comin’ or what?”

Bucky didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, just barely getting himself situated before Kidd took off down the runway, both men watching as the B-17 touched down, puffs of smoke coming off the wheels when it did. The large plane roared as it slowed, the pilot expertly navigating it down the runway towards its designated spot on the hardstand. Bucky couldn’t help the way his face broke out in a smile as Kidd arrived at the Fortress and Jack only shook his head after glancing over at him, “The smile isn’t decent, Bucky.”

“You have no idea how badly I need to see her right now.” Bucky didn’t even care that his excitement was rolling off his shoulders in waves, his heart rate increasing as he prepared himself to see her in just a matter of seconds. It’d been a little over a week since he last saw her and he was antsy to hold her again, his eyes sweeping across the plane as he climbed out of the truck. He knew he’d be going up soon, there was no way around it, and he wanted to spend as much time with Stella Frank as he could.

However, a pair of boots landed on the ground he knew something was up almost immediately, the body shape and height not at all lining up to his girl and when the woman turned he felt his heart sink at not seeing Frank. He turned to glance at Kidd, fully prepared to interrogate the new Air Exec, who only seemed to be as confused as he did, when another bag landed roughly on the tarmac, a second set of boots hitting it a moment later. He didn’t hide his relief as he watched Frank adjust her jacket, the other girl with her saying something that made her chuckle softly. 

“You brought a friend?”

Frank juggled her helmet strap and bag in one hand as she led the way towards him, her friend following behind. Frank reached him in a few more steps, Bucky’s arm sliding out to reach for her bag, fingers gently grazing the inside of her wrist when he did, unsure of how much affection he could get away with now that she had brought someone with her. “This is Captain Rose Phillips, whom I believe you’ve spoken to, but not properly met.”

Bucky shifted Frank’s bag to his left hand before reaching his right out towards Rose, “Yes. I’ve heard some interesting stories, Rose. Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts.”

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you too, Major,” Rose released his hand after they shook and Bucky glanced towards Frank with his eyebrow arched, not at all missing the way her neck flushed. 

“Call me Bucky—everyone else does.”

“Bucky.” Rose tested the name out as she moved around the couple, walking towards the Jeep, “I do have some questions, though—”

“No,” Frank cut her off quickly, Bucky’s smile widening more as his girl flushed a darker shade of red, “No you don’t. Get in the car.”

Rose laughed over her shoulder, introducing herself to Jack Kidd before she climbed into the back of the jeep. Bucky tossed Frank’s bag into the back before sending her a small wink, his hand lifting to cup the side of her face. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to take her into his arms and forget that either of them had a job to do, but he kept his word to Lemmons and settled for a soft touch, his thumb swiping along the apple of her cheek. “Nice flight?”

“Pretty good,” Frank nodded, her eyes searching his own as he stared at her, “Clear skies and just a little wind.”

“Good,” Bucky’s fingers drifted down her jawline to her chin before he pulled them away, his eyes glancing towards her bag. “Are you still staying the night…?”

“Mhmm,” Frank walked with him towards the jeep, their fingers brushing against one another but not connecting, despite his itching to take hers and never let go, “I had to play teacher today—Rose is retesting in a month or so for the larger bodied aircrafts, so I found a way to help her with that and also get her out of Ratcliffe for a bit. Since Faye left she’s been a little…off…”

“Wanna play teacher tonight?”

“Major,” Frank hissed at him and he winked at her, hand brushing across the small of her back as she climbed into the car and settled beside Rose. “Jack—lovely to see you again.”

“You as well, Frank,” Kidd waited until Bucky closed the door to shift the Jeep into drive. 

“How’s the new job coming?”

“Long,” Kidd glanced sideways at Bucky, the taller man widening his eyes out to look more innocent than he was, “I’ve been dealing with a few messes, but I’ve almost got everything sorted out.”

“Good, I can only imagine the amount of paperwork left behind...”

“Oh,” Kidd rolled the wheel with the heel of his palm as he approached the tower, “you have no idea…”

“I’m sitting right here.”

Frank and Rose laughed as Kidd rolled his eyes, the truck shutting off once he finished parking it, taking much more care parking it in its designated spot than Bucky usually did. Rose hopped out first, thanking Kidd when he held his hand out for her to grasp and Frank didn’t hesitate to slide her own hand into Bucky’s, her smaller hand pressing into his perfectly. When her feet hit the ground again, Bucky held her hand for a few more long seconds, squeezing it gently before he finally let go, missing the feel of her palm against his. She held his gaze for even longer and just as he started to go through the list of places he thought they could sneak off too, Kidd interrupted them, looking between the girls, “Did you bring the paperwork...?”

“In my bag,” Frank nodded, their connection successfully broken as she busied herself with opening it and rifling through, Rose’s attention shifting between Frank’s red face and Bucky’s dark eyes. Frank pulled out the papers clipped together and Kidd motioned her to the tower where he could sign off on it, leaving Bucky and Rose alone beside the truck. 

“What’s it like to fly with Frank?” Bucky asked as he leaned against the truck, Rose’s attention shifting to him. 

“Fine,” Rose lifted a shoulder, “she’s pretty rigid in the Fortress. I’ve flown with her in smaller planes and she’s looser. If you catch her in just the right mood she’ll do some loops…as long as the plane allows it.”

Bucky paused for several moments, doing his best to picture her up in the air without a care in the world. “I definitely hope to catch her in that mood, then.”

Rose laughed, arms folding across her chest, eyes shifting as a group of men, both pilots and engineers, passed by. “How many single guys do you have on base?”

“Quite a few,” Bucky turned his head to glance towards the group, eyeing the men walking together. “What’s your type?” Rose only lifted an eyebrow and Bucky motioned her with two fingers, “C’mon—I can’t make sure they’re at the pub later if you don’t tell me.”

“Funny,” Rose finally said. “You got anyone here who looks like Clark Gable?”

Bucky made a face as he went through the boys on base, “Not incredibly so…How tall are you?”

“Height doesn’t matter,” Rose looked over her shoulder towards the building Frank disappeared into, “he just needs to be able to make me laugh.”

Bucky slipped his hands into his pockets as he smiled widely, “I think I’ve got just the guy.”

Notes:

I am SO SORRY for the delay! Life got pretty crazy, work got busy, and I found myself with very little writing time! I am having a few health issues and I go in for a procedure this week, so I would appreciate any and all good vibes you have! :)

I hope you enjoyed chapter twenty-two, I can't wait to get chapter twenty-three posted very soon! It's got all of our favorite boys and girls and it's one of my favorites! I can't wait to read your thoughts! Thank you for reading!

 

(You should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here! You can also read Bucky’s letter to his mother, as well as other deleted scenes to be posted soon!)

Chapter 23: XXIII

XXIII.

Frank buttoned her dress, fingers just finishing one of the last few along her chest when a knock sounded at the door. Walking through the room, she absentmindedly tugged open the door, half expecting to see Rose changed and ready to go downstairs with her. However, she wasn’t expecting to see Bucky leaning against the door frame, his long arm on display as his hand rested on the opposite side of the frame, wide grin across his face. 

The major whistled lowly, eyes trailing down her body before making their way back up, lingering just a little longer on the last two undone buttons. “Stop,” Frank laughed, her cheeks flaming slightly as he continued to eye her dress, “I can change back into my uniform if it’s too dressed up—“

Bucky entered the room slowly, an easy grin across his face before he caught her around the waist, lips brushing her forehead, her own hands resting along the planes of his chest. “You’re beautiful, Stell,” his voice was thicker than she expected and Frank found herself melting just a little more into him, her chin tilting up to request a kiss. 

Bucky granted her request almost immediately, one of his hands drifting up to rest along her chin, holding it between his thumb and the rest of his fingers as he kissed her fully. “I just did my lipstick,” Frank broke the kiss once Bucky deepended it, her fingers lifting to brush the smudged color off his mouth, resulting in him only smiling wider. 

“I think it’s my color.” 

Frank laughed, shaking her head as he dropped his head to kiss her again, noses brushing sweetly a moment later, “While I think pink champagne does look wonderful on you, I’d hate for the boys to give you a hard time.” 

“Mm,” Bucky followed Frank further into the room, eyes glued to her figure as she moved to the mirror to finish buttoning her dress, her eyes fluttering closed when she felt his arms snake around her waist from behind. “Maybe we should stay up here, then…” His teeth grazed the shell of her ear and Frank had to focus harder on her last button, “…let you get your pink champagne lipstick all over me…”

Frank sighed when she felt Bucky’s fingers graze her outer thigh, slowly bunching up her dress until he could reach her skin, hand running along the exposed flesh teasingly. “I can’t leave Rose...” 

Bucky lowered his head, pressing a line of teasing kisses along her neck, his hand flattening out along her thigh, eyes glued to the mirror as he drug her hemline higher and higher, his fingers exploring the soft skin that he planned to fully indulge in later tonight. “How is she doing?” 

“Better,” Frank watched Bucky drop her skirt, the material falling back into place as he smoothed it down gently, fingers trailing across her hip, “the opportunity to fly the fortress got her up and dressed. So hopefully one of your boys can help her smile a bit.”

“Curt’s good at that.” Bucky slowly turned her around to face him, fingers resting low on her back, “she’ll have fun. I already bribed Brady to play the piano if things get stale.” 

“He plays?” 

“Mhmm.” Bucky stole a quick kiss, eyes hooded, “music major and everything.”

“I never would’ve guessed,” Frank pushed herself up to her tiptoes to kiss him back, arms gently wrapping around his neck, “you’ll have to apologize to DeMarco for me. Amelia didn’t want to come.” 

“He’s a big boy.” Bucky kissed her again, foreheads almost touching, “It’ll do him some good to pine. Everywhere we go girls throw themselves at his feet—builds character.” 

Frank laughed, shaking her head as he nuzzled her, dropping his head to steal another kiss, this time pulling her impossibly close, her body pressed up against his. “Sure I can’t persuade you?” His voice was low and soft, only for her ears and Frank had to inhale deeply before she gave in completely, her own body urging her to walk him to the bed behind her. 

“I promise it’ll be worth it,” she whispered against his mouth, Bucky groaning when she teased his lower lip between hers, nipping it softly with her teeth. “We’ll have a few drinks, have fun with your friends, make sure Rose is doing ok, and then we can come up here a little while later…”

“How long is later?” Bucky walked her a step backwards, eyes staring down into hers as she let him step towards the bed, “‘Cause I can be quick now…”

“Or…” Frank pressed a hand to his stomach, effectively pausing his movements when he went to walk her back more, “We can save it for later and you can have a surprise...”

Bucky’s brain went blank as he groaned and Frank glided her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, smoothing out his uniformed jacket, “What kind of surprise?”

“Mmm,” Frank pressed herself closer, feeling just exactly how curious he was against her hip, the poor pilot uncomfortably restrained in his trousers, “I guess you’ll just have to find out, huh?”

Bucky caught her around the waist when she went to step away, hauling her back into his arms to kiss her deeply, catching her head with the back of his hand to keep her there, their tongues finally meeting after all the teasing, his hand slipping down her back to curve over her backside, long fingers squeezing gently. When they parted, Bucky’s voice was raw and a little strained, his hands moving to rest at their place on her back, “I’m gonna need a hint to get through this evening.”

Frank pulled away long enough to slide her shoes on, using his arm to steady herself as she did before she pushed herself back to her tiptoes, teeth brushing his earlobe, “It matches my lipstick.”

Bucky’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head and Frank just put her feet back to the floor when a loud knock sounded, Frank moving to look around Bucky at what she hadn’t realized was a partially open door, Bucky never having closed it fully. “You two exhibitionists or something?” Rose asked, eyeing them from the doorway, the red-head dressed in a lovely dusty pink dress, the V neckline lower than Frank’s with a matching tied belt around her waist, complimentary handbag under her arm. 

“Or something,” Frank released Bucky to walk to the dresser, grabbing her handbag but he shook his head at her, patting his pocket before holding his hand out, Frank moving to slip her fingers through his after she placed it back down. 

“Knew I forgot something,” Bucky took Frank’s room key from her once they exited the room and she pulled the door closed behind her, slipping it into his pocket before he and the girls started down the hall. “Rose—you look lovely.”

“Thank you, I know,” Rose smoothed down any imaginary wrinkles as she glanced down at her dress. “You look good too, I guess. Is that the only outfit you own?”

Bucky laughed as he let Rose and Frank walk down the stairs in front of him, his long fingers grazing Frank’s back when she passed, “Yeah—the only one that goes with my shoes, I think.”

“Pity,” Rose touched down first and Frank felt Bucky’s hand back on her hip once they stepped onto the ground level of the pub, locals and soldiers gathered in every corner. Music played from somewhere and there seemed to be a lively game of darts in the back corner. 

Bucky nodded them towards one of the tables near the darts, a few over from the one Frank sat at with his friends before and she felt Bucky’s hand slide across her back and arm, their fingers loosely tangling, “What’s your drink, Rose?”

“No, no,” Rose waved her handbag as she took her seat, legs crossing automatically, “I don’t want you buying my drink, that’s called an opening. Thank God you landed Frank, otherwise I’d worry about your courting skills, Major Egan.”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled in amusement, slow smile spreading across his face, “Oh…tonight’s going to be fun.” His eyes flickered to look at Frank, gently lifting her hand to press a soft kiss along her knuckles, “What can I get for you, angel?”

“Wine, please. Just to start.” Frank had to bite the inside of her cheek when he winked back at her, releasing her hand to move towards the bar. 

“Cigarette?”

Frank nodded, watching Rose pull one out of her bag, the lighter following a moment later. Frank took both from her, lighting her cigarette before taking a long drag, resting it between her index and middle fingers, “Not having one?”

Rose motioned for the lighter back and Frank slid it across the table, Rose stashing it back into her purse. “After I decide who I want to talk to.” Rose rested an elbow on the table, voice lowering slightly now that Bucky was far enough away, “Ok—so who do we like and who do we not like?”

“Everyone’s very nice,” Frank exhaled a stream of smoke, eyes flickering across the pub to see if she recognized any of the men. She spotted Buck walking towards Bucky, the two best friends greeting each other, Buck’s hand slapping Bucky’s shoulder, “Buck’s taken.”

“The blonde?”

Frank nodded. 

“I should have guessed that one.” Rose eyed the man beside Bucky, “He looks like he’s taken. Is he married, then?”

“Not yet,” Frank shook her head, “but from what I’ve heard, I don't think he’s far off from it.”

“Noted.” Rose nodded. “Who else?”

“Uh…” Frank tapped the edge of her cigarette against the ashtray on the table, eyes running across more of the men, “Brady’s in the corner over there. I’m told he can play the piano, but I’m not sure if he’s attached or not.”

“Long fingers, then. That’s nice—check for Brady.” Rose nodded, eyeing the pilot at one of the tables in the far corner, “Who’s with him?”

“I have no idea,” Frank shook her head, not at all recognizing the shorter man with him, a single, thin curl falling across his forehead, “I haven’t met him.”

“Probably not a pilot, then.” Rose pivoted, eyes sweeping the bar, “Where’s Amelia’s guy? What’s his name again? Has she completely shattered his hope?”

“DeMarco,” Frank craned her neck, trying to spot the familiar face, “Benny—but I don’t see him anywhere…Bucky says he’s pretty smitten with her, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not here. Last time I spoke with him, I told him not to give up.”

“Poor thing,” Rose made a face, “I’m not sure she’ll change her mind…”

“I think if he gives her space, but lets her know he’s still around, she might,” Frank lifted a shoulder. At Rose’s flat look Frank chuckled softly, taking a lengthy drag from her cigarette, “Or, you know…maybe not…”

Rose laughed at that, shaking her head, soft curls bouncing around her shoulders, “What about Dot? Anyone here that seems like they’re up for a challenge? Someone we could whisk back to Ratcliffe and entertain her while we sneak out after curfew again?”

“I don’t think she’s interested in their type,” Frank moved to rest her own elbow on the table, shifting in her chair to better cross her legs, free hand tugging the material of her dress so it fell correctly, “and the last time we snuck out, we nearly drove off the side of the road during the blackout.” 

“I have a sneaking suspicion she’s seeing someone anyway,” Rose waved her off, “I—”

“Excuse me a moment, ladies…” Frank and Rose turned to glance towards a man in uniform who was approaching their table, pipe resting in one hand, a half smile across his face. He had a decent enough face, although the way his gelled hair hung over his forehead soured Frank’s stomach a bit, his eyes just a little too focused on them, “but I think I just found the reason I’m here tonight.”

Rose’s smile remained, although Frank caught how the corner of her lips tightened, Frank’s only response a deep inhale of her cigarette, both girls holding their breath to see if he was going to finish his thought. “Cute,” Rose deadpanned as she eyed him from head to toe and back when he didn’t immediately continue and Frank had to turn her head at Rose’s reaction to the bad pick-up line to keep from snorting. “What’s your name?”

“William Flesh,” the man nodded his head to Rose, glancing over at Frank momentarily. She could tell from his uniform he was a Lieutenant, his smile making the hair along the back of her neck stand up when his eyes shifted back to her, slowly trailing down to her leg where the high slit in her dress parted the material, “Although everyone calls me Bill.”

“Bill,” Rose nodded, “lovely to meet you.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Flesh glanced back and forth between them, “A couple of beautiful girls like yourselves must be thirsty.”

Frank shook her head no and Rose declined politely, “Thanks, but no. Have a good night, Bill…”

“Where are you ladies from?” He stood beside the table, the stem of his pipe resting between his fingers, “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh, you know. Around.” Rose lifted a shoulder, her semi-polite smile falling ever so slightly, “Have a good night…”

“You know,” Flesh stuck his pipe between his teeth as he moved to rest his hands flat on their table, leaning down to talk to them as if he had a secret, “I fly really big planes…”

“Yeah, she does too.” Three heads turned to see Curt Biddick making his way over, eyeing Flesh as he wandered around the larger man, “She brings us the planes, bird brain.”

Flesh glanced over at Frank, looking at her differently now, eyebrows raised, “You fly the Fortresses?”

“Weekly, just about,” Frank watched Curt move towards the dart board, tugging out the darts before wandering back over. 

“Hi-ya, Frank,” Curt bowed playfully, eyes sliding over to look at Rose next, her own attention trained directly on him, “and Frank’s beautiful friend.”

Flesh only frowned, “Your name’s Frank?”

“Rose,” the girl in question rested her chin on her hand, Curt’s smile slowly growing as he took her in, the two ignoring Flesh as he stepped out of Curt’s way. 

“This is Lieutenant Curt Biddick,” Frank nodded towards the smiling pilot, “Curt, this is Captain Roes Phillips.”

“Nice to meet you, Curt.”

“Trust me,” Curt thumped the dart against the back of his hand, “the pleasure is all mine.”

Flesh moved away from the two who were now talking about the ATA, his attention zeroing in on Frank, “Is Frank your first name…?”

“No,” Frank brought the cigarette up to her lips, but didn’t offer any further explanation, watching as Flesh tried to figure out what he wanted to say next, clearly not expecting to struggle this much with either of the girls. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Wouldn’t do that,” Curt threw over his shoulder, the man having moved a little closer to Rose, hip leaning against the table. 

Frank felt her lips attempt a smile, but she held them back, watching as Flesh glanced over at Curt curiously for the second time this evening, “I’m sorry?”

“Wouldn’t do that,” Curt nodded towards Frank, arms folding across his chest as Rose looked on with interest. “Trust me—you’re better off movin’ on down the road.”

Flesh frowned at that, his body language changing as he turned to face Curt fully, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rose rolled her eyes in Frank’s direction and Frank only exhaled a stream of smoke in the opposite direction of her friend. Before Curt could say anything, Rose cut in, “It means she’s—”

“I didn’t ask you, sweetheart,” Flesh waved Rose off, his gaze still set on Curt, and Frank could tell by the way Flesh began shifting back and forth that Curt’s amused smile was starting to get to him. 

“There’s no need to cut the lady off, Flesh,” Curt shifted slightly, “she’s only tryin’ to save your ass.”

“Oh yeah, from who?” Flesh moved to his full height, towering over Curt by a good six inches, “From you? Are you saying you’ve got some kinda claim on them, Biddick?”

“No,” Curt shook his head, “I ain’t sayin’ that at all.”

“Then—”

“Flesh,” Bucky’s voice boomed from behind them and Frank glanced over her shoulder to see him approach, a drink in each of his hands, “What’s goin’ on over here, now?”

“Egan,” Flesh nodded slightly, eyes moving between Bucky, Curt, and the two girls, “I didn’t know you had arrived...”

“Showin’ my girl and her friend a night in Dicklesberg,” Bucky gently placed the glass of wine in front of Frank before he took a step to her side, effectively blocking her from Flesh. “Have a good night, alright?”

Flesh seemed to hesitate, and while Frank couldn’t see Bucky’s face she definitely picked up on how tense his back was, the major not moving until Flesh nodded to the girls and moved to rejoin his friends, his shoulder bumping into Curt’s as he walked away. 

Curt inhaled sharply, “Fuckin—”

“Let it go,” Bucky moved around the table to take the seat beside Frank, his drink landing on the table a second later, “he’ll be out of here soon if he doesn’t knock it off. I’m not in the mood to write you up too.”

“Who is that?” Rose asked as Bucky slid his arm over the back of Frank’s chair after he scooted closer to her. 

“A headache,” Bucky’s free hand moved to take hold of his glass and Frank held up the cigarette to him, Bucky leaning over to take a short drag from her fingers, “he’s been here less than a week and I’ve already had to drag his ass out of the Officers’ Club on three separate occasions for drunk fighting.”

“What is there to fight about at the Officer’s Club?” Rose lifted an eyebrow, her gaze briefly looking to Curt as he looked back at Bucky, “The music’s too loud? The liquor isn’t strong enough…?”

Bucky snorted, his fingers gently grazing the top of Frank’s shoulder, “No idea. But he’s been raging each time. I finally assigned an M.P. to him starting tomorrow. He’s lucky Huglin’s not here, otherwise his ass would probably be on a boat back to the states by now…”

“Huglin would can his pansy ass,” Curt rolled his head around on his shoulders, “guy’s got it comin’ for him, that’s for sure…”

“How is your new CO?” Frank asked as she reached for her wine, passing the cigarette to Bucky before she took a sip. “Harding…?”

“Harding’s good,” Bucky shrugged, gently tapping the cigarette on the ashtray before handing it back to Frank, “I think we’ll get along better than I did with Huglin…”

“For your sake, I hope so.” Frank leaned over to rest her hand on Bucky’s thigh and he smiled down at her, “Any word on when you might…”

“None yet,” Bucky shook his head, thumb grazing her upper arm as their eyes met, the world around them slowly blurring as they focused on one another. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, his words meant for her rather than anyone else, “But soon, I’d imagine. We’ll see.”

“Tell me Lieutenant…” Rose shifted to better look at Curt, his playful smile returning as he looked back at her, “Do you eat your veggies?”

Frank choked on her glass of wine, the alcohol burning her nose as she roughly placed the glass down onto the table, waving her hand before handing the cigarette to Bucky, his hand moving to rest on the back of her neck, yes glued to her face to make sure she was ok. “Oh my God,” Frank inhaled deeply, her voice a little horse from choking, the brunette coughing lightly to try to clear her nose and throat. 

“You alright?” Bucky stroked the back of Frank’s neck gently. 

Curt’s eyes shifted back and forth between the girls, as if he were trying to figure out what had just happened, knowing the wide smile across Rose’s face wasn’t a coincidence. “I eat my veggies most of the time, Captain.”

Bucky shifted in his chair, his arm sliding further around Frank’s shoulders when she leaned into him more, his voice lowering, “I feel like I’m missing something…”

Frank felt her cheeks warm, shaking her head as Bucky’s arm dangled off her shoulders. She reached for her wine to take a tentative sip, when Bucky lifted his other hand and waved towards the bar. A quick glance over her shoulder told her Buck was nearly at their table, the blonde nodding politely to Frank as he took his seat on the other side of Bucky, “Frank, always a pleasure.”

“Likewise, Buck.” Frank motioned towards Rose, who appeared to be in a quieter conversation with Curt now as he leaned against the table towards her, “This is Rose. She’s a fellow ATA pilot and one of my good friends. Rose, this is Major Gale Cleven.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rose gave Buck a nice smile in return and he nodded back as he settled in his seat, toothpick rolling between his teeth. 

“Good night?”

“Goin’ alright,” Buck rested his hand on the table, looking over at Frank to answer her question, “How was your flight today?”

“Rose flew us in this afternoon,” Frank felt the tips of Bucky’s fingers grazing the cuff of her short sleeve, his middle finger slipping just under the hem, “but it was a good day—nice weather.”

“Glad to hear it,” Buck reached for his toothpick, watching as Frank handed the cigarette to Bucky, his friend taking his turn with it. “Did I see Flesh…?”

“Yeah, he was weaseling his way around here,” Bucky grunted, hand moving to smooth out his pant leg, “Shouldn’t be back, though. Unless he just wants Curt to punch him in the nose.”

“I’d do it too!” Curt tossed over his shoulder and Buck and Bucky both chuckled at that.

Frank just settled into listening to Buck and Bucky discuss one of Flesh’s latest fights when her attention shifted to Curt and Rose, watching with widening eyes as Curt gently held his hand out for Rose, her friend taking it before letting him pull her up and out of her seat. Frank watched them move towards the bar, shaking her head when Rose glanced over her shoulder and sent her a playful wink. 

“He doesn’t look much like Clarke Gable,” Bucky sipped his drink, “but I knew they’d hit it off.”

---

It was about an hour later that Frank found herself up near the bar, one of Bucky’s arms wrapped tightly around her, his other gripping Buck’s shoulder as he finished telling her a story of them in basic training, both boys with big smiles. Buck was sober, Frank was almost sure she hadn’t seen him touch anything, let alone alcohol, but she could tell by the way Bucky’s cheeks tinted that he was feeling good, her own warm skin wanting to touch his, her third drink of the evening resting beside Bucky’s on the bar. “You’ve got your hands full, Frank, let’s just say that.” Buck laughed, “A man crazy enough to nickname some random fella he’s never met before is one you gotta watch.”

“I’ll remember that,” Frank felt Bucky’s hand slide just a little further down her hip, fingers spread out intentionally. When their laughter died down, she leaned her head back against his shoulder, Bucky shifting her in front of him slightly, “How’s Marge?”

“She’s doing well,” Buck nodded, reaching for the ginger and soda he requested from the bar after Anne set it down. “I wrote to her just a few hours ago. She’s helping her mom and aunt sew her cousin’s wedding dress…wedding’s this weekend, I believe. So I doubt she’ll get it before then, but I look forward to hearing about it.”

“Do you write to her every day?”

Buck shook his head, cheeks reddening slightly and Bucky nudged his friend with his shoe teasingly, “Just about, though.”

“A few times a week,” Buck corrected, “I’d like to do more, but I’m too busy walkin’ behind this fella and cleaning up his messes.”

Bucky lifted his glass in response, tapping it against Buck’s and Buck only shook his head, “That’s very sweet, Buck. I’m sure it’s her highlight.”

“I hope so,” Buck glanced down at his feet, “it’s definitely mine.”

Frank rested her hand to her chest as Bucky moved completely behind her, both of his arms wrapping around her. In the background, she was vaguely aware of the song changing. “Buck, if you don’t mind. I’d like to take this lovely lady out for a spin.”

Buck held his hands up and Frank gave him a smile before letting Bucky escort her out to the space a few other couples were busy dancing in, the slower song attracting a few more people than usual. Bucky gently laced his fingers with hers before pulling her into his arms, smiling down at her. “I haven’t seen Curt or Rose in awhile…think they’re already upstairs?”

“No,” Frank looped her arms around his neck, Bucky’s fingers releasing hers before his found their home along her waist and back, “they’re over behind the post playing darts. Curt’s teaching her how.”

Bucky turned to look over his shoulder, finally catching sight of Rose’s fiery hair and his friend pressed up behind her, one hand resting on her elbow, “I thought she knew how to play…”

“She does,” Frank’s index finger twirled the ends of his hair as he guided her around the small space, “but this way she has an excuse for him to get closer.”

“Ah,” Bucky drew her in a little more, “closer, you say?” Frank nodded, eyes shifting down to look at his lips when he lowered his face down to hers, “Did you ever do something to get me closer?”

Frank almost felt Bucky’s lips brush along hers, her eyes fluttering closed, but before she could feel his kiss, their moment was interrupted, a hand landing on Bucky’s shoulder roughly, “Bucky! You’re here!”
Bucky grunted, one hand dropping to roll his shoulders back, a strained smile across his lips, “Blakely—you finally arrived…”

“Runnin’ behind today, but better late than never.” Blakely’s attention turned to Frank, “This must be the girl we’ve been hearing all about…”

“Yeah,” Bucky rested his hand along the small of Frank’s back, his tone a little exasperated. “This is Frank. Frank, this is Blakely.”

Frank accepted Blakely’s hand, the man shaking it happily, “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” Blakely nodded before squeezing it gently, releasing it a second later. “The boys don’t stop talking about you, I knew it was only a matter of time before I met you or ran into you on base. How do you like flying the forts?”

“They’re not bad,” Frank felt Bucky exhale slowly, “I enjoy the size, though. When you’re so used to flying smaller planes and then you get in one of the big boys it’s a completely different experience.”

“I believe it,” Blakely nodded. “Where are you from?”

Frank hated this question, placing it right below her least favorite question: her family. She found herself subconsciously leaning a little more against Bucky as she answered, “Texas.”

“I know a lot of boys from there,” Blakely nodded. “Did you learn to fly there or…?”

“No, no,” Frank shook her head, feeling Bucky's arm slip all the way around her waist now, “California, actually…”

“Wow,” Blakely shook his head, eyes wide as he looked back at her, “I bet that’s a story. I’ve never been to California before… What did your parents—”

“You’ll have to go after the war,” Bucky seemed to pick up on Frank’s mood shift, both of his hands moving to grip her hips. “If you’ll excuse us, I’ve gotta get the lady a drink.”

“Nice to meet you!” Blakely nodded back right away and Frank let Bucky escort her to a quieter end of the bar, her back resting against one of the wooden support posts once they were far enough away. 

“He’s harmless,” Bucky lifted his hand to rest his finger under her chin, tilting her head up, his eyes searching hers, “just annoying as hell.”

Frank laughed, thankful for him lightening the mood, her head resting back against the post as he stared down at her, his blue eyes darker than they were earlier, “Thank you for getting us away.”

“Course,” Bucky nodded towards the bar, “do you want another drink, angel?”

Frank shook her head no, eyes fluttering closed when she felt the pad of his thumb brush along her chin and cheek, taking comfort in his touch, “Not right now at least…”

Bucky lowered his head, lips just barely touching hers when he felt hands on his back and waist, Bucky tensing up immediately, whirling around to grab onto the hand that grabbed him, staring down at a very wide eyed Curt Biddick, his friend trying to reach for his pocket. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I need a condom,” Curt’s voice dropped considerably and Frank wouldn’t have heard it if she and Bucky hadn’t been as close as they were, “I didn’t bring any. You didn’t tell me I was gonna meet the girl of my dreams tonight.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes, yes.” Curt motioned towards the staircase where Rose was now chatting with Blakely, “C’mon. Please. I’m beggin’ you. Let me have one before she changes her mind or somethin’.”

“Curt—”

“Boys,” Buck approached, nodding towards the door, “I think I’m gonna head out…”

Curt ignored Buck, his hands moving to press together under his chin, “Bucky—Major. Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll owe you one. Please.”

“What’s wrong?” Buck’s eyebrows frowned as he glanced at Frank, his best friend’s girl only shaking her head, her face and neck reddening. 

“Curt didn’t bring any condoms,” Bucky said. 

“Oh, hell,” Buck shook his head no, motioning towards the door, “I’m leaving. Good night, fellas. Try not to do anything too dumb tonight.”

Frank waved goodbye, Buck ducking out of the pub doors as she watched Bucky unbutton his jacket, hand digging around in one of the inside pockets of it, “You owe me big time, Curt.”

“Anything you want, just name it.” Curt was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I’ll do anything. Swear.”

Frank watched Bucky pull out one of the narrow cardboard boxes before handing it to Curt, the shorter man discreetly tucking it into his pocket before grinning widely, “Thank you, Bucky. I owe you. Truely...”

“Yeah you do,” Bucky buttoned his jacket. “Glad she’s interested…”

Curt paused a few feet away, half turning to hold up a finger, “Any chance I can get two…?”

Bucky waved him off with a shake of his head, “Get outta here.”

“Love you—mean it!”

Frank couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head as Bucky rolled his eyes, adjusting his jacket by the hem, “S’what I get for bein’ prepared now.”

Frank looped her arms around his neck, lips ghosting across his jawline, “That wasn’t your only one, right?”

Bucky shook his head, nose brushing hers, “Nah—I got enough for tonight and tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow…?” Frank drug her index finger down the back of his neck, “Someone’s planning a good time…”

“Bet your ass I am,” Bucky gave her a peck that they both wanted to deepen, “gotta enjoy whatever it is that matches these beautiful lips…”

Frank smiled up at him, feeling his hand trail down her back, following the curve of her spine. She slowly pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes to reach his jawline, whispering softly, “Since Rose is occupied…is it too early to call it a night, Major?”

Bucky groaned, fingers gripping her tighter as he took a step back towards the staircase, “I think it’s the perfect time to slip away, Captain.”

Frank tried to keep it innocent, but she was sure by the way they were both giggling on their way up the stairs that anyone who spotted them knew exactly where they were going. They passed Rose’s door on the way down the hall and Frank silently thanked Anne for not giving them rooms beside one another. The last thing she wanted to hear was her best friend and Curt Biddick spending an evening together. 

Frank fumbled with the lock, Bucky distracting her as he pushed her hair to one side, lips attaching to the side of her neck. Once inside with the door relocked, Frank found her back against it, Bucky’s hand catching her by the back of the head, protecting her head from the door as he pressed her into it. His lips descended onto hers immediately, her own hands reaching for his jacket and fumbling to push it off his shoulders. 

Their kiss turned even more heated, all tongue and teeth, and Frank gently tugged on his long tie, pulling him even closer as his hands fumbled for her waist, gently hitching up her right leg as he pressed his pelvis to hers. “Fuck,” Bucky all but growled into her ear when she tugged on his tie again, “I’ve been waiting for this all night.”

Frank nodded in agreement, head landing back against the door as Bucky nudged her chin up, lips pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to her throat. He just finished unbuttoning the first three buttons of her dress, the hand holding up her leg sliding inside of the slit, fingers walking up from her knee. She let out a breathy moan, her hips pressed into his when two quick knocks sounded on the door. 

“Fuck!” Frank’s leg dropped as Bucky pressed his forehead to hers, hands resetting flat on the door on either side of her head, both of them out of breath, chests heaving. When she was able to move, Frank ran her hands down his chest before stepping out of the way, Bucky inhaling a few more gulps of air before he unlocked the door and tugged it open. “What, Curt?” Bucky took in his friend's own rumpled appearance, the Lieutenant standing there without a jacket and tie, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, belt missing. 

“I don’t need this,” Curt handed the condom back to Bucky, “Just wanted to return it in case you do…she’s got a thing and I’m clean, so…”

Bucky’s only response was to grab the condom and slam the door in Curt’s face, the narrow box landing on the dresser a moment later before he crossed the three or four steps to Frank and took her into his arms. Their next kiss was more passionate than the last, and Frank gasped when Bucky nipped her lower lip, her own fingers digging into his hair as she pressed herself close. Frank half expected Bucky to bring her to bed, but when he remained standing in the middle of the floor she felt herself grow a little bolder, pulling away far enough she could press her hands to his chest and walk him back to the bed. 

He landed on the mattress first, hands reaching for her hips to bring her with him when she shook her head, walking back a step to slip out of her shoes, hands moving to her buttons as she undid the rest of her dress. Bucky watched with the intensity of a man who hadn’t been with a woman in a long time, his hair disheveled and pupils blown, tie half over his shoulder. He followed her hands as she finished unbuttoning her dress, the short zipper dragging down along her side before she allowed the material to fall from her shoulders, dress pooling at her feet. 

“Fuck,” Bucky struggled with where to look first, his eyes glued to his girl and the soft pink silk romper she wore, thin straps resting along her shoulders, his mind already thinking of how he wanted to drag those down with his teeth. “You’re a dream, Stella.” 

Frank blushed and Bucky kicked his shoes off, hands moving to pull his tie loose, tossing the material somewhere behind him. Frank’s hands smoothed down her hips, lip caught between her teeth and Bucky just finished tugging his belt loose before he stood and approached. He grazed her body with his hands, just barely touching her as he explored the silky material, eyes looking everywhere to take her in. “You’re so beautiful,” his voice was barely above a whisper and Frank felt his fingers gently push her hair over her shoulder, thumb gliding along one of her straps, “all this for me?” 

Frank nodded, her hands gently moving to rest on his waist, fingers working the buttons of his uniformed shirt, “You’re the first person to see this.” 

“I like it even more…” He dropped his head to press an open mouthed kiss to her shoulder, lips trailing down to her collarbone where she felt him nip and suck lightly. When he pulled away to admire the growing mark along her chest, his eyes turned to hers, “Did you have a good night downstairs?” 

Frank nodded, letting Bucky lace their fingers before pulling her in front of him, her eyes finding his in the mirror that he took a step towards. “I did, did you?” 

Bucky nodded, releasing her fingers as lips moving along her throat, his hands curving down her sides until they were flat along her hip bones, “Had fun, but I’m ready for an even better time up here.”  

Frank’s laugh turned to a soft moan as Bucky nosed the strap of her lingerie down, thin material sliding along her upper arm. It was looser than some of her other sets, so the swell of her breast appeared as soon as the strap fell, Bucky’s right hand lifting to cup her breast, Frank extending her neck as she watched his thumb brush along the exposed skin in the mirror. Bucky stroked and massaged, his other hand flirting with the hem of her romper shorts, fingers dragging along her thigh. She watched him explore the material, her eyes flickering between his hands, and it wasn’t until he pulled her entire breast free, fingers expertly sliding along her nipple that she closed her eyes. 

His fingers were rough, but wonderful all at the same time, swirling and stroking, tugging and teasing, his lips pressed to her ear as he watched her in the mirror. Frank let out a breathy sigh when he drug his thumb across her now alert and sensitive nipple. “You’re stunning,” Bucky mouthed at her ear, his hand flattening along her stomach before running down her body, fingers touching that space between her legs first, “the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen.” 

Frank gasped when he cupped her, his hips pressing into her back firmly, his other hand making its way up to the strap that still remained, fingers working to push it off her shoulder, the thumb of his opposite hand teasing her between her legs, Frank’s exhales starting to come out in soft pants. He brought her right nipple to attention the same way he did her left, tugging and massaging it, licking his lips as he did and Frank arched slightly, her entire body feeling as if it were on fire. 

Bucky’s hand left the space between her legs before he turned Frank around, gently walking her back against the mirror, the chilly glass contrasting with his warm hands caused goosebumps to appear on her arms. Bucky kissed down her neck and shoulders, both hands cupping her breasts before he licked and sucked his way around both her nipples, pulling away enough that when he released her breasts he watched them bounce back into place, groaning as he got to his knees. 

Frank gasped when he kissed her stomach and belly button, hands playing with the part of the romper that gathered at her hips, and when she thought he was going to remove it completely, did he press his mouth to her over the material. Frank moaned, hips bucking as her head landed on the mirror and Bucky squeezed and massaged her legs as he inhaled deeply. He played for a while longer, kissing and stroking her through the thin fabric until he was satisfied with her noises, the material falling down to her ankles before he was back on her. He pulled her lips apart with his thumbs, eyes flickering up to meet hers as he dove in, long nose brushing her deliciously, his mouth hotter than anything she had ever experienced before. 

She gasped and moaned, her eyes glued to his as he worked her with his tongue, stroking, lapping, and teasing her over and over again, to the point she couldn’t help but arch her back further off the mirror. Her hand shot to his hair when he rolled his tongue back inside of her, and Bucky groaned when she tugged on his strands, his eyes closing when she did it again. 

Frank gasped when his hand curved over her left butt cheek, following it down to the back of her thigh before he brought her left leg up and over his shoulder, tongue sliding in even further inside her. “John,” Frank half whined, half gasped, “oh my God. John.” He hummed against her, pulling away enough that he could blow a steady stream of air against her, Frank fluttering as he did, his eyes glued to her as his fingers gently dipped in, teasing her entrance. “Oh fuck,” Frank bit down on her lip as she rolled her hips into his hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” he kissed her thigh, fingers stroking her walls as he watched her rock against his hand, “so fuckin’ amazing, Stell. Dripping for me…you gonna come for me, angel?” 

Frank nodded, chest heaving as she felt that familiar pressure in her lower abdomen, her lips parted and eyes wild as she looked down at him, watching him lean to kiss her clit. She finally let go when Bucky did it again, his tongue drawing misshapen designs against her, her head and shoulders thrown back as she cried out loudly, entire body spasming from the intensity of her orgasm. 

Bucky helped her step out of the romper once she regained movement in her legs, her back finding the soft mattress not long after, and when Bucky slid into the space beside her, he was naked, condom wrapped around his length as his lips found hers for a sweet, slow kiss. She cupped his jaw, humming as he deepened the kiss, their tongues meeting a moment later. She enjoyed kissing him on the bed, vaguely aware of them shifting up to the pillows, Bucky stroking the soft skin of her neck as he rolled over on top of her. “Good?” 

“So good,” Frank whispered back, their foreheads touching softly, lips brushing as they spoke, her toes curling at feeling him on top of her, his body just barely hovering over hers. 

“Good,” he kissed her nose before she felt his hand wrap around her thigh, dragging her leg over his hip as he positioned himself expertly, and Frank’s eyes rolled back into her head when he slipped inside her, the two connecting wonderfully. 

They moved together well, bodies rocking as the intensity ebbed and flowed, headboard knocking gently into the wall and Frank briefly hoped no one was in the room beside theirs. Bucky buried his face in her neck, alternating between kissing her neck and whispering in her ear, letting her know just how amazing he thought she was, how great she felt, and how turned on he was, their fingers lacing together several minutes later. Frank moaned softly when she felt Bucky lift her arms over her head, his palms pressing the backs of her hands down to the mattress as they both neared their highs, hips snapping and moans echoing not long after. Frank squeezed his hands when she felt that familiar feeling again, head thrown back as she cried out, her thighs squeezing his hips, and Bucky followed behind not long after, groaning lowly when he finally stilled on top of her. 

They breathed heavily together, Frank flexing her fingers after she untangled from his, stretching out her legs. When Bucky shifted she spasmed all around him, the major groaning into her neck, his head dropping to kiss her chest and cleavage, long nose brushing the space between her breasts as he slowly pulled himself out of her. 

Frank watched him dispose of the condom before crawling back in bed with her, his lips finding hers almost immediately, the two sharing several slow, lingering kisses in the afterglow of sex. She felt Bucky rest his hand against her chest, his eyes finding hers as he felt her heartbeat begin to slow, beating comfortingly in time with his. She pressed her hand over the top of his, and he kissed the space between her eyebrows, the unspoken words he was ready to say, but she wasn’t, falling silently between them. 

Notes:

Hello! I hope you enjoyed our extra long chapter! I'm so excited to read your thoughts! Getting Rose in with the boys is something I've been looking forward to since the beginning, and I'm really enjoying writing Bucky and Frank getting more comfortable with each other. Thank you all for reading!!

And thank you to everyone who reached out, commented, or sent me a message on Tumblr about my procedure! It went well and I was back to normal after a few hours. I don't have the results yet, but my doctor swung by when I was in recovery and said everything "looked great," so I'm hoping for the best! I went in for some imaging today, so fingers crossed all looks good there too.

 

(If you can't wait for the next chapter, you should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here! You can also read Bucky’s letter to his mother, as well as other deleted scenes to be posted soon!)

Chapter 24: XXIV

Notes:

8/6 Edit: The first conversation of the chapter was edited a little. Upon rereading it, I found it was redundant to an earlier conversation, so it was changed to flow easier. Thanks for reading!

XXIV.

“What’s your favorite food?” 

“Mmm.” Bucky’s morning voice filled her ears a moment later, thick with both sleep and something else, one hand resting low on her hip while his other arm lay under their shared pillow, his hand moving to reach for hers, their fingers lacing together easily in the early morning light. “I don’t know. I'll eat anything.” 

Frank felt the hand on her hip lightly draw shapes along her bare skin, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to her shoulder as she hummed in response, “You don’t have a favorite food?”

“It’s not really something I spend too much time on,” Bucky’s eyes were closed and Frank knew he was hovering somewhere between awake and dreamworld, his words slower. “Do you have a favorite food?”

“Yes, of course—dessert.” Frank felt him snort into her skin at how quickly she responded, the hair of his mustache tickling the space where her neck and shoulder met when he pressed a lingering kiss, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Bucky laughed at that, arm snaking around her fully to squeeze her back into his chest, Frank’s giggle joining in with his a moment later when he blew a raspberry into her neck, “I can assure you, Captain, I never intend to be ridiculous…” Frank tilted her head when she felt his hand snake down between her thighs, her lips parting softly when he reached his destination, “As a squadron commander for the 418th, I am the epitome of seriousness.”

Frank laughed loudly at that and Bucky grinned into her neck, rolling onto his back before dragging her with him, the palms of his hands resting on her thighs as she sat along his hips, “That’s exactly what I think of when I think of you,” Frank’s fingers skimmed the thin hair along his chest, feeling the cool metal of his dog tags a few moments later, “What about a favorite animal?”

“I have a favorite extinct animal.”

Frank’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline, eyes trained down on Bucky’s face as he looked up a her with a lazy half smile, the palm of his left hand gently massaging her thigh where she’d gotten a leg cramp earlier this morning after they attempted a position that was really better suited when they weren’t half asleep, “An extinct animal?”

“Mhmm.” Bucky didn’t appear to see anything wrong with that, eyes lifting to her face, “What? You don’t?”

“Uh…” Frank shook her head, wanting to make sure that in her tired brain fog she hadn’t misheard him, “No? What…what extinct animals are there?”

“Well, the unicorn, for one,” Bucky lifted his eyebrows and Frank had to cock her head to really take him in, searching his face for any hint of humor, but all she found was seriousness, “and that one just so happens to be my favorite.”

“The unicorn is your favorite animal?”

“My favorite extinct animal,” Bucky followed her leg upward until he reached her hips, gently pulling her closer to him, “there’s a difference.”

“I—” Frank closed her mouth, her hands flat along his chest as he looked up at her with all the seriousness in the world, a very small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth at how adorable she found him in this moment, “I’ve never thought about it. Dogs are my favorite living animal, though.”

“Yeah?” Bucky adjusted his position under her, and Frank felt herself warm at what she was pretty sure she just fell, her fingers moving up to his shoulders before she leaned down and kissed him slowly, his hand moving until it was along the small of her back, the man below her eagerly returning her kiss. When they parted she sat back up, but Bucky’s hand remained just above the curve of her backside, “What kinda dog?”

“All dogs?” Frank lifted a shoulder and she felt his other hand lift to brush some of her hair over her other, “I’ve never had one before, always wanted one. Have you ever had a dog?”

“Had one growing up,” Bucky yawned briefly, “Betty, my dad’s hunting dog. Turns out she wasn’t the best retriever, so she ended up as the house dog, walked my sisters and I to and from school sometimes.”

“That’s sweet.” Frank smiled and he only hummed, “How many sisters do you have?”

“Two,” Bucky stretched his neck out, “Frances is older and Eileen’s the baby. Eileen got married a few years ago. Lowell’s doing…something in the USAAF...? I can’t remember what, but he’s been going through training for a bit now.”

Frank drug her hands across his chest until she reached his shoulders again, massaging them as Bucky grunted happily, his own hands moving to rest along her arms, gently rubbing up and down, “You don’t like Lowell?”

“I didn’t say that,” Bucky winked at her and Frank laughed, one of her hands lifting as he pulled it up to his lips, mouth brushing along her knuckles, “I just think Eileen coulda done a little better. That’s all.”

“How much younger is she?”

“She’s six years younger,” Bucky kissed his way from her knuckles to her wrist and back, “Frances and I are just two years apart.”

“Closer with her?”

“Sometimes,” Bucky pushed himself up onto his elbows, extending his neck in a request for a kiss, Frank’s hands lifting from his chest and shoulders to cup his face, their lips meeting softly, “sometimes they both gang up on me.” She laughed, their foreheads pressed together as his arms wrapped fully around her, Frank letting him claim another kiss, her fingers brushing along the morning stubble across his cheeks and neck. When they parted, Bucky pressed a series of kisses along her collarbones and neck, his stubble brushing the thin skin along her chest as he kissed his way to the swell of her breast. “I expect a few letters soon.”

“Why’s that?” Frank sank her fingers into his curls, back arching slightly as he nosed his way around her left breast, butterflies erupting in her lower stomach when one of his hands cupped her, thumb dragging across the nipple. 

“Wrote about you,” Bucky sucked a harsher kiss to her breast before he soothed it with his tongue. 

“You…” Frank gasped when he wrapped his tongue around her nipple, her fingers pulling at his hair as she automatically rocked into him when his teeth grazed it, “you wro—oh—te about me ?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky didn’t offer any further information, his head lifting enough to move to her other breast, kissing his way to her other nipple, “to mom, but she’ll share it with them, I’m sure. Probably everyone she knows too—the whole damn street, her alter society…bridge club…”

“Fuck.” Frank tilted her head back when he bit down a little harder on her nipple, her hips rolling against his in response, “What did you say?”

Bucky shook his head and she detected a slight blush across his cheeks as he lifted his face from her chest, both of his hands sliding up her sides until he could cup each of her breasts in his hands, thumbs rolling her nipples exactly how she liked best, “Good?”

Frank nodded, lip pulled between her teeth as he circled and flicked, his eyes glued to hers as she lowered her head to kiss him deeply, his hands releasing her breasts to slide around to her back, her Major rolling them until he hovered above her. His chilly dog tags shocked her overheated skin, Frank gasping slightly and he took that opportunity to nip her lower lip before pulling away. He reached down between them, long fingers wrapping around his almost hard cock before he pulled away further. Frank let Bucky part her legs, one of his hands running along her thigh as he stroked himself. 

She could feel her heart rate increasing, eyes glued to the hand that held his penis, watching as he nudged it along the crease of her leg, “Bucky…”

“Trust me, angel,” he dropped his head to kiss her bended knee, “I’m clean—not goin’ inside, just wanna feel for a minute…” Frank bit her lip as she propped herself up on her elbows, the butterflies in her stomach all but exploding as he gently drug the head of his cock between her folds. She tilted her head back when he did it again, his smooth tip nudging her in just the right way that she moaned softly, her hips gently rolling as he worked his way back down, coating himself in her. “Like that?”

Frank nodded, moaning again when he followed the same path, moving at an excruciatingly slow pace before nudging her clit again, teasing them both in the process. “Please tell me you have another condom.”

Bucky grinned and Frank watched him push himself off the bed, both of them knowing that if he didn’t, they’d both be in trouble soon. He retrieved the condom off the dresser that Curt returned last night, holding it up between two fingers to show her, “Last one.”

“Thank God for Curt,” Frank collapsed back onto the bed, her hands brushing along her stomach and hips, head turning to watch him slip it on before walking back to bed. They’d used an entire box last night before they tired themselves out, and then another two this morning, the first one they attempted before the sun came up ripping when Bucky pulled it on, which only resulted in him having to grab a back up frantically. 

“Let’s not get that carried away,” Bucky rejoined her on the bed, his knees hitting the mattress before his hands landed on either side of her head, “he’s just alright.”

Frank laughed as she cupped his jaw, kissing him softly as he shifted her hips to get the best angle, “I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Let’s not talk about Curt Biddick when I’m about to be inside you,” he dropped his lips to her shoulder, hand guiding himself along her again before he notched himself inside, his other hand moving to raise her thigh, giving him a little more room to slide in deeper, Frank squeezing him tightly when he did, “fuck, Stella.”

“What do you want to talk about, then?” Frank was only half teasing, the fingers of one hand lost in the back of his hair, the other moving to slide along his bicep, her body moving with his in a way that made her feel like she was on fire, “Baseball?”

“I’ll come right now if you do that,” he snapped his hips for emphasis and Frank laughed, her knees lifting to lock around his hips. “What I wouldn’t give to have you in a jersey right now...”

Frank’s laughter died down into giggles, which quickly turned into moans, her fingers carding through his hair as the familiar creaking of the mattress filled the room. The sun was higher up in the sky, more light streaming in through the narrow gap in the curtains and briefly Frank worried they were too late and Bucky would be in trouble for not returning back to base last night, but then he drug her knee upwards towards her shoulder and all thoughts that didn’t involve the way he was thrusting into her, or the way his dogs tags drug across her skin, flew from her mind. 

---

Frank refused to meet Buck’s eyes when he picked them up in the jeep a few hours later, however, the man behind her didn’t seem to have that problem at all as he loudly called out, “Go-od morning, Buck!”

“Bucky,” Buck watched as Bucky helped Frank into the jeep before he climbed in after her, “your watch lose the time or something?”

“Or something, is right,” Bucky leaned back in his seat, a wide grin across his face as he stretched his arm out to knock his knuckles into Buck’s shoulder. “Why? Miss me?”

“Every second of every day,” Buck’s reply was quick and Frank laughed softly as he took off down the road towards the base, “Rose is already down at the airfield. Curt’s givin’ her the grand tour.”

“Oh, I bet he is,” Bucky rested his arm along the windowless truck, hand moving to adjust his sunglasses as they picked up speed along the dirt road, “Frank went to check on her awhile ago but she had already left the room.”

“She had breakfast with us in the mess,” Buck rested his wrist along the wheel before sneaking a glance towards Bucky, “and I thought you were bad...”

Frank exhaled from the back seat, head tilting upwards to glance up at the sky, “I apologize on her behalf, Buck…”

“This, I gotta hear,” Bucky shifted in his seat, tugging on his uniformed jacket in anticipation, “she give you a play by play? Not gonna lie, I fully expected Biddick to be naked when Frank knocked on the door...”

“Nah—he returned last night,” Buck shook his head, “granted it was late, but he did come back.” They reached the outskirts of the base just a few minutes later, the Thorpe Abbotts sign identifying where the farmland ended and the military base began, and when Bucky didn’t say anything further Buck asked, “Did you eat?”

“At the pub,” Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, watching some huts come into view, men on their way back from breakfast to their daily duties, “I’m surprised Curt returned…”

“You know Curt…” Buck removed the toothpick he had between his teeth, “He doesn’t have enough brass to back up his actions like someone else I know.”

Bucky's head rolled to the side and the smile he had across his face made Frank's stomach flip, her eyes glued to his dimples, “I think Harding just has a soft spot for me.” 

“Yeah, let’s go with that,” Buck shot Frank a look in the rear view and she only laughed softly, her eyes sweeping across the area around them as they slowed to a stop, tires squelching in the mud. Bucky was out first, long legs unfolding before he reached for Frank’s hand, helping her out of the car, his eyes glued to her, taking in her casual, non-uniformed appearance, liking the way she looked in her high waisted trousers, the light sweater she wore tucked in only creating a flattering silhouette that he’d be thinking about, in detail, the rest of the week. 

“Gotta check in briefly,” Bucky leaned down to press a light and quick kiss to Frank’s temple, “Wait for me? Then we can go find Rose…?”

Frank nodded, watching as Bucky moved towards one of the huts, tugging his hat off before he slipped inside. Buck came up beside her, one hand in his pocket. Frank smiled at him politely, following the blonde when he nodded for her to walk with him. “I have a question for you, Buck…” Frank said, her own hands sliding into her pockets comfortably. 

“Should I be nervous?”

“No,” Frank snorted, shaking her head, eyes trained downward to watch for any soft spots in the dirt, wanting to avoid dirtying up her shoes as much as she could. “So…the unicorn thing…?”

Buck couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up his chest, wide smile across his face as he ducked his head, “Do I want to know how you stumbled across the unicorn thing?"

Frank fought with her smile, cheeks warming slightly, “I asked him what his favorite animal was.”

“Ah—I see,” Buck shook his head, “I have no idea, Frank. John Egan’s an enigma, sometimes. I’m not sure I’d get much else done if I spent any more time thinking about why that man thinks the way he does.”

“Fair,” Frank nodded in understanding, “I had no idea that someone could have such strong opinions on a mythical creature.”

“Best not to tell him that,” Buck nudged her with his elbow, “trust me—I’ve been there. Next time we go out, remind me to tell you the Narwhal story…”

“I cannot wait for that,” Frank laughed, shaking her head as they paused a few buildings over, her eyes sweeping the landscape as she watched cows in the distance. “Thank you, again. For the other night when I called from Scotland. I was pretty messed up and talking to you helped.” 

“Happy to help, Frank,” Buck nodded, his own gaze shifting to look at the cows, “I meant everything I said when you called—it takes a strong person to know when they need a second, just like it takes a strong person to do what we do every day. People go up and they don’t always come back, and that’s a tough pill to swallow.” 

“Do you ever have nightmares?” Frank glanced sideways at him, her eyes taking in the passive look across his face, “or is that too forward for me to ask...?"

“You can ask me anything,” Buck shook his head, “sometimes. Not all the time. Are you having some?” 

Frank nodded, her eyes clouding slightly when she turned to look back at the livestock, briefly thinking of the nightmares that had plagued her when she was asleep in her bed at Ratcliffe. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't felt some nervousness before falling asleep last night, not wanting to concern Bucky if she woke up startled. Thankfully she hadn't. “Sometimes it’s the exact situation we witnessed with Faye, but it’s me instead of her. Other times it’s a phone call, and it just rings because I won’t answer it…”

Buck hummed, his hand lifting to duck into the inside pocket of his jacket, busying himself with tugging out a fresh toothpick, “Wonder what would happen if you did.” 

Frank turned her head to look at him in confusion. 

“Before my grandma died…” Buck cleared his throat, “when I was much younger, she would tell me to take control of my nightmares. That there wasn’t any reason why I couldn’t control something my own body was conjuring up. So, what if you answered it?” 

Frank lifted a shoulder, “I think I’m afraid of what’s going to be on the other end.” 

“Fear’s worse than anything,” Buck shook his head, “for me, that’s the worst part. If you pick up the phone, you’ll know, and you won’t have to wonder anymore.”

Frank was silent for several long seconds, slowly processing Buck’s words as she stared out at the field, eyes taking in the women who were moving the cattle down to a different pasture. She could almost hear the ringing now, the shrill sound of their dormitory’s phone going on and on. If she stood there long enough, a few of the girls would come and tell her to answer the phone, but despite the nightmare feeling as if it was going on for hours, she only remained stuck in her spot, unable to move as the fear paralyzed her, knowing that nothing on the other end of that phone could be good. 

She wasn’t sure she could control the dream, it seemed every time she woke up in a cold sweat that it was pretty uncontrollable, but she would give it a try next time. Or at least consider it. “I appreciate you talking to me, Buck.” 

“Always happy to,” Buck nodded to their left and Frank turned to see Bucky step out of the hut he disappeared into not long ago, his eyes looking around to find them and when he did she watched him start in their direction, “that fella right there is a lot to handle, Lord knows we both needed someone to talk to about ‘hm.” 

“Talking about me?” Frank couldn’t help but chuckle as Bucky approached, his eyes flickering back and forth between them, as if he could feel some of the heaviness from their previous conversation, but she was happy he didn’t say anything about it. Bucky was more than capable of reading a room, or in this case, the area, and she was thankful he let it go. 

“Buck wanted to know if you sleep in that jacket,” her hand lifted to brush along the edge of his sheepskin jacket, Buck half laughing, half choking at her words. 

Bucky’s hand lifted to cup her chin, his eyes searching hers for anything amiss before he agreed to play along, looking sideways towards his best friend, “Buck—if you wanna know what I do in bed, all you gotta do is ask…” 

“No,” Buck waved his hand in the air, shaking his head. “No—no. No. Trust me, I already know too much.” 

Bucky’s hand slipped to the back of Frank’s neck, thumb stroking the skin soothingly as he turned to look at her, “He tried to snuggle me once in training, you know.” 

“That’s not how I remember that going—“ 

“You two are adorable,” Frank leaned into Bucky’s touch and he winked at her playfully, glad to see a smile across her face.

“Don’t go puttin’ anything in anyone’s head, now.” Buck shook his head, but she could hear the teasing note in his voice, “Harding already thinks we’re an old married couple.” 

“Yes, dear.” Bucky gave him an air kiss and Buck rolled his eyes as he moved away. Frank felt Bucky’s arm drape over her shoulder as they walked behind Buck, “Good?” 

Frank nodded, enjoying the weight and warmth of Bucky’s arm as their English sky turned just a little more gray, the wind ruffling her hair slightly, “Good.” 

They found Curt Biddick and Benny DeMarco easily, which meant that Rose wasn’t too far away, the ATA pilot squatted down on her haunches as she petted a very excited Meatball. His head lulled to the side, as if seeking out more pets when she lifted her hands and Frank chuckled when his massive, fluffy tail thumped against the ground. 

“I should have known,” Frank moved towards her friend, leaving Buck and Bucky with the boys, “I knew you’d find Meatball.” 

“He’s so soft,” Rose carded her fingers through his thick, white hair, “Amelia wasn’t joking. I’m pretty sure he’s the softest dog I’ve ever felt. Benny says he’s part wolf, but he’s just so sweet!”

“He is very sweet,” Frank stroked the underside of his chin and both girls laughed when his ears went back, head tilted up as he thoroughly enjoyed the attention, tongue rolling out. “And a very good boy, huh, Meatball?” 

The dog nudged her hand before licking it and they both giggled, “Amelia’s crazy,” Rose said under her breath, “I’d happily throw Bernard a fuck to keep petting Meatball. It’s not like he’s ugly or anything, he’s exactly her type.” 

“Amelia’s type is anyone taller than her,” Frank shifted in her squatting position, her muscles still a little sore from her previous workouts last night and this morning, “speaking of…” 

“Just know,” Rose shot her a pointed look, “height isn’t everything.” 

“Good night, then?” 

“You have no idea,” Rose rubbed her hands up and down Meatball’s back, scratching under his harness, “I should be thanking you.” 

“There’s really no need…” 

“What that man can do with his tongue…” Rose shook her head and Frank snorted, “Frank, I’ve never—” 

“Should we be concerned about the whispers?” The girls looked towards the men, Bucky grinning widely as he watched them, “Better not be thinking of how to take Meatball to Ratcliffe…” 

“Nothing like that,” Frank assured them as she got to her feet, dusting off her pants as Rose followed, Meatball jumping up with them. 

“Just discussing our veggies,” Rose patted Meatball’s head as the girls joined the boys, the massive dog waltzing beside them, “Do you have a favorite, Major?” 

“Don’t answer that,” Frank shot Rose a look and the boys chuckled, “She’s got a fascination with vegetables. It’s best to ignore her.” 

“I think we’ll have squash at lunch…” Curt glanced in the direction of the mess, “if you’re hungry.” 

“I had so much yellow squash last night,” Rose shook her head and Frank stumbled as she reached Bucky, his hand coming out to steady her, eyes trained on her as he squeezed her arm, “it’s my favorite.” 

Frank hung back with Bucky as their group moved forward, Curt pointing out a few of the huts as he continued Rose’s tour of the base. Buck moved with them, glancing over his shoulder at Frank and Bucky, giving them a few moments together as he and DeMarco walked behind Curt and Rose. 

“Why does something tell me she’s not talking about actual vegetables anymore?” 

Frank only shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed, “I was hoping if I ignored her long enough, she’d stop.” 

Bucky snorted, his fingers tangling with hers loosely for a few seconds as they moved to catch up with their group, his promise to Lemmons yesterday echoing in his brain despite how he very much wanted to kiss Frank, his lips already missing the way hers felt against his, “Something tells me Rose isn’t quite the type to just stop…” 

Frank shot him a look and he grinned at her, “You have no idea, Major.” 

---

“And then the way he just manhandled me on top of the dresser, Frank…” 

“I think we’re here,” Bucky’s voice was a little higher than normal as he pulled up in front of the train station and Frank had never scrambled out of the jeep so fast, a half smile on her face as Bucky rounded the front of the truck, his cheeks tinted just a little as he tugged his hat off, raking his fingers through his curls. “Do I look like I’m sweating?”

“Just a little,” Frank lifted her hand to smooth down his tie, glancing to the left as Rose climbed out of the jeep, her bag landing on the ground with a thud before she lifted Frank’s up and out to land beside her. 

“Don’t take too long,” Rose lifted her bag up, tossing it over her shoulder, fingers wrapped around the handles, “Major, always the pleasure.”

“Rose,” Bucky nodded back to her, “try not to get into any trouble on the way back.”

“No promises,” Rose lifted her hand before she disappeared inside the smaller building, leaving the two alone just outside the doors.  

“I learned a lot of things on the drive here,” Bucky pulled his hands from his pockets, sliding them around Frank’s waist as he pulled her towards him, “things I probably didn’t ever need to know about Curt Biddick.”

“You’ll have to tell me what he says later,” Frank rested her hands on his shoulders, “he looked happy when they said goodbye.”

“After what I heard on the drive over here, I’d say it’s basically Christmas morning for Curt,” Bucky grinned and Frank laughed, “I’m glad Buck didn’t come with us…”

“The poor guy,” Frank scratched at the back of his neck, “he would’ve walked back. Brady said he was as red as a tomato during breakfast…”

“Oh, no doubt.” he pressed his forehead to hers lightly, “Have a good trip back, alright? Hopefully Rose doesn’t fog up the windows too much when she tells you all the gory details…”

“I’ll try,” Frank smiled back, “let me know if you hear about tomorrow…”

“I will,” Bucky lifted his hand to brush his thumb along her cheek, “be good.”

“No promises,” Frank pressed a lingering kiss to his mouth before she took a step away, knowing that if she didn’t, she wouldn’t, her hand reaching behind her to lace her fingers with Bucky’s before she wiggled her eyebrows, “I might be back sooner than later, but we’ll see. Dorothy mentioned that I might get to fly one of the new and improved bombers from the factory…rumor has it there’s a new tail gun position…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bucky pulled her back, bringing her into his chest as he grinned down at her, “you can’t just talk plane to me and then walk away…”

Frank laughed, accepting a kiss from him before they parted again. “Fly safely, Major,” she squeezed their clasped hands before she released his, “I’ll see you on the tarmac.”

Bucky’s smile only widened out, watching as Frank picked up her bag before moving towards the doors, “I look forward to it, Captain.”

Notes:

Thank you all for reading!! It means so much that you all are and enjoying Frank and Bucky's story! This chapter was a bit slower, but we'll be back next chapter with more from our ATA girls, the rumblings of some drama, and a letter from Bucky's mother!

 

(If you can't wait for the next chapter, you should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here! You can also read Bucky’s letter to his mother, as well as other deleted scenes to be posted soon!)

Chapter 25: XXV

XXV.

"I am ready for a drink and a cigarette.”

Frank rolled her eyes playfully, adjusting the waistband of her trousers as she and Rose walked through the door of one of the local pubs just a few miles from their base. The train ride wasn't terribly long, but the bus ride from the station to the base was less than comfortable, a growing soreness that radiated from Frank’s lower back making her wince as they squeezed past a few of the taller pub tables on their way further into the building. “You’re always ready for a drink and a cigarette, Rose.”

“But especially tonight,” Rose lifted a hand to a few familiar faces, a mixture of ATA pilots and RAF pilots filling the space, a sea of blue uniforms filling tables and corners to their left and right. “Oh, I think I see Dot…”

Frank spotted their friend near one of the furthest tables, a half-smoked cigarette resting between her index and middle finger. In true Dorothy fashion, the cigarette balanced perfectly in the middle of her fingers, their commanding officer holding it as far away from the tip as possible. It was something Frank noticed early on, always finding it strange that Dorothy would hold it towards the filter rather than in the middle, but had never bothered to ask about it before. Amelia wasn’t too far away, one hand resting on the back of a chair as she spoke with a pilot in an ATA uniform, eyes glued to his face as he held her attention with what must a riveting story. 

“You made it,” Dorothy ashed the cigarette just as they weaved their way over, Rose reaching for it as soon as she plopped down into the chair beside her. “No—get your own.”

“Dot, please,” Rose held her hand out and Dorothy only narrowed her eyes, “I’ve been stuck on a smelly bus for like…an hour while we waited for a cow to figure out how to cross the road. I need a cigarette.”

“She left her pack in East Anglia,” Frank pulled out a chair across from Dorothy, looking over at Amelia as she shifted just a little closer to the pilot she was talking with, “along with her underwear, so she’s desperate.”

“Speaking of cows…” Rose shot Frank an unamused look “This one’s been bumming off of me all trip, please?”

Dorothy handed it over wordlessly before looking at Frank, “How was your mini-holiday? Miss us?”

“Always,” Frank leaned back in her chair, throwing a glance over her shoulder at the bar to see how busy it was and if she wanted to get up or not, “I hope you were able to manage without us.”

“It was quiet,” Dorothy reached for her cocktail, sipping it slowly, “but I didn’t have to worry about anything nefarious for a handful of hours. You’ve both got a full schedule tomorrow, so don’t even think about having more than a few drinks tonight…I won’t be kind in the morning.”

Frank snorted and Rose grunted, hand moving to rub between her eyebrows, “You don’t have anything to worry about, trust me. I think my stomach is still sloshing with alcohol from last night.”

“Did you have a good time?” Dorothy watched Rose take a lengthy drag from the cigarette, smoke slowly filtering from her nose a few moments later, “Were you able to properly meet the Major?”

“Oh yes,” Rose nodded, waving her hand briefly in Frank’s direction, “she’s as good as engaged, from what I’ve seen. He’s completely wrapped around her finger.” Shifting her attention briefly from Dorothy to Frank, Rose lowered her voice in a stage whisper, “I fully expect to be a bridesmaid, just so you know.”

“I think I’ll just enjoy the present,” was Frank’s only reply.

Rose only hummed, eyes turning back to Dorothy, “You’ve got nothing to worry about. He kisses the ground she walks on. She could probably kick him in the pecker and he’d say thank you. Calls her angel and everything…”

Frank scoffed, head tilting back dramatically as she stared up at the ceiling, “Rose…”

“That’s sweet,” Dorothy was half teasing, half serious, a smile across her face, “I look forward to seeing him again and finding out just how wrapped around your finger he actually is.” She placed her glass back on the table before looking Rose over, “What about you? Am I going to have to deal with multiple calls from Major Kidd about who’s ferrying his planes now? And who has your knickers?”

“No,” Rose shook her head, “I mean—I had a spectacular night, don’t get me wrong. Curtis has a magical tongue, and I’ve never gone for a ride on someone’s face before. Would love to repeat it, but it’s nothing more than that. The flights are all Frank’s. I’ll just tag along when the schedule permits or if I’m feeling like I need a good ride.”

“Charming. Thank you for that vivid visual, Rose.” Dorothy squeezed her eyes closed before looking at Frank, “Say something to get that image out of my head, please. Anything.”

Frank nodded her head towards Amelia and the pilot, “What’s happening there?”

“I’m not sure,” Dorothy glanced in the direction, “he walked up about ten minutes ago to have a chat. I thought she’d send him packing like she usually does, but she accepted his offer for a drink and they’ve been talking ever since.”

“Interesting.”

“DeMarco is very attractive,” Rose shifted forward in her seat as she inhaled from the cigarette, smoke blowing across the table as she spoke, “I don’t know why she isn’t interested in his advances. He’s more of a looker than this guy…”

“Perhaps it’s not all about looks,” Dorothy said, waving her hand in the air to help the smoke dissipate, “maybe he’s got something she’s interested in.”

Frank had to cover her mouth when Rose leaned back in her chair to look around Dorothy, eyeing the man in uniform in front of Amelia, her friend’s eyes scrutinizing him like she would an aircraft during her pre-flight inspection, “I highly doubt it.”

Frank shook her head, shoulders shaking as Dorothy only sipped her drink slowly, “Well, it was a quiet evening…”

“You miss and love us, I know it.” Rose leaned over to tap her knuckle against Dorothy’s glass, “What are you drinking? I’ll get the next round.”

“A sidecar,” Dorothy said, “please and thank you.”

“Frank?”

“Martini.” She glanced over at Dorothy, “Do you have another or…?”

Dorothy shook her head, “No, Rose took my last one.”

“I’ll see if I can talk my way into one at the bar for you,” Rose inhaled pointedly before she left the girls at the table.

“Rose seems in better spirits,” Dorothy finished her drink, elbow moving to rest on the table. 

“I think she’s well on her way to—” Frank’s sentence cut off, her eyes focusing on the cigarette that was placed in front of her face, following the fingers and hand until she landed on George Davidson’s face. 

“Did I overhear you looking for a cigarette?”

“George,” Dorothy greeted the man happily, motioning for him to take a seat as Frank took it from his fingers, “How are you? I haven’t seen you in a few weeks…”

“Doing well,” George adjusted his chair and Frank took the lighter Dorothy had resting on the table, busying herself with lighting the cigarette as the two greeted one another. “Just got back from a few flights to France. Hoping to put in for some leave soon.”

“Any special plans?”

“None yet, still weighing my options. Could go visit mother in the country, but I might fancy a trip over to London...” George shook his head a moment later, changing the topic in a way that George always did when it got too close to his personal life. “I’ve heard quite a few American ships have sank in the Pacific this week…”

“I saw the headlines,” Dorothy nodded, “terrible losses, I’m sure.”

“No doubt.” George finished adjusting himself in his chair, glancing over at Frank, “How’s your love nest in Thorpe Abbotts going?”

Frank exhaled a stream of smoke, eyes narrowing, “You used to be my favorite, George.”

George laughed at that, sending a conspiring wink towards Dorothy as she finished the rest of her drink, “I had to try. Rose put me up to it the other night, I’m only sorry I didn’t get to meet the gentleman myself. Rose says his name is Bucky?”

“That’s his nickname.” Frank didn’t offer any further information and Dorothy and George both exchanged another knowing glance. 

“George!” Frank and George both turned to see Rose approaching with their drinks, the tray landing roughly on the table as Rose excitedly rounded the space to hug George, “How are you? I didn’t think we’d see you back before August!”

“Change of plans, darling,” George released Rose before she moved back to her side of the table, Dorothy passing her a drink as Frank reached for hers.

“Do you want a drink?”

“No—no,” George waved his hand, “no drinking tonight. But thank you.” His eyes shifted to look in the direction of Amelia, an eyebrow raised before eyeing Dorothy, “Who’s that?” 

“He’s new,” Dorothy’s voice lowered so as not to disturb the couple, “was assigned to Ratcliffe last week. You’d probably get on, he flew with the USAAF in the pacific until he was injured. I don’t know much more about him, he’s not my responsibility.” 

George laughed and Frank watched him closely, noting the way his smile didn’t quite reach as high as it typically did, but the moment was gone just as quickly as it came, Rose finishing up Dorothy’s cigarette before leaving it in the ashtray, “How are things in France, George?” 

“Terrible as ever,” George shook his head, “from first glance, especially in Paris, it doesn’t appear much different. The arts are still flourishing and the Nazi’s are doing everything they can to win their hearts with praise. I overheard the last time I was there that the Herrenvolk plan for it to be their holiday retreat. They’ve become rather fond of Paris.” 

“Herrenvolk?” Rose sipped her drink. 

“Master race,” Frank said quietly as she lifted her own glass to her lips to take a lengthy sip. 

“How awful,” Rose’s face scrunched up as Dorothy stroked the stem of her glass with her finger absentmindedly, eyebrows drawn together in deep thought, “I can’t imagine what it would be like living in France right now. How frightening that would be.” 

“They’ve rounded up most of the able bodied men for STO,” George nodded slowly, his voice dropping just a little to keep their conversation private, “so many are now in factories across Germany.”

Dorothy shook her head and Frank ashed her cigarette, eyes flickering from George to her best friend, “Everytime I think we’re making progress I read about the number of people being rounded up and—”

“We cannot lose hope, Dorothy,” George shook his head. “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” 

A heavy silence settled across the table before Rose placed her drink back down, eyebrows raised in surprise as she thought over the words again, “That’s beautiful, George.” 

“It should be,” George lifted the corner of his mouth, “Victor Hugo wrote it.” 

Frank snorted as Dorothy rolled her eyes playfully, but despite their friends’ light hearted response, the meaning was effective. They would drive out the darkness one day at a time. One plane, ferry, or taxi at a time. 

“Amelia!” George called a few moments later, after the heaviness had settled and the conversation lulled, “Come join us, love. Bring your gentleman friend.” 

Frank may have laughed if Amelia hadn’t looked so stricken, her eyes wide as she stared back at the table over the man’s shoulder. The man, who Frank did have to admit had an attractive face, turned to look at them as well. Slowly, Amelia turned and motioned for her new friend to join them, her eyes catching first Frank’s and then Rose’s and while no words were exchanged Frank heard Amelia’s warning to behave loud and clear: Do not make a scene.

“George,” Amelia squeezed his shoulder before she and the pilot crowded around the table, taking the empty chairs, “always wonderful to see you. How is the rest of Europe?”

“Oh you know,” George sent her a wink and Amelia rolled her eyes playfully, “horrible. How is your evening, ‘Melia?”

“Fine,” Amelia pushed a bit of hair off her forehead, her drink now resting on the table as the man she was speaking with leaned back in his chair, both Frank and Rose watching as he rested his arm along the back of Amelia’s, their friend glancing over her shoulder at the appendage before looking back to her friends. “It was a day of paperwork, so I’m ready for an easier one tomorrow.”

“Who is your friend?” Rose leaned forward in her seat, craning her neck to look around Dorothy at the new arrivals, their friend clearly not interested in Amelia’s day. “Introduce us, don’t be rude…”

“I was answering George first.” Frank watched Amelia’s jaw tighten just a little, her eyes shifting back and forth between the two girls as she waited to see what was about to happen. Amelia enjoyed hustling the new pilots at darts, and she enjoyed having a drink or two paid for by some of the ones who could handle losing to a woman, but Frank wasn’t sure she had ever seen Amelia allow one to get this close to her without them already being on their way out for an evening alone. “This is James King,” she motioned towards the man who nodded to them all, “he’s one of our newest ferry pilots. James, this is Dorothy, Rose, George, and Frank.” 

“Nice to meet you all,” the man had an accent Frank couldn’t place, her head tilting as she tried to figure out where up north he was from, his eyes shifting to glance towards Frank, “Is that your first name?”

Frank shook her head no, glancing over to see George shifting ever so slightly in his chair. After inhaling a lengthy drag from her cigarette, the end glowing orange briefly, she finally replied, “No,” but didn’t bother with any further explanation. 

“Where are you from?” Rose asked, “You just arrived?”

“Maine,” James nodded, moving to tug at the hem of his jacket as he shifted in his chair, attention turning to Rose, “I’ve been going through training for a while now, but they finally signed off and assigned me to a base. Just got here with the new crew…”

“And you just met Amelia?” Rose glanced between the two and Frank was glad she wasn’t the only one a little confused. 

“This morning,” James looked over at Amelia as she rested her chin in her hand, her own eyes shifting to look at him as he reached over to brush his thumb across her upper arm, “I bumped into her on my way to the airfield after breakfast this morning. Spilled my coffee all over her and offered to buy her a drink tonight to make up for it.”

“What made you join the ATA?” George asked, watching just as intently as the others as both Amelia and James exchanged a long look. 

“I was with the USAAF, originally. The Fifth Air Force.” James said, his fingers gliding along his glass as he spoke, “We crash landed just outside of Port Moresby and I broke my ankle pretty badly.”

“What’d you fly?” Rose reached for the stem of her glass, her eyes not leaving James. 

“B-24s, primarily.”

“They flew through a Hurricane,” Amelia cut in, reaching for her own drink to take a sip from, and Frank didn’t miss the way her eyes sparkled. 

“A hurricane?” Dorothy’s eyebrows rose dramatically and Frank had to keep from choking on her martini at the look of horror on her CO’s face. “Surely not?”

“A tropical storm,” James shook his head, an easy smile across his face as Amelia shrugged, her own cheeks tinting slightly, “on our flight from the states we managed to fly directly into a tropical storm near Oahu. I think that’s probably the most fear I’ve ever felt while flying.”

“I can imagine so,” Dorothy shook her head slowly, “I’m surprised you made it through, honestly.”

“It was touch and go for a bit,” James nodded, “It was hard to see where the water started and stopped, but eventually we found a pocket and made it through. Not something I’d ever want to experience again. When we did eventually land, we had used up so much fuel that we couldn’t even taxi off the runway!”

“Oh great heavens,” George shook his head, chuckling softly as Rose snorted, “your entire crew was probably ready for a well deserved drink that evening.”

“You can say that again,” James laughed softly, “but I’m glad to be over here now and still helping the war effort in any way I can.”

“George was one of the founders of British Airways,” Amelia explained as she lifted a finger in George's direction, “and he flew with the RAF until he was injured and lost his arm. I'm sure you two have quite a bit in common...”

“Didn’t quite lose it,” George motioned to the bit of sleeve hanging in the air and Frank couldn’t help but chuckle, “they very well took it from me kicking and screaming. Turns out, I don't need it—I guess I had to give all the other pilots out there a chance to fly.”

“How considerate of you, Georgie,” Rose tapped the back of his hand with her glass, “thank you for allowing us to fly in your presence.”

George ducked his head playfully, “You’re most welcome, Lady Phillips.”

“Are you all ferry pilots?” James seemed to take in George and Dorothy’s uniforms as he asked, but he hesitated with Rose and Frank, neither in anything that immediately identified them as pilots or part of the ATA. 

“Yes. I usually fly Fairchilds and Barracudas, and most of the time I’m ferrying RAF pilots from base to base as needed,” Rose said, nodding towards Frank, “Dorothy is our CO and Frank flies the big boys.”

“B-17s,” Amelia explained when James tilted his head curiously, “we typically require a pilot and engineer when ferrying them, but since we’ve been so short-handed and we’ve taken over some of the American bases, Frank has special permission to fly the fortresses solo.”

“I think there’s only a handful of pilots who can fly them solo,” Rose chimed in and Frank rolled her eyes, sending Rose a sideways look. “So if you ever want to get to that point, you’ll need to watch how she does it.”

James seemed to slowly take in Rose's words as he studied Frank, “I’ll have to do that.”

“Frank is our darling,” George reached for Frank’s shoulder with his good hand but she shrugged him off, swatting his hand away when he grinned playfully at her, “you’ll have to watch out for her fiancé, though.”

Amelia’s jaw dropped comically and Rose full on choked on her drink, shaking her head back and forth as she tried to catch her breath and keep from bursting out laughing. Amelia gasped as she reached for Frank’s left hand, eyes wide as she searched for the tell-tale ring, “Bucky proposed?! Already?”

“No,” Frank ripped her hand away from Amelia’s, sending both George and Rose a dirty and unamused look, “you’re all crazy. No—absolutely not. No.”

James gave Amelia’s shoulder a comforting squeeze as she pouted, her face falling, “I was so excited for you…”

“You can still be excited,” Frank lifted a shoulder, “but there’s no ring—no proposal. No.”

“Frank’s a little oblivious,” Rose stage whispered and Dorothy hid her smile behind her glass as Frank lifted her eyes upwards, “but she’s got a fella a few hundred miles over who thinks she placed the stars.”

“Can we stop discussing this?” Frank pushed herself away from the table and Dorothy lifted her head, the lightheartedness melting off her face when she realized Frank was actually upset, the brunette moving to stub out her cigarette, “We have a good time, I care for him, and that’s it, ok? I don’t want to hear anymore about weddings or—or anything else that goes along with that. Alright?”

Rose and Amelia exchanged worried glances and Dorothy moved to stand but George waved her off, pushing his chair out to follow after Frank, weaving his way around the groups of people and tables to exit the pub. It was chilly now that the sun was setting, the orange just barely kissing the horizon as the night sky darkened overhead. “Frank…” George pushed open the door to the pub when he realized the Captain wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon. 

“Go back inside, George.”

“Frank—”

Frank continued to walk but found herself stopping as George called her first name, her head tilting as she glanced over her shoulder, watching as the older man approached, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes darker, “We were only having fun, darling. I apologize if anything I said crossed the line. None of us expect you to be married and pregnant already, ok?”

Frank only nodded wordlessly. 

“Talk to me about it,” George slipped his arm over her shoulders, moving with her in the direction of Ratcliffe, the outskirts of the RAF base thankfully not at all far from the pub, “what’s got you so hot on this subject?”

Frank shook her head again, feeling the back of her eyes sting with tears as George squeezed her shoulders comfortingly, giving her the space she needed, “I’ve been married before and I’m not exactly eager to make that mistake again, George.”

“I see,” George nodded slowly, “I remember Rose implying something months ago, I just never realized it wasn’t a…widow situation.”

“No,” Frank ran her hands across her forearms, eyes cloudy with tears, “no. It was the only way I could get out…”

“I’m not here to judge your decisions, Stella,” George shook his head, “I’m just here to apologize for my carelessness. And anything you’ve done to get you here with us is definitely ok in my book.”

Frank snorted and George squeezed her shoulders again, “I think you’re probably the only one who thinks that.”

“I’m most certainly not,” George said. “All the girls, if they know, must think it too. I’m sure your major is very glad of the choices you made as well.”

Frank only hummed, her eyes still turned down to stare at her shoes. 

After several long seconds of silence fell and Frank watched the RAF Ratcliffe sign come into view, did George drop his arm from her shoulder and stop, causing her to turn and look at him, “It’s alright to be gentle with yourself, Stella,” he said, eyes searching her face, “and it’s ok to forgive yourself and accept that you made the best decision in the moment that you could have made.”

Frank inhaled deeply, her eyes lifting upwards to try to keep the tears at bay, her chest hurting with how tightly she was holding her breath, “I’m worried he’s going to think I’ll do the same to him,” she whispered softly, so quietly George could barely hear her. “And I don’t—I don’t want to talk about marriage or anything like that, because I don’t want to be married again, I don’t want to be owned again or—or forced to be something I’m not. I just found a life that makes me happy and—and he makes me happy too, but I don’t see why I can’t have both.”

“You can,” George said, “I promise, Frank. It’s all in good fun. No one expects you to be engaged by now and I think if you even suggested it, Dorothy would feint before tying you to a chair for a good talking to. No one is serious about it, we just know you don’t typically get this attached, and we’re enjoying this new moment with you.”

“They don’t?”

“No, darling,” George couldn’t help but laugh, pulling her by her elbow into his arm, hugging her tightly, “heavens no. Queen Elizabeth ruled without a husband, if it’s good enough for her, it’ll do just fine for you.”

Frank laughed at that, shaking her head, “I think that’s hardly an accurate comparison.”

“Agree to disagree, then.” George and Frank began walking back towards the base, George’s arm around her for comfort as Frank exhaled raggedly. 

Frank was lost in thought the entire walk into Ratcliffe, trying to figure out what she was feeling and why she was so tightly wound right now, her shoulders feeling stiff and her neck tight, and just as she was looking forward to taking the hottest shower she possibly could, did they arrive at the dorms. “Thank you for walking me,” Frank said softly, George nodding slowly as they paused outside the doors, “I didn’t mean to ruin your night…”

“Nonsense,” George scoffed, “I’m happy to get away from Cadet Hurricane. I expect a full report from you and Rose the next time I see you. Amelia lovestruck has me concerned.”

Frank laughed at that, “I’ll keep an eye and make sure she keeps two feet on the ground.”

“I don’t doubt it,” George took a step back, his eyebrows lifting in seriousness, “remember to be kind to yourself. We’re at war and tensions are higher than ever and I’d imagine it’s only going to increase more.”

Frank nodded and George sent her a friendly wink, motioning towards the buildings behind him, “I’m off for a while after this, so keep an eye on things around here for me. Be smart—keep your head up, and I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon.”

Frank wasn’t at all sure what he meant but she nodded anyway, moving towards the door as George faded into the dark, the sun now fully set over Leicester.

Notes:

I'm so sorry for the delay! Things have been just a tad busy, and I've been going through a few more doctor appointments. I did get good news about my procedure a few weeks ago, everything looked great and nothing of concern. However, my blood work is still showing some lower numbers than we'd like, so I'll be going in for a second procedure on Tuesday to hopefully rule out some scarier things. I'm pretty nervous about it, so I appreciate any and all good thoughts and vibes that you have to offer!

Thank you all for reading and sticking with me! I'm excited to get further into Frank's story as we move further along in the MOTA storyline!

Chapter 26: XXVI

XXVI.

Bucky could feel his entire body shaking, his hands nearly vibrating as he threw back the shot handed to him, the familiar liquid burning his sinuses as it slid down. His throat was raw, but it was a welcome feeling, briefly numbing the adrenaline his body was currently running on, numbing the memories of what just happened up in the air. He sat through interrogation as best he could, sweat coating his head, neck, and back, his jacket heavy, and despite feeling all too warm for the hut, he kept it drawn over his shoulders, the adrenaline chills keeping him from shedding it.  

His medical check up went by just as quickly, partly because he insisted he was fine, and partly because he didn’t have any identifying marks or blood to keep him for observation. He felt Buck’s hand on his shoulder while the doctor did a quick look over, squeezing it when he stood to leave, his best friend’s eyes filled with concern and relief as Bucky staggered into their quarters not long after. His hat landed on the neat bedspread first, his heavy jacket falling beside it a moment later before he unbuttoned his jacket and slid that off. One of his shirt sleeves was missing, the ripped and jagged edges along his bicep revealed his bare skin and Buck only watched quietly as he pulled on a fresh shirt, tossing the shredded one off to the side. 

“Was my good shirt, too,” Bucky commented weakly after several long minutes of silence passed, the two still the only ones inside the hut. “My lucky shirt—the one I met Stella in.”

“There’s no such thing as luck, John.”

“Says the man who kisses his girl’s photo before every take off,” Bucky shot him a sideways look as he tucked his shirt into his pants, lifting his hands to run them through his damp curls when he was done. “Did you call her?” 

“She’s flying,” Buck adjusted his jacket as he looked at his friend.

Bucky glanced down at his watch. “I’ll call her in a bit. She probably won’t be back for a while longer.” 

“How’d you lose the sleeve anyway?” 

“Long story,” Bucky grinned playfully, the pilot slowly starting to feel like himself again as the stress and adrenaline started to wear off just a bit more, “Shay’s oxygen was disconnected, I noticed him dangling. When I finally got him reconnected, the bastard turned on the turret as he came to and we were both just about ground beef.” 

Buck snorted at that, shaking his head as he reached into the inside pocket of his uniformed jacket, fingers grasping the envelope before he pulled it out. “Only you, John. Only you. Mail came while you were up, by the way.” 

Bucky could feel a different kind of anxiety bubble in his stomach as he stared at the letter, his hands sliding along his hips, as he inhaled deeply, shoulders rising and falling, “From Ma?” 

Buck extended his arm, handing him the letter, and Bucky reached out to grab it, his heart warming at seeing his mother’s familiar writing along the front. He hesitated as he thumbed the back of it, his nail sliding under the glued edge. Part of him was concerned his mother would be worried. Him meeting someone was definitely something none of them probably expected him to do, hell, he didn’t even expect it himself, and then him writing about that someone was probably even more shocking. He could only imagine the scenarios his mother had managed to conjure up in the time since his letter arrived. He broke the rest of the seal, fingers turning the envelope over before he tugged out the trifold letter. 

His mother’s writing filled the page, her looped style of writing comfortingly familiar while also striking a bit of homesickness in his stomach, all of the emotions from the day starting to get to him. Bucky brushed his thumb along the ink, feeling the texture of the paper before he focused on the writing: 

June 28th, 1943

My Dearest Son,

I hope this letter finds you well. Every day, I pray for your safety and the swift end to this terrible war. Your letters, although few, bring me equal relief and worry, I treasure every word you write. We held a small celebration of life for your father last week. It was quiet, just close friends and family, both of your sisters attended and even Lowell managed to get a weekend of leave to come up from Arkansas—he sends his greetings back. We shared stories all evening about your father, there was much more laughter than tears this year, and for that I’m thankful. He would be so proud of you, John, and I know he’s watching over you. I wish you could have been there with all of us, but I know you’re doing everything you can to keep our world as safe as it can be. 

What awful weather! You know how I dread the rain! The snow is bad enough here, weeks of it coating the ground and making everything so cold and dark for months at a time! You probably don’t know if it snows there yet, but all that talk of rain makes me shiver, and the mud! Please tell me you’re making sure to wipe your shoes well, I cannot have a son tracking in mud all the way across the Atlantic. Tell Gale I say hello, I think of him often and we include him in our weekly prayer circle. His name is printed on the back of the newsletter each month on a list of soldiers to pray for. He’s right above your name, so I find him easily. Is he doing alright? I know you mentioned he only has his lovely girl to write to, I’d be happy to have some of the older ladies write to him if you think he’d enjoy it. It would give them something to do and him something to read at the very least. 

“Mom says hi,” Bucky turned the page over to continue reading, Buck humming in the background. 

Speaking of lovely girls. You must tell me my future daughter in law’s name right this moment, Johnnie! How dare you write to me and tell me you’ve fallen in love but not give me any information about her. I’m over here trying to picture my son and this wonderful young lady, but all you’ve told me is that she’s from Texas! How is a mother supposed to dream and think of her only son’s wedding if you don’t give me any information? What is her name? Her family’s name? Have you proposed to her? How did you meet her? What’s she like? Is she religious?

John, the list of questions I have for you grows by the day. You cannot tell me you’ve fallen in love and then not say anything else. I’ve read your letter at least a dozen times, your sisters have read it, I even showed Marcy down the way and we’re all in agreement that you are terrible at giving information. Frances thinks you did it on purpose. For the sake of my old heart, promise me you fly better than you give details, John. I worry so much about you over there. Everyday we see stories in the paper about crashes and POWs, it hurts my heart thinking about their families. Tell me everything about her, Johnnie. I mean it. You cannot string your mother on like this. If she makes you laugh in the midst of all this chaos and fear, I must know everything about her. I imagine she worries about you too, as I’m sure you worry for her. I will keep both of you in my thoughts and daily prayers. 

Frances left yesterday for England and now I have two children overseas. I’m not quite sure how to handle myself, especially with Eileen so far down south now, but I’m managing. I miss you so, Johnnie. I think of you often and I cannot wait until our family is reunited once more. Be safe. Be good.

All my love, 

Mother

“All’s well?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky lifted his arm, dragging the sleeve across his cheek to rid himself of the rouge tear that escaped his eyes, inhaling deeply as he continued to process his mother’s words, “Frannie’s comin’ over here. Ma said she might be heading to the Pacific a few letters ago, but I guess something changed. I’ll have to keep an eye out for her.”

“I’m not sure this island can handle two Egans,” Buck said as he sat down on the edge of his cot, watching his best friend attempt to settle himself. 

Bucky grinned, running a flat hand down his chest to straighten his uniform, “Wouldn’t it be somethin’ if she was stationed here?”

“Oh, that’d be somethin’ alright,” Buck chuckled as he plucked a fresh toothpick out of his case, “I’d give three dollars to watch that exchange when your girl comes flying in.”

Bucky seemed to hesitate, his eyes lifting upwards before he nodded slowly, shaking a finger in Buck’s direction as he thought over his previous statement, “When you’re right, you’re right. It’s better if she’s not assigned here. Can’t have…any of that gettin’ back to mom.”

---

Frank tilted her head back, eyes flickering across the English countryside as she made her way towards Ratcliffe, the familiar landscape and buildings coming into view as she expertly navigated her way back to base. She’d flown this path so many times, enough that she could probably do it with her eyes closed if she really wanted to. Frank flew the Hawker Hurricane, after ferrying a few RAF pilots from base to base throughout the day, she picked up a last minute maintenance ferry, the Hurricane due for its routine inspection before it would return to the skies over France and Germany. She enjoyed the Hurricanes, she didn’t fly them often and while the Spitfire would always have her heart, she loved working the slick controls, pretending that she was an actual fighter pilot instead of a glorified chauffeur. 

Memories of her day making small talk with the RAF pilots made her head ache just a little. They always asked the same questions, always wondered about her life in the states and if she had anyone waiting for her at home. Some of the bolder ones would ask if she was interested in staying the night on a different base or if she had a husband. Sometimes she’d speak in a broken French accent that would horrify Dorothy, just so she didn’t have to answer the questions, claiming she only spoke a little English. 

Taking her final arc around one of the larger farms just outside of Leicester, Frank came in for her final approach, lining herself up with the air strip as she worked to bring the fighter down to about a thousand feet, taking her time to check the gauges and adjust the flaps, slowly easing back on the throttle after confirming everything was behaving properly. The base came into view and Frank could make out the various trucks and hangers as she passed over the large farm house, and just as she was prepared to bring the plane down for a landing, something caught her eye. 

It was quick, faster than she expected, the massive black bird skirting around the cockpit before it darted right into the propeller’s path. The impact was instant and Frank felt her stomach leap into her throat as she hurried to stabilize the aircraft, the Hurricane shuddering violently as the propeller spun irregularly, no longer balanced correctly. Frank fought to maintain control as the entire plane began to vibrate, gravity starting to take over with each warped turn of the propeller. 

The Hurricane’s nose dipped and Frank swore loudly, hands scrambling to adjust the throttle and pitch, careful not to over-correct, the plane continuing to shimmy erratically, a terrible grinding sound filling the cockpit as the propeller hesitated. Frank gripped the yoke hard, forcing the plane to stay level as she flew closer to the air strip. She was close, but still far enough away that she couldn’t bring it down immediately, the plane dropping altitude just a little more dramatically than she would have liked. The Hurricane continued to dip and shake as she passed the outskirts of the base and Frank bit down hard on her tongue, her heart almost dropping to her feet when the propeller stuttered more, the plane falling about five feet. 

She lined up with the airstrip as best she could, the plane starting to become uncontrollable, wanting to bank to the right as she came in, preparing herself for what was probably about to be a really rough landing, the cross wind she was warned about at take off making it even more difficult to hit the runway and stay out of the grass. The handful of seconds between her bringing the plane down and it making contact with the runway felt like an eternity, Frank trying to keep it as stable as possible. 

She landed hard, the wheels skipping a few times, parts of the plane groaning and whining when it came in contact with the tarmac. Frank braced herself, doing everything she could to keep from being flung too far into the window from the amount of force she had to land the plane with, but even with her knees apart and her back pressed into her seat, her left shoulder ended up taking the brunt of her hit, smashing into the cockpit when she landed.

Frank wasn’t sure she experienced such a touch and go landing like this since training, her heart thundering against her ribcage as she continued to slow the plane down, taxiing it as best she could into its designated space, the plane really not wanting to do anything now that it’d been hit. When she finally stopped, Frank slid out of the cockpit and onto the waiting ground, breathing heavily, pushing as much oxygen through her nose as she could. The ground crew and engineers were already well on their way towards her and Frank stepped aside to let them do their job, fumbling with the strap under her chin to unclasp her helmet. She made it about halfway across the airfield, adrenaline running through her veins and causing her heart to continue racing when she spotted Rose standing near one of the hangers, dressed in her flight coveralls, the upper portion partially unbuttoned to reveal her uniform. 

“That looked like a hard landing,” Rose called out as Frank made a detour towards her friend, bag and helmet dangling from one hand, “you alright?”

“Bashed my shoulder,” Frank winced as she motioned towards it, the part of her body slowly starting to throb, “I think I just need to stretch it out. I caught a cross wind when I was starting to come down and then a fucking bird flew right into the prop.”

Rose made a face before she bid goodbye to the engineer she was chatting with, moving to join Frank at the mouth of the hanger, “I’m glad you were this close to base when it happened. Did it stall?”

“No, thankfully,” Frank shook her head, “she slowed but never stopped.” The girls moved further down the runway and Frank nodded towards the hanger where the shiny P-51 Mustang sat, “Did you fly that Mustang in?”

“I did,” Rose wiggled her eyebrows and Frank chuckled softly, “jealous?”

“How’d she handle?”

“Like a dream,” Rose’s smile was wide and Frank was glad to see it, her friend’s sparkle back, “she’s brand new. I could’ve made the jump to Liverpool, but they didn’t want to take any chances with her being so fresh. So, I’ll be flying her to her new home tomorrow. As long as I don’t annoy Dorothy between now and then, of course.”

“You?” Frank gasped in mock surprise and Rose rolled her eyes, “Annoy Dorothy? Never.”

“You’re such a cow.” Rose swatted her friend and Frank grinned, “Just for that I’m going to tell her you’re injured.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Frank narrowed her eyes while Rose only shrugged playfully. “If you want in the fortress again, you’ll forget I said anything.”

“We’ll see,” Rose only sing-songed as the girls approached the tower, both ready to turn in their flight logs and finish their day. 

They went through the familiar process easily, turning in their flight paths and notes, Frank making special mention of the bird incident before the girls left and made their way to the dorms. Frank sighed when her bed came into view, her bag landing haphazardly beside it as she slowly unbuttoned her coveralls, careful of putting too much stress on her shoulder. 

“Are we going down to the pub after dinner?” Rose asked. 

“I don’t think I’m going to,” Frank gently lifted her left arm, testing the waters to see how well she could move it, wincing when it pulled uncomfortably. 

“Going to call your beau?”

“Yeah and then try to rest,” she lifted her good hand to run along her shoulder, massaging the area in what she hoped would be a beneficial way, “I’m exhausted. Dorothy’s had me on a full schedule and I should have seen that bird before it happened…”

“Birds are chaotic, Frank,” Rose frowned, “you know that. Accidents happen.”

“Not in a fighter, they don’t,” Frank groaned when she tried to raise her arm over her head, not at all liking how it ached, “there have been too many close calls this week. Dorothy’s been spending too many late nights doing paperwork. Her head is going to explode when she reads about this…”

Rose stepped around the cots until she was beside Frank, hand running along her shoulder to eye it worriedly, not at all liking the way Frank couldn’t bring it higher, “How hard did you hit it?”

“Pretty hard,” Frank grunted when Rose tried to turn it around, “ow—ok, that’s enough stretching, I think. I’d like to keep my arm.”

“You need to have that looked at,” Rose took a step back, flopping down onto Frank’s cot, “If you fly with that tomorrow, Dot’s really going to explode…”

“I just need to rest it,” Frank unbuttoned the top of her uniform, biting down onto her tongue to keep her face from twisting into pain, “maybe get some ice.”

Rose only hummed, watching Frank attempt to look as if she wasn’t in pain, and it wasn’t until they were almost cleaned up that Dorothy came into the dormitories, a stack of paperwork tucked into a folder under one arm, “Evening, ladies.”

“Dot,” Rose watched Frank closely as Dorothy walked around them to her own bed, placing the folder onto her mattress, “busy day?”

“Yes, and I don’t think it’s over yet,” Dorothy shrugged off her jacket. “How were your flights?”

“The Mustang flies beautifully,” Rose leaned back on her hands, “sign me up for it anytime.”

“Noted,” Dorothy chuckled softly, “glad you enjoyed yourself. Frank? Not too many stops today?”

Frank shook her head no, holding her arm against her side in a way she hoped wasn’t suspicious, but based on the way Rose was eyeing her carefully, she knew it wasn’t as natural as she hoped. “No—it was a good day.”

Dorothy nodded, an awkward silence passing over them before she turned to look at the girls, eyebrows lifting as she looked at the way they both looked entirely too uncomfortable. “Everything ok?” Rose side-eyed Frank, and Dorothy turned her full attention to her best friend, “Everything going well in East Anglia?”

“I hope so.” Frank chewed on her lower lip, “Do you know something I don’t?”

“I don’t,” Dorothy’s eyes drifted across Frank’s body language, taking in the way Frank held onto her elbow. “What’s wrong with your arm?”

“Nothing—”

“Bird strike,” Rose pushed herself off the cot, ignoring the death glare Frank sent her way, “send her to medical—see you at dinner!”

“You had a bird strike?” Dorothy’s full attention was directly on Frank now as she exhaled in frustration, clearly she was wrong about being able to trust Rose to keep her mouth shut. 

“I don’t know where it came from,” Frank took a seat on the edge of her bed, sighing, “I’m assuming it didn’t make it…”

“No, I’d assume not,” Dorothy stepped closer, hovering over Frank as she ran her hand along her arm, “are you alright?”

“Fine, I just need to rest it.”

“Raise your hand.”

Frank lifted her hand, bending her arm at the elbow and Dorothy gave her an unimpressed look, pointing towards the lights above, “Reach up to the ceiling if you’re fine.”

Frank tilted her head back, exhaling as she attempted it, hardly able to move it above her chest before she was pulling it back into her body, “I’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Uh-huh,” Dorothy patted Frank’s leg before motioning her to stand, all but dragging Frank out of the dorms and back outside, “you’re going to get checked out. Now.”

“Dot—”

“Were you even going to tell me if Rose hadn’t mentioned it?” 

When Frank didn’t reply, Dorothy marched them quickly across the base, following behind her friend and commanding officer like a puppy who was just scolded for chewing up a shoe. They arrived at the infirmary quickly, the building not too far from the dorms. At this time of day, the Infirmary wasn’t terribly busy, but the strong smell of antiseptic filled their nostrils as the girls entered. One of the nurses quickly whisked them away to one of the empty beds, and if Frank concentrated hard enough, she could smell a faint, metallic scent of blood. 

Frank reached over to rest her hand along her upper arm, cradling it against her body as she sat down on the edge of the cot, feet firmly on the floor as if she were ready to get up and run at any moment. “Let’s take a look at the arm, Captain.” Frank didn't recognize the nurse from the handful of times she visited the infirmary, but didn’t think too much of it. They had a revolving door of pilots at the ATA, there was a good chance it was like that everywhere. 

They were at war, afterall. 

“What happened?”

“I’m fine—honestly.”

“She had a rough landing,” Dorothy cut in, hands resting on her hips where she stood at the end of the bed, eyes trained on Frank, as if she knew Frank wasn’t going to be an easy patient. “Knocked her shoulder into the side of the cockpit.”

“That does sound painful,” The nurse spoke with an American accent, her blue uniform not that different from their own, her hand running along Frank’s arm, confirming there was no open wounds or uncontrollable bleeding. “Let me grab Doctor Miller, he shouldn’t be too far…”

Dorothy thanked her softly before stepping closer to Frank, her face hard and unimpressed, “I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me. What were you thinking? You were just going to fly again tomorrow?”

“I was thinking that I would see how it felt in the morning,” Frank gritted out, wincing as she attempted to remove her outer layers, hoping to make it easier for the doctor to examine, “and if it still hurt, then I’d consider coming here.”

“You could hurt yourself further by flying injured.”

Frank tilted her head back, eyes closed as she focused on the sounds around her rather than Dorothy’s nagging, her shoulder really starting to ache from the overuse. “Captain Frank?”

Frank’s eyes opened immediately, taking in the middle-aged English doctor as he approached, “That’s me.”

“I’m Doctor Miller,” he nodded to Dorothy before moving his hands to tilt her head out of the way, examining her neck and collarbones first, “Nurse Frances tells me you’ve injured your arm?”

“Hard landing,” Frank allowed the Doctor to move her head and neck how he wanted, only minor waves of pain running to her shoulder, “I bashed it into the side. It’s just sore, I promise…”

“I let you fly the planes, Captain,” Doctor Miller released her face, giving her an easy smile, “let me examine the injured, hmm?” Frank sighed and Dorothy snorted as he motioned to her sleeve, “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

Frank pulled her shirt off, gritting her teeth hard to keep from showing too much pain, thanking the nurse softly when she helped ease the sleeve off her arm, leaving her in her uniform undershirt, arm bare. “It’s definitely swollen,” Doctor Miller ran his fingers along her upper arm and shoulder, carefully feeling around her shoulder blade, “how would you describe the pain? Dull? Or sharp?”

“Dull,” Frank forced her arm to go as limp as possible, letting the doctor check her range of motion, starting with her fingers and slowly working his way up her arm in bigger movements.

“Bare with me while I move your shoulder…”

Frank couldn’t keep the gasp back when the doctor raised her arm fully into the air, slowly maneuvering it in circles, testing to see where it hurt. “Ok—sharp. That’s pretty sharp.”

Doctor Miller was silent for just a little longer, lifting her arm to check the muscles in her torso and armpit, while still paying special attention to her neck and upper back. Eventually he placed her arm back to her side and Frank breathed a sigh of relief, “I don’t think it’s broken,” he said, pulling the stethoscope from around his neck, popping each of the ear pieces into his ear as he rested it along her chest, “Breathe for me, let’s make sure you didn’t puncture anything with a rib during your landing.” Frank breathed a few times and he nodded, winding it back around his shoulders, “Sounds good, clear. Again, I don’t think it’s broken, if anything you’ve sprained it. You’ll have a fairly large bruise once it’s come to the surface, but I’d still like to do an X-ray just in case. OK?”

“Does she need to be sent off for that?” Dorothy asked. 

“No, Commander. We have a machine here, it shouldn’t take too long. I’ll check to see if there’s anyone in front of her.” Doctor Miller turned his attention to the nurse next, “Let’s go ahead and grab some morphine to take the edge off, and I’ll wrap it after her X-ray is complete.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Dorothy tried to coax Frank into leaning back against the pillows while they waited for the nurse to return with the medication, but Frank refused, swatting Dorothy’s hand away when she tried to help her pivot her body fully onto the cot. “Must you be so difficult all the time?”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t be cross,” Dorothy moved her hand to brush some of Frank’s hair over her shoulder, “it’s for the best. It’s better that we know you’re injured so we can plan accordingly, rather than having you stranded at a different base, or worse, in another accident.”

“An X-ray is unnecessary.”

“You heard what he said,” Dorothy shifted on her feet, “let him deal with the injured while you fly the planes.”

Frank watched the nurse return with the syringe, refusing to look at the long needle as she prepared Frank’s arm for the injection, her eyes trained firmly on Dorothy when the needle sank into her arm. “Are you this difficult for your Major?” Dorothy asked, “Perhaps I should have called him in to worry over you. If what Rose says is true, he’d be halfway here by now…”

Frank’s only response was a grunt and Dorothy chuckled, moving to rest her hand along the railing at the head of the bed, leaning against it comfortably as the Nurse finished plunging the rest of the morphine into Frank, “It’s probably better if he’s not here. I can only imagine how he'd be.”

The nurse laughed at that and Frank shot Dorothy another foul look, "Your husband…?”

“No,” Frank shook her head before Dorothy could say something to earn her a third dirty look in less than an hour. 

“They’re courting,” Dorothy wiggled her eyebrows and Frank sighed, “and getting rather serious. He’s an American pilot.”

“Can you not use that word?” Frank made a face and both Dorothy and the nurse chuckled, “It makes it sound so…sterile. We’re just enjoying each other's company.”

“Frequently, I might add.” Dorothy folded her arms across her chest. 

“Are you a pilot as well?” The nurse asked, her eyes shifting to look at Frank as she slowly and carefully pulled the needle from her skin.

“A ferry pilot,” Frank nodded, wincing when she shifted her arm, “I primarily fly the larger planes.”

“I don’t know how you get into those things,” the nurse shook her head, blue eyes sparkling with interest, “they terrify me. My brother’s a pilot as well and the entire time he was in training I just waited for the letter to arrive that he crashed. The look on our mother’s face when he told us he joined the USAAF during Easter dinner…”

“My parents feel the same way,” Dorothy ran a hand along her neck, her eyes lifting upwards as if she were remembering a previous conversation. “Have you ever been in the air?”

“No,” She shook her head, dark curls pinned tightly along the nape of her neck, “and I’m in no rush to at all. I just recently arrived from the US and I’ll take a boat any day.”

The girls laughed, “I get seasick,” Frank shook her head, recalling how green she felt on her trip from the United States, “so flying is my preferred method.”

“You just arrived?” Dorothy asked, “Welcome to Ratcliffe. You’ll probably see us around base from time to time if you’re stationed here…”

“I’ll rotate every six weeks,” the nurse nodded, “but I’m sure I’ll make my way back here before the war is over. Or at least, that’s what I’ve been told.”

“I’m Dorothy Skylar,” Dorothy nodded toward Frank, who still sat on the bed, and while Frank appeared to be fairly disgruntled, Dorothy could tell the medication was starting to work. “This is Stella Frank.”

“Lovely to meet you both,” the nurse smiled politely, “I’m Frances Egan, but everyone back home calls me Fran. It was lovely speaking with you, let me check to see if we’re ready for the X-ray…”

Dorothy didn’t catch it at first, but when she turned to look at Frank and saw how wide her friend’s eyes were she only lifted her eyebrows, “What?”

“Did she say her last name was Egan?”

“I believe so—oh.” Dorothy whipped her head around to look at the retreating nurse, “Oh—you think…”

“Is it a common name?” Frank couldn’t control the wideness of her eyes, “Oh my God…”

“It could be…” Dorothy bit her lower lip, “But she did say she has a brother in the USAAF…”

Frank pressed her hands to her face, staring at Dorothy in shock, “How…how does this even happen?”

“I don’t know,” Dorothy’s eyes twinkled, “but can I be there when you tell him?”

Frank didn’t get a chance to reply, another nurse escorting her from the bed to a curtained off area to do the X-ray, the Doctor apologizing each time he made her arm bend or move uncomfortably, and when she was done she followed the Doctor back to the bed. “As suspected, it’s not broken,” he glanced over his shoulder as Frances hurried over with a roll of bandages, “I’m going to tape it to give you some relief and keep it from moving around too long. I am going to ask that you stay out of the air for a few days…”

“Yes, of course,” Dorothy nodded before Frank could process the Doctor’s words, the morphine definitely affecting her now, “we’ll make sure she’s off the schedule for the remainder of the week.”

“You should start to feel better in a day or two,” Doctor Miller reached for the scissors to cut the tape before placing it along Frank’s shoulder and arm, the adhesive sticking to her skin, “and try to keep from showering today, just to keep the tape from coming off right away.”

“Do we need to continue any medication?”

“No, shouldn’t,” he shook his head, “but if it gets to hurting at this level again, please don’t hesitate to come in and we can reevaluate.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Dorothy shook his hand and he gently squeezed Frank’s good shoulder. 

“Have a good night, ladies.”

“Fran,” Dorothy caught her attention when she moved to step away, “you mentioned a brother. Is he here, in England?”

“Yes, somewhere,” Frances nodded, “I can’t remember where, exactly. But he’s here on one of the American bases…why?”

Frank exchanged a look with Dorothy before the commanding officer continued, “Is his name John, by chance?”

“Yes,” Frances chuckled, “Another John here in England…”

“Does he go by Bucky?”

Frances’ eyes snapped down to look at Frank, her eyebrows falling ever so slightly as she stared back at the pilot on the cot, Dorothy watching with wide, interested eyes. “He does, in fact…” Frances only needed a few more seconds to connect the dots, “Oh my—you’re the girl from the letter?”

Dorothy’s head perked up, “Letter? What letter?”

“He didn’t mention any names,” Frances shook her head, moving to take a seat on the edge of the bed as she stared at Frank with eyes just as wide, “but he went on and on about a girl he met and how she’s a pilot… and you’re a pilot!” Frances hurried to take Frank’s hand, “How did you meet? Is he alright? Does he come here…?”

“I ferry planes to his base,” Frank shook her head. “He’s stationed at Thorpe Abbotts, it’s not too far from here. I met him there and as far as I know he’s doing well.”

“I cannot believe we are on the same base,” Frances continued to smile, squeezing Frank’s hand, “what are the chances that I’d meet the girl my brother wrote home about on my first night?”

“What did he say?” Dorothy asked, “He wrote about her?”

“Yes,” Frances chuckled softly, “yes. Our mother’s been going mad trying to figure you out. He gave us no description, no name, just that you were a pilot and that he’s smitten.”

“See,” Dorothy nudged Frank’s good arm, “I told you that he’s wrapped around your finger…”

“I’ve never seen him this way before,” Frances shook her head. “My brother never brings girls home to meet the family, he never talks about women, and he always gets so red when anyone asks him about marriage…and imagine our shock when we get a letter about a girl he’s basically in lo—”

“Nurse Frances!”

“Coming,” Frances scrambled off the cot, “I have to get back to work, but we’ll talk later?”

“Yes, of course,” Frank nodded, her heart beating just a little faster than normal at the end of Frances’ previous sentence. When she was far enough way, Frank turned to look at Dorothy, “Was she going to say that he’s…”

“Unless you’re ready to say it back,” Dorothy shook her head, “I would pretend you didn’t hear that. There’s no need to push something you’re not ready for. If he’s ready and he wants you, he’ll wait.”

“He will,” Frank nodded, fiddling with the ring along her finger, the one from her grandmother, “he’s already told me as much.”

Dorothy only shook her head, “I think I need to make a trip to Thorpe Abbotts soon…”

Frank snorted, reaching for her shirt before she slowly and carefully put it back on, ready to get out of the Infirmary and to her own bed, “I think you’d really get along with his best friend…”

---

By the time Frank made it back to the dorms, changed into something looser and casual, it was much later than she hoped. She missed dinner, but Dorothy managed to sneak her something to eat while she changed and after inhaling a bowl of soup as quickly as she could, Frank found herself waiting for the operators to connect her to Thorpe Abbotts. 

He answered on the third ring, his voice thick and tired and Frank desperately wished she could reach out to him, “Frank?”

“The one and only,” Frank avoided leaning against the wall with her bad arm, yawning softly. 

“I called earlier,” Bucky’s familiar voice made her stomach squeeze comfortingly, “but they said you were in the middle of something.”

“I was,” Frank only debated for a handful of seconds before she decided to just let him know, “I was in the Infirmary. I had a bit of a rough landing…”

“Are you alright?” Bucky sounded just a little panicked, and she envisioned him shifting, raking a hand through his hair. “Are you hurt?”

“I bashed my shoulder into the cockpit,” Frank said, “Dorothy forced me to get checked out, but I’m fine. Nothing is broken and they think it’s just sprained.”

“What happened?” Bucky shook his head, “Just a bad landing? Equipment malfunction…?”

“Bird strike.”

“Fuck,” Bucky drew out the word and Frank hummed. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I will be,” Frank sighed, her body wishing that she could just sink against him, give him some of her tired weight, “the doctor looked me over and wrapped my arm, and I met a lovely nurse from the states who gave me a shot.”

“I’m glad they have you taken care of.” Bucky’s voice dropped so their conversation would stay just between them, “You didn’t hit your head? Did the plane stall?”

“No, she kept spinning, thankfully.” Frank said, “I’m off for a few days to rest it, so I’ll be busy pushing paperwork.”

“Mmm.” Bucky leaned back against the wall, shifting the receiver from one hand to the other, “I can’t believe a bird…”

“Less than a thousand feet from the ground, too,” Frank shook her head, “it was a rough landing, but I’m glad I was so close to the airfield.”

“Me too, angel. Me too.”

Frank couldn’t help the way her stomach flipped at the name, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, “Did you play today?”

“Mhm,” Bucky nodded. “Early game, we won. I had a rough go, but made it home.”

“Are you alright?”

“Tore my uniform,” Bucky said, “took my whole sleeve off tryin’ to help out one of my infielders. But I’m alright, just a couple scratches and some bruises…”

“I’m glad you’re ok,” Frank shook her head, her heart clenching, “I hate that you lost your sleeve. I’m not even sure how that happens…”

“I’ll have to tell you in person,” Bucky wasn’t sure how to translate it into baseball terms, so he didn’t, “I think it’s a story they’ll put in the papers back home.”

“Speaking of home,” Frank said, “the nurse I mentioned earlier? She seemed so familiar.”

“Mmm?”

“Yeah, I didn’t realize until we were almost done why she looked so familiar,” Frank bit her lip to keep from laughing, “Frances says hello.”

The silence was brief but enough and Frank almost laughed when Bucky inhaled deeply, “Wait—my sister?”

“She’s here,” Frank nodded, Bucky chuckling lightly, “said she just arrived and she’ll be here for six weeks before moving to a different base. We were talking about flying and then before I knew it she was telling us her name…”

“Well, how ‘bout that,” Bucky shook his head in wonder, “what a small world. She didn’t give you too hard a time, did she?”

“No, no,” Frank said, “of course not. She’s sweet and lovely, and asked several questions about how we met. She misses you and is glad to hear you’re doing well.”

“How is she?”

“Also doing well,” Frank said, “she’s excited that you’re so close…”

Bucky chuckled, “I can’t believe she’s there with you. Watch out, she’ll try to influence you into believing all types of stories if she’s given the chance…”

Frank laughed, “I’m sure they’re adorable.”

“Yeah, keep thinking that,” Bucky said and Frank laughed, the former pleased that his girl was laughing and having a good time after such a stressful afternoon, “tell her I said hello back if you see her. I’ll try to figure out how to give her a call now that she’s there. Who knows, maybe I’ll cash in on some leave and come give my two girls a visit…”

“I’m sure she’d enjoy seeing you,” Frank felt her cheeks warm slightly, “she mentioned a letter you wrote to your mom…”

“Yeah?” Bucky sounded just a little nervous and Frank smiled slightly, “Did she open her big mouth and tell you all about it?”

“No,” Frank said, “I mean, she tried, but was called away. I just thought you should know it didn’t stay between you and your mother.”

“I didn’t imagine it would,” Bucky sighed, “I just told them about a great girl I met, who I think about all the time. Didn’t think it’d get back to you so soon, but I guess that’s what I get for thinking that.”

Frank was in a full blush by now, shaking her head as she looked down at her feet, “Just so you know, I think about you all the time too.”

A beat passed and Bucky smiled on the other end, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky reached over to run his fingers along the phone cord, his voice lowering once more, “Look, I know you said you’ll be up to your neck in paperwork, but if you think you can get some leave, I may have an idea…”

“An idea, you say?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky shifted, “Do you happen to have another pretty dress, pretty girl?”

Notes:

Thank you all for reading!! My procedure went well and everything looked good and normal! So we've crossed off some of the scarier things. I think we'll go through just a little more testing to see if we can figure out why my blood work is a little off, but so far everything is going well, so thank you for all the good thoughts!!

Let me know what you think of the chapter! It was a little delayed, but hopefully the 7000 words make up for it! Hahahaha.

 

(If you can't wait for the next chapter, you should check out some of our lengthy chats on Tumblr here! You can also read Bucky’s letter to his mother (as mentioned in this chapter), as well as other deleted scenes to be posted soon!)

Chapter 27: XXVII

XXVII.

Frank spotted Bucky not long after she stepped off the train and made her way through the station. He was parked not too far away, arms folded across his chest, the wide grin spread out almost completely across his face. He wore sunglasses despite the cloudy sky, the pair sliding down the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head, and even though she couldn’t see his eyes through the mirrored lenses, Frank knew he spotted her just as easily. 

His dark curls hung over his forehead, the strands just a little longer than they were when they first met and Frank longed to run her fingers through them, but she kept her fingers around the handle of her suitcase as she took the steps quickly down to greet him. It was a fairly stressful twenty-four hours. The bird strike combined with trouble sleeping and Dorothy fussing over her all morning had put Frank in a poor mood, but she could slowly feel that frustration disappear off her stiff shoulders, just as happy to see him as he clearly was to see her. 

Bucky’s hand wrapped around the handle, successfully taking her hard suitcase from her as his other wrapped completely around her waist, hauling her into his chest before he swooped down to kiss her. His hat knocked into her forehead and they both laughed, Frank reaching up to adjust it for him, moving it up enough she could reconnect their lips safely. His long fingers spread across the small of her back, guiding her further into his chest and Frank felt her heart skip a beat when he dropped her suitcase to the ground, cupped her face and tilted her head back. 

John Egan kissed like no other—and while Frank honestly had no idea how many times she had kissed since her marriage’s messy end, she did know she didn’t want to kiss any other man. There was no way she would ever find someone who was as thorough and enthusiastic, even if she wanted to. Frank broke the kiss first when breathing became strained, her lips sliding across his jaw to kiss his cheek, arm wrapping around his neck to hug him tightly. Bucky held her back just as fiercely, both of his arms wrapped fully around her waist as he pressed his forehead into her neck, long nose brushing the sensitive skin there as he whispered, “Missed you, angel.”

“I missed you too,” Frank breathed, emotion catching in her throat at having him against her right now, after they both had two very close calls the day before. 

Frank lost track of how long they stood there embraced, and she was sure to anyone passing by it looked like either one of them was dying or they had been reunited after months apart, rather than the handful of days they were actually separated. Bucky pulled away first this time, his hands curving around her waist before he looked her over, inspecting her face and exposed skin for any lingering marks from her rough landing. “How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s ok,” Frank tilted her head back, Bucky slowly brushing his lips against hers as she spoke, hand running up her back and across her shoulder and neck, “a little sore from the train.”

“Tell me if you’re in pain today,” Bucky pulled far enough away to search her eyes, “we’ll go back to the pub and rest…”

“You shouldn't leave the wedding,” Frank loosened her arms from his neck, hands gliding along his broad shoulders and across his chest, feeling the pins and buttons of his uniform, “I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be in trouble if you suffer through this,” Bucky warned and Frank pulled away far enough to slide her hands further down his chest before she took a step towards the waiting jeep, “I mean it, Stell. Any pain and we’re leaving…”

“Maybe I want to be in trouble…” Frank kept her fingers laced with his until their arms extended fully, Bucky gently tugging her back towards him after seeing what she was trying to do, “I’ll be fine.”

“Stella…”

“John…” She lifted herself up to the tips of her toes to kiss him quickly, “I’m fine. Your sister fixed me up and everything.”

“Better have,” Bucky brought her under his arm as they walked towards the car together, “otherwise I’ll have a talk with her.”

Frank laughed at that and thanked him softly when he opened the door for her, Bucky dropping his head to kiss her quickly before he closed the door and made his way back around the car, “Frances is lovely and I can’t believe I didn’t see the resemblance at first.”

“She took after dad,” Bucky started the jeep before tossing his arm over the back of Frank’s seat, expertly navigating it out of the parking spot before his hand settled along her thigh, fingers spread out. 

“You’ve got the same eyes,” Frank gently rested her hand over his, fingers curling, “and the hair color…”

“Eileen looks a lot like mom and I,” Bucky lifted his hand off the wheel momentarily to adjust his hat, “but we’ve all got the same eyes.”

“She mentioned your mom,” Frank settled back into the seat and Bucky glanced at her sideways, “and that she’s been going crazy about your letter, just as you predicted…”

“I don’t write very often.”

Frank laughed out loud and Bucky’s smile popped one of his dimples, their eyes meeting before he looked back to the road, “Something tells me that’s not true.”

Bucky only hummed, turning his hand over to take hers, bringing it up and towards him before he dropped a sweet kiss to her knuckles, “I got her letter back yesterday, she’d love to learn more about you.”

Frank squeezed his hand and he rested their entwined fingers along her leg, thumb brushing across the back of her hand as he continued to drive towards Harleston, “Do you think your sister will write to her?”

“I can guarantee you she already has,” Bucky laughed and Frank blushed, “I’m sure she’s told her all about you because she knows I’m not going to.” His eyes strayed back over to her, “Unless you want me to…”

Frank only lifted a shoulder, her other hand moving to cup over the top of his, fingers gliding under the hem of his sleeve until she could feel his pulse point along the inside of his wrist, “I just don’t want her to be concerned about who her little boy is spending his time with…”

Bucky snorted, “I’m not sure I’d call six foot two little…”

She only squeezed his hand. 

“I’ll tell her more about you,” he dangled his wrist along the wheel, increasing the speed of the jeep as they found themselves on one of the country roads, “I’m sure she’d love that.”

“Only if you want to,” Frank fumbled to explain, nerves spiking along the back of her neck, “I don’t mean to make you tell her about me—”

Bucky released her fingers to squeeze her thigh, hand slipping under the hem of her skirt to feel for her knee, fingers gliding across her stocking covered skin, “No one makes me do anything, Stell.” He found her gaze again and Frank suddenly felt very heated in the front seat of the jeep, “If I didn’t want to talk about you, I wouldn’t have mentioned you. She knows that.”

The rest of their drive to Harleston was in comfortable, if not a little charged, silence. Bucky kept this hand along her knee until they grew closer to the church, moving it to rest over her clothing, fingers lacing together again when he helped her out of the jeep, stealing a quick, albeit lingering kiss once both of her feet were on the ground. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered to her, hand tilting her chin up after he looked her over, “I didn’t mention it earlier, was a little preoccupied…”

“Thank you,” Frank’s eyes fluttered closed when he connected their lips again, “Rose let me borrow it…it’s a little louder than I prefer…”

“You look like a dream,” Bucky kissed her forehead before holding her out so he could inspect her dress. The peasant style wasn’t her favorite, but she did think it fit the occasion well. They entered the church together, Bucky’s hand moving to a more appropriate place along her back rather than just above her backside and she let him lead her down the center aisle of the church. She spotted a few familiar faces, and the back of Buck’s blonde head was easy to find, Bucky letting her enter into the pew first before he followed behind her, hat held down to his side. 

Curt noticed her before Buck, the shorter man seated beside the major craning his neck around to wiggle his fingers towards her, “Good morning, Frank.”

“Good morning, Curt,” Frank smoothed her skirt out before she took a seat, Buck offering her a nod and a warm smile, “Buck—how are you?”

“Doing well,” Buck shifted down a little further to give the couple more space in their pew, but Bucky’s arm landed behind her shoulders, resting on the back of the bench seat there to give her more space against his side. “Easy ride in?”

“Not too bad.” Frank tucked one ankle behind the other, not at all missing the way the pads of Bucky’s fingers circled along her upper arm, “Have you two been here long?”

“Buck likes to be early,” Curt pulled on his uniformed jacket, rolling his shoulders back as he fidgeted, “so…yeah.”

“If you’re not early, you’re late, Curt.”

“Or just ridiculously early.” Curt sent a wink towards Frank and she chuckled softly, Buck rolling his eyes, “Bucky and Frank are on-time, does that make them late?”

Bucky reached behind Frank and Buck to knock Curt’s shoulder, “Why you gotta bring us into your domestic?”

Curt laughed and Buck only snorted, his attention turning back to Frank, “How’s the shoulder? Bucky mentioned a bird strike…”

Curt crossed himself for dramatic effect and Frank chuckled softly, “It’s alright, I’m doing ok. Grounded for the rest of the week, so I’ll have enough time to rest it.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Buck nodded before pointing his thumb towards Bucky, “thought this one might walk down to Ratcliffe last night after he got off the phone with you.”

“Love you too, Buck.”

Curt made kissing noises and Bucky laughed at that, Frank shaking her head as Buck rolled his eyes, “Thankfully I’m doing well. I’m not sure I can say the same for the bird…”

“Flying bastards,” Curt shook his head and Buck nudged his foot, pointedly looking towards the cross hanging at the front of the church, “erm, uh—flying…b—birds…”

“Smooth,” Bucky coughed into his elbow and Frank shifted closer to him, Bucky’s hand gliding down her arm to cup her elbow, their eyes meeting a moment later. The look was long and Frank felt the back of her neck warm when Curt cleared his throat pointedly. 

“We are in a church, you two…”

Bucky reached across to push against Curt’s shoulder again, but before anyone could say anything more an organ began playing softly, signaling the beginning of the procession. It didn’t really dawn on Frank until the groom stood at the front of the church in his USAAF uniform that she was witnessing a wedding, the first she’d seen since her divorce and when the realization hit she felt her stomach turn to lead, the temperature along the back of her neck spiking for an entirely different reason now. She was somewhere in the early stages of panic and memories, flashes of walking down the aisle towards her ex-husband filling her mind, everyone staring at the beautiful, large white dress as she walked, sweaty hands gripping the flowers tightly. 

She almost didn’t realize what was happening until Bucky pulled her up with him, his hand gliding across her shoulders and down her back, everyone standing as the bride made her way down the aisle, dressed in a much more modern wedding gown, something not nearly as big or as showy as the one she wore, the veil falling mid back rather than trailing behind. It was a small church that was less than half full, but Frank still felt a little claustrophobic, remembering the way her grandmother cried when she saw her in the veil for the first time.

She felt a hand on her right wrist, head turning to see Buck staring at her, eyes searching her face and when he inhaled deeply she realized she was holding her breath, lips parting to release the oxygen she was holding hostage in her lungs, her chest suddenly feeling less tight. Buck’s movement caught Bucky’s attention and he searched her face as the bride took her place beside her groom. “Do you want to go?” Bucky mouthed to her and Frank shook her head no, but allowed herself to sit closer to him once they were seated, Bucky keeping his arm around her protectively. He snuck glances at her the rest of the ceremony, but thankfully it was different enough that nothing reminded her of her own doomed wedding, and it was much shorter, which Frank was very grateful for.

She was able to breathe regularly by the time they were out of the church, Bucky pulling her off to the side and away from the crowd that was cheering on the newly married couple, the church bells ringing in the background of their conversation. “I’m so sorry,” Bucky’s eyes were wide, his head shaking back and forth, “I didn’t even—”

“I didn’t either,” Frank stepped closer to him, pressing her forehead to his chin, “not until I was sitting there…it’s ok. It’s ok, I can’t avoid everything that’s ever bothered me…”

“It’s so much more than that,” Bucky whispered against her forehead as he tucked a bit of stray hair behind her ear, “this is a really big moment you experienced and—”

“I’m ok,” Frank cut him off, not really wanting to discuss it right now, instead just wanting to be closer to him, “I promise. I just shocked myself, that’s all.”

Bucky didn’t look entirely convinced, but he let it slide, arm hooked around her waist as they made their way back towards the group of familiar faces and Frank greeted Brady and DeMarco easily, Bucky keeping her under his arm as he exchanged a look with Buck that she missed. “Lovely wedding,” Brady’s hands were in his pockets and DeMarco nodded alongside him, “beautiful day for it too.”

“Rick looks happy,” Curt snuck a glance towards the couple before squinting up towards the sun, “his girl looks happy too. Is he taking some leave or…?”

“No idea,” Brady lifted his hand, waving towards a man Frank didn’t recognize, motioning him towards them, “hey, Croz…”

The shorter man who approached was dressed in a similar uniform, his dark curls resting along his forehead. The look across his face was somewhere between fascination and disbelief, a half smile across his face, “Captain, Majors, Lieutenant…”

“This is Lieutenant Crosby, one of our navigators.” Brady glanced towards Frank, the only face that he didn’ know, “Croz, this is Captain Frank. Bucky’s ATA pilot…”

“Right, of course,” Crosby reached forward to take her hand, “nice to finally meet you, Captain. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Lieutenant,” Frank released his hand after they shook and Bucky’s fingers spread further out along her side.

“Is Rick taking time off?” Brady asked, nodding towards the couple, knowing that if anyone knew anything about one of the 100th’s navigators, it would be Crosby. 

“No, no,” Crosby shook his head, shifting out of the way so a few people could walk around their group, “Just the rest of today and tomorrow and then he’ll be back. Last I heard they’re going to take a longer honeymoon after the war…”

“Sounds like an excellent idea,” Curt wiggled his eyebrows and Brady only rolled his eyes. 

“I heard the reception is just down the way at the local pub,” Crosby tossed his thumb over his shoulder, “Wanna walk together?”

“Sounds great—”

“I’ve got the jeep,” Bucky motioned towards the parked car, “we’ll meet you dodos down there.” 

Curt squawked in response and everyone laughed, DeMarco asking if that’s what dodo birds really sounded like. Curt only shrugged, followed by a “No fuckin’ clue, Benny-boy.” 

Frank let Bucky lead her back towards the car, and instead of helping her climb in, did he slide his hands around her waist before he leaned back against the jeep, eyes trained on her face. “Good?” 

Frank nodded, “I’m good, I promise.” 

“I didn’t even think when I invited you—”

Frank took a step forward, her hands flat on his chest as she kissed him slowly, successfully interrupting his apology. George’s words rang through her mind, her friend’s comment about her enjoying the time sticking out, and so Frank allowed herself a few moments to do just that. She kissed him in a way that she hoped would tell him just how she really felt, both about him and today, even though she wasn’t sure she had the words to explicitly say it right now. 

Frank’s mouth lingered against his, even after their kiss ended, the way he stroked her spine making her shiver slightly, her eyes fluttering closed when he kissed her again. She lost track of how long they stood there against the jeep, alternating between chaste pecks and full kisses, but it wasn’t until a few girls, none older than twelve, passed by giggling that the couple parted. 

“Did you tell everyone in the Eighth about me?” 

Bucky only smiled as he helped her climb into the jeep, shaking his head as he circled around to climb in after, long legs folding into the vehicle, “I didn’t have to.” 

“Oh?” 

“I don’t know if you know this, but before they went extinct, the dodos were known for their gossip…”

“I see,” Frank settled into her seat as Bucky drove them towards the pub, many cars and bicycles parked down the street and around the block. She waited until Bucky found a spot and parked before she leaned over to brush her thumb under his bottom lip, “My lipstick smeared.” 

“S’alright,” Bucky got out and opened her door for her, “now everyone will know I’m taken.” 

Frank chuckled and he wrapped his hand around hers before leading her to the pub, tongue swiping out to lick his lips, sending her a wink as he pushed the door open before they disappeared inside. 

It didn’t take long for them to settle in, the pub filled with members of the 100th Bomb Group and townspeople, a beautiful cake placed up on the bar. Speeches took over the beginning of the party, pint glasses filled with amber liquid passed around each time someone new stood to speak. Harry Crosby, the navigator Frank met outside the church, gave one of the speeches, talking about friendship and his own young marriage to his sweetheart Jean, and Frank would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little emotional when he toasted to finding love and happiness in the middle of the war. 

Bucky kept his arm around her, the couple tucked into one of the corner tables, his lips brushing her temple, ear, or neck every so often, their fingers laced tightly under the table where they rested on his thigh. 

Frank lost track, but she was pretty sure she was on her second pint when Curt came by with a tray of shots, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made everyone laugh. “You are good for something, Curt!” 

Everyone laughed at DeMarco’s exclamation and Curt bypassed the boy from Philly when he passed out the drinks, the laughter continuing when DeMarco’s face fell, “Don’t bite the hand that feeds ya, baby,” Curt slapped his shoulders. 

The liquor burned just a little going down and Frank squeezed her eyes closed as it hit her nose, Bucky’s lips pressing to her cheek once their glasses were placed back on the tray. Curt took the shot meant for DeMarco, and Brady laughed as he pushed himself out of his chair, slowly making his way towards the piano in the corner. 

Frank settled into Bucky’s arm, happily taking a drag from the cigarette he lit for them a few seconds later, Bucky holding it for her. Smoke from their cigarette and a few others mixed in the air and Frank rested her hand flat along his thigh, the loving atmosphere combined with the alcohol making her feel more at ease than she was in the church earlier.  

A song she didn’t recognize, but sounded lovely, filled the space and she turned to look at Brady on the piano, his tie loosened just a little, his jacket removed to give him room to play. Bucky alternated between humming and singing the parts he knew softly into her ear, and it wasn’t until some chairs and a few tables were pushed out of the way that he pulled her out of hers, handed Curt their cigarette, and led her to the dance floor. 

Several other couples were already there by the time they reached the space, one of them being the newly married couple, and Frank happily stepped into his arms, pressed closer to him than she had been the first time they danced. 

They didn’t speak, just enjoyed the music and each other, their lips brushing against the other every so often, never more than a handful of inches apart. Frank just pecked his lower lip when Bucky dipped her, taking that moment to kiss her deeply. 

Whistles sounded from the direction of their table, the boys who weren’t dancing watching the couple closely. Curt pulled a long drag from the cigarette before looking at Buck and motioning towards the newly weds, “How long before that’s them?” 

“I don’t know,” Buck tapped his fingers on the table top beside his non-alcoholic drink, “I’ve been wondering that myself. A while still, I think.” 

“Really?” 

“Mhmm,” Buck wasn’t going to air out Frank’s dirty laundry, and he certainly wasn’t going to share what Bucky told him in confidence, so he only lifted a shoulder, “maybe after the war is over…” 

“I can’t imagine them two waiting that long,” Curt shook his head, “I figured they were on the fast track…” 

“I think they’re enjoying the moment,” Buck reached into his inside pocket for his toothpick holder, selecting one before placing it between his teeth.

“Can’t fault them for that,” DeMarco took a healthy sip of his beer, “especially in this war…” 

“Anything from Amelia?” 

DeMarco shook his head at Curt’s question, “No, she wants to focus on flying right now. She said she’s interested, but that she’s here to do a job and once that’s over we can talk.”

Curt hissed, shaking his head, “That stings, I’m sorry, Benny.” 

“It’s alright,” DeMarco shook his head, “I’ll see where we both are after this whole mess. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her…” 

“Keep your head up, Benny,” Buck rolled the toothpick along his teeth, “never know when something might change her mind. You can take her out after we win this war.” 

“From your mouth to God’s ears.”

Curt lifted his pint glass at that, their eyes turning back towards the couple who were still wrapped around one another on the dance floor, Bucky’s fingers spread out along Frank’s waist and back, their faces still incredibly close as they swayed. 

“Of all the bases, I can’t believe Frances wound up at yours,” Bucky said, and Frank chuckled softly, “has she already started telling stories?”

“A few,”  Frank wrapped her arms tighter around his neck and he tilted his head back to laugh, a wide smile across his face. “Did you really tell your family you enlisted during Easter dinner?”

“I did,” Bucky continued to grin, “I love my family, but sometimes they can be a bit much, and my Aunt Bess was already nagging something terrible about my hair, my shirt, why didn’t I have a wife yet, all the shit. I was waiting to talk to my parents about it after dinner that evening, but I was feeling a little chaotic and made the announcement during dessert.”

“Your poor mother,” Frank stroked the back of his neck and Bucky pressed his forehead lightly to hers.

“She cried,” Bucky inhaled, “Dad was quiet. The whole table was silent and then Frances just got up out of her chair, walked to her purse, and lit a cigarette. Mom doesn’t like us smoking at all, but especially not at the table, so for her to do that and mom not to fuss…” 

“Then what happened?” 

“Oh, all hell broke loose,” Bucky shook his head, small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he continued to lead them around their area as Brady played a slower song, “Everyone was talking all at once, Eileen started crying, Aunt Bess asked why I wanted to ruin the resurrection, mom was asking when I was leaving for basic. So many rapid fire questions, and then dad just stood up and took me to the garage and gave me a beer.”

Frank laughed lightly, her index finger curling around one of the longer strands of hair at the base of his neck, “He sounded like a good dad.”

“He was alright,” Bucky lifted a shoulder and Frank made note of the way his hands on her waist tightened just a little, “game warden and politician, he did what he needed for his family. He was around more when Eileen was a kid than when Fran and I were younger, but he was older and Mom wasn’t as keen to let him wander off, so that’s probably why.”

“He died last year?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky dropped his lips to touch hers lightly, “I wasn’t home when it happened. Heart attack, it happened fast and he was gone before anyone could even think about getting help.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank lifted her hand to cup his jaw and he nuzzled his nose against hers, “that must be so hard, especially not being there.”

“I was there later that night,” Bucky inhaled deeply before sighing, “Mom was a wreck, Eileen too. Fran and I tried to keep things together, rotated the hot food and plants, made the arrangements, and I hate that we’re both over here now, leaving them alone…”

“For a good cause,” Frank added lightly, her lips pressing to his jawline as he hummed, “you’ll be back together soon. I’m sure of it.”

“I hope so,” Bucky pulled her closer, moving so she rested under his chin, her head pressed to his chest. They danced in silence for several comfortable seconds, Bucky’s hands running down her back until he wrapped fully around her, “Would you come with me?”

“Hmm?”

“Back home.” He gripped her just a little tighter, part of him worried about what her answer might be, “If we won and the war ended tomorrow, would you come to Manitowoc with me?”

Frank's first instinct was to panic, but George’s soothing voice fell over her brain next, his accented tone urging her to just be and to live in the moment, something he said often to anyone who would listen. She pulled away slightly, just enough that she moved out from under his chin, her hands sliding soothingly across his shoulders, eyes searching his, “I think it’s only fair I meet your mother next, right? I mean…I’ve already met Frances…”

Bucky’s laugh startled them both, his hands releasing her waist to cup her face, kissing her deeply there in the middle of several couples, neither caring that they were very much toeing the line of what was appropriate and not, even for a pub. They kissed until Curt’s voice drifted towards them, telling them to get off the dance floor and get a room, and with several other people laughing, Bucky pulled Frank off the dance floor and led her towards the bar, both of them needing a drink to help cool them down. 

---

It wasn’t but a few hours later that Bucky found himself leaning against the bar of the pub, watching Curt try to take Frank for a spin on the dance floor. They were all a little drunk, his brain fuzzy from alcohol and something else, so when Curt asked Frank to teach him how to do the Lindy Hop, or at least a remedial version of it due to Curt’s skill level and her sore shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his friend cut in, laughing every so often. 

“They’re having a nice time,” Buck was the most sober one there, causally coming up beside him, hands in his pockets, “and she hasn’t thrown in the towel yet…”

“She’s patient,” Bucky tilted his head, eyes glued to her as he watched her move and laugh with Curt, his friend’s two left feet obvious to everyone now, “and I fucking love her.”

Buck let out a bark of a laugh, his eyes widening as he glanced over at his friend, not at all used to Bucky coming out and making declarations of love. “Is that what you told her earlier?”

“No,” Bucky shook his head, “no, I asked her to come home with me. When the war’s over, and she accepted.”

“Well, I’ll be,” Buck couldn’t keep his own smile contained, “that’s really something, John. I’m excited for you.”

“She’s it, Buck.” Bucky shook his head, eyes following her as she and Curt attempted to start from the beginning, “It’s either her or nothing. She keeps me on my toes, makes me smile…” Buck only hummed beside him, his own thoughts drifting to the beautiful blonde back home waiting for him. He longed for her and couldn’t wait for her next letter to arrive. “...I can’t imagine life without her.”

“You gonna tell her that anytime soon?”

Bucky shook his head no, eyes tracking both Frank and Curt as they paused to breathe and to laugh, “No, but I’m gonna be ready to when she is.”

“Do you think she’s getting closer?”

Bucky nodded and his smile only widened out as Frank and Curt ended their lesson, Curt moving towards the table while Frank weaved her way in and out of people on her way to the bar. He swooped in to grab her around the waist, mindful of her shoulder and she laughed softly into his chest, smiles across both of their faces, “Ever teach dance before?”

“Not like that,” Frank fanned herself and Bucky only continued to grin, the most love struck look Buck had ever seen plastered across his best friend’s face, “I think I need some air.”

“Your wish is my command,” Bucky leaned over to squeeze his friend’s shoulder, “catch you later, Buck.”

“Have a good night, you two.”

“Should we have Buck drive?” Frank asked as Bucky led her towards the door. 

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Bucky held her to his side, pushing the door open with the palm of his hand. It was still light out, but the sun slowly beginning it’s turn downwards told them it would be nightfall soon enough, “don’t need him gettin’ in the way.”

Frank laughed, their fingers lacing together as Bucky led the way to the parked jeep, the one she wasn’t sure he had complete permission to borrow. She accepted his help into the jeep and Bucky hurried his way to the driver’s side, his hand finding its home along her thigh as he drove them back towards Dickleburgh. The towns were beside one another and so the drive was shorter than most and when Bucky pushed the car into park she happily accepted the kiss he leaned over to offer her. 

“Inside.” Frank’s own head buzzed, her body urging her to get closer to his, but the last thing she wanted was to scare any of the good townspeople. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Bucky approached Anne as soon as they were inside the familiar and cozy pub, her eyes flickering across the pub to search for Frank, finding her near the staircase and after a warning look to Bucky, she handed over the key. She was almost sure that if he hadn’t been so aware of her shoulder, he might have scooped her up and carried her up the stairs. But she happily settled for his arms around her and the way his body backed her into the door before he kissed her. They fumbled for the key and the lock and Bucky pulled away long enough to find some clarity to shove the key in, the couple stumbling in a moment later. 

“How’s your shoulder?” The metal key clattered onto the dresser after the door closed behind them, Frank walking back towards the bed, her fingers expertly pulling his tie free as she pulled him with her. 

“Fine, can’t even feel it.”

Bucky groaned, catching himself from falling on her after she fell back on the bed, hands flat on either side of her as he stared down at her, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” Frank slipped her left shoe off before she trailed her toes along the inside seam of his pants, “take your pants off.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head back and forth before he lowered his head to her chest, taking the neckline of her dress between his teeth, tugging on it playfully before he pressed a very soft kiss to the exposed skin of her chest, “I don’t want to hurt you, Stella.”

“You won’t.” She cupped his cheek, thumb gliding across his cheek bone, “I promise I’m not made of glass and my shoulder is doing a lot better after a night of rest.”

“I don’t believe you one bit that it doesn’t hurt,” Bucky pushed himself off her, standing in front of the bed as she whined, “and I’m not gonna be the cause of any more hurt.”

Frank kicked her other shoe off, and while her shoulder did pull uncomfortably when she moved to sit up on her elbows, she only lifted her eyebrows, hoping to keep her face passive, “I’m fine, see? Come back here.”

“We can get some dinner,” Bucky took a step back and she only narrowed her eyes back at him, “take an evening stroll through town.”

“Or…” Frank motioned him towards her, “you can come here and I can show you that I’m feeling fine.”

“Or we could talk.”

Frank flopped back onto the bed, hoping her sigh masked the groan that escaped her lips when her shoulder landed against the mattress uncomfortably. Silence fell in the hotel room and Frank rolled her head to the side so she could better see him, watching Bucky lean against the dresser across from her, “You’re really going to stand over there?”

“Well, I’m really not going to hurt you, so...”

“What kind of sex are you wanting to have?” Frank was half laughing and half wondering, “We can fool around…doesn’t have to be like…wild and crazy sex, Bucky…”

Bucky only shrugged, “Things escalate pretty quickly with us, I’m not ruling anything out.”

Frank laughed despite him not joking and she only tilted her head back, extending her neck to look up at the ceiling. She felt that familiar feeling of desire settling across her lower stomach as she thought of Bucky, and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been craving him since the last time they were together. She could feel her body warm as images of them together flashed through her mind and she arched her back slightly, hands moving to pull at the buttons and zipper of her dress. 

“Frank…”

“I’m just getting comfortable,” Frank grunted back, the material loosening enough once she unbuttoned all the buttons that she could sit up and pull it over her head, tossing the material onto the floor. She held Bucky’s gaze and he only stared back at her with dark blue eyes. She was left in her slip and stockings, the thin strap falling from her shoulder to rest along her bicep when she shifted, moving to pull the pins from her hair to let her curls fall over her shoulders. “Are you sure you’re comfortable over there?”

Bucky only shifted against the dresser, his eyes glued to her hands as she rolled the stockings down, tossing them towards her dress a moment later. “We don’t have to have sex on the bed, you know,” Frank pushed herself into a standing position, nodding towards the armchair in the corner, “that looks like it would be comfortable…” The way Bucky eyed the chair told her she was winning, so she continued, slowly pulling the hidden zipper of her slip down before she allowed the material to fall to the ground, his eyes darting back to her as she stood in just her underwear. “I don’t think I would hurt myself there…”

She could see Bucky’s throat bob in response. 

“Or…” Frank took a step back towards the bed, “we could just talk.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, angel,” Bucky ran his hand along the underside of his jaw, his heart beating against his chest strongly, “I don’t want you grounded for any more time and if you hurt the injury further, you could be grounded permanently.”

“George has one arm and he flys just fine.”

“Stella.” Bucky’s tone was completely flat and unamused and she moved towards him, tired of the space. She rested her hands on his chest, slowly unbuttoning his uniform jacket as he lifted his to brush his thumb along her jawbone, “I don’t want to cause any pain and I want you whole when I send you back to Dorothy.”

“While that is a fair point,” Frank pushed his jacket off his shoulders, Bucky not fighting it one bit as it landed on the ground, “I’m not sure when I’ll be back to Thorpe Abbotts and I really want you.”

Bucky kissed her slowly as she worked the buttons of his shirt, unable to keep his hands or lips to himself with her standing so close to him in just her underwear. “You have to promise to tell me if something hurts.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it,” Bucky whispered against her lips, “any pain or discomfort and we stop. Immediately. Are you hurting now?”

“I’m sore,” Frank slipped his shirt from his arms and shoulders, hands moving to his belt buckle next, “but it’s sore all the time. I’m ok, that just means it’s trying to heal.”

Bucky sighed and Frank kissed the base of his neck, palming him teasingly through his trousers as he exhaled, “Slow, John. We’ll go really slow, ok? We don’t need to break the headboard.”

“You’ll tell me if something hurts?”

“Yes,” Frank unbuttoned his pants and he groaned when she unzipped them, dragging her fingers along his covered cock, “I will stop everything and let you know I’m in pain.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, his hand reaching around to grab onto her backside, squeezing it in warning, “Be good.”

“Make me.”

“Fuck,” Bucky walked her back towards the chair, nipping her lower lip as he did, “when your shoulder’s healed, I will.”

Frank wrapped her arms around his neck and let Bucky walk her to the chair, their lips locked in a passionate kiss. When he was free of his trousers and shorts, Frank worked his undershirt off next, hands running along his bare chest and shoulders before pushing him back into the chair. “C’mon, angel,” Bucky grabbed her outer thighs as he watched her unhook her bra, the material falling from her arms before his thumbs ran across the band of her underwear, “don’t keep me waiting.”

Frank tossed her underwear aside before she climbed onto the chair and Bucky’s lap, her mouth pressing to his hotly once they were both situated. His hands wandered as they kissed, curving along her back and hips before dragging up her stomach in search of her breasts. He dropped his head to kiss her collarbones and chest, finding his way to one of her nipples while he rolled the other between his thumb and index finger.

“That’s good,” Frank whispered, head tilted back as she gripped his hair, Bucky’s teeth grazing the one in his mouth, “John…”

He moaned his way around her other nipple, fingers toying with the wet one as he worked it the same way and when her hips rocked into his did she pull his head back and away from her breast to kiss him deeply. Their heavy breathing and the sounds of kissing filled the room and when they pulled away they both gasped for air, Bucky’s hands running down her thighs, eyes glued to her face as his fingers walked their way up towards her center. “Are you wet for me, doll?”

“Mhmm,” Frank nodded, mouth forming a silent moan as he circled her, “I’ve been wet since the pub…”

“Yeah?” Bucky groaned as he sank one of his fingers into her heat, “What got you going?”

“Seeing you watch me,” Frank slowly moved with him, lip tucked between her teeth as she rode his finger slowly, “uh—from across the room.”

“I love watching you,” Bucky searched her face, doing everything he could to memorize it as he slowly slipped a second finger in beside his index, “especially right now.”

She opened her eyes, pupils dilated and she held his gaze, eyes glued to one another as he let her continue. He increased the depth a bit, working in time with her own thrusts and she sighed happily, “That feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Their voices were barely above a whisper, “You’re dripping down my hand, Stella.”

“You’re so handsome,” she cupped the side of his face and Bucky let her tilt his head back as she lowered her mouth to his again, “I love watching you too.”

“Wanna watch you ride my cock,” Bucky whispered against her lips, kissing his way along her cheek to her ear, not at all missing the way she clenched around his fingers in response as he whispered into her ear, “can you do that, angel?”

“Mhmm,” Frank couldn’t keep the moan back when he pulled his fingers from her and she pushed away from him quickly, moving towards the jacket that sat in a heap beside the dresser as he licked his fingers clean. 

“Inside pocket.” Frank returned with a condom, lowering herself to her knees to slide it on, her lips just barely grazing the head of his penis in a slow kiss before rolling the prophylactic down. Bucky’s head was thrown back, his hand guiding her back into his lap and this time she sank down onto him rather than his fingers. 

“Yes,” Bucky rested his hands along her thighs before finding home on her hips, “that’s good, Stell. So good.” She set the pace and Bucky let her keep it, nodding his approval when she would adjust the angle, her hands squeezing his shoulders before wrapping her arms his neck, slowing down their pace, the position so incredibly close now that she had to pause to keep from finishing earlier than she wanted. “So tight, baby,” Bucky moaned when she began to move again, “feel good?”

“So good,” Frank’s reply was breathy, and she couldn’t think of any other words to describe how amazing and thick he felt, the way he filled her at this angle so different than the other times they had sex in this position on the bed, “you’re going so deep…”

“Mhmm,” Bucky picked up the speed and Frank gasped, fingers dragging through his hair as she kissed him again, her breasts pressing into his chest, “gonna go deeper, alright?”

Frank’s moan was almost enough to send him into another dimension, his hips rolling up to meet hers as he reached just a little further, the head of his penis nudging her cervix in a way that had her clawing at his back. Her fingers slid up the back of his neck shortly after, tangling with his hair as she increased their intensity, breasts bouncing between them and he allowed his eyes to rake across her greedily, as if he wasn’t already enjoying her tight, delicious heat wrapped around him. 

“Ride me, Stell. You’re doing so good, baby. Find that spot.” 

“I’m almost there,” her reply was a cross between a gasp and a plea, fingers gliding across his neck and throat until they rested flat along his pectoral muscles, “ John…”

“Look at me when you come, angel.” 

Frank did as she was told, eyes locked with his as she found the spot she was searching for, her toes curling and her thighs tightening, lips parting immediately as her orgasm washed over her, the cries and moans coming from her mixing with the sounds of their bodies, Bucky reaching up to grab the back of her neck, pulling her in for a deep kiss as he tumbled right after her. 

They continued to move slowly, riding out their highs together, letting their bodies come down naturally, and when they finally came to a stop, Frank leaned down and kissed Bucky deeply and with everything she had, her hand cupping his chin as his trailed down her back, both of them enjoying their post-coital make out, fully aware of the shift that took place between them tonight. 

Notes:

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! And thank you for continuing to read our story!! I'm so excited to continue it, and I'm glad the writer's block has cleared! Let me know what you think!

I also unlocked my fics for now, I got a lot of messages from people without accounts and while the threat of AI and stealing is very real, the reason I post is 1) because I enjoy writing and these characters so much and 2) so that anyone else who also really enjoys them can read it too. The website that was my main concern has been suspended, so for now I'll leave them open to the public unless anything changes.

And you can always follow me on Tumblr for updates, chats, and sneak peeks here!

Chapter 28: XXVIII

XXVIII.

“Frank.” 

Frank tilted her head back as she watched Amelia round the corner and wander into the dorms, frown across her face as she weaved her way around the beds until she came to a stop just at the end of Frank’s. 

“Lo’ Amelia,” Rose mumbled from her bed, one arm thrown over her face, her left eye peeking out from under her elbow, “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“Bravo, Rose,” Dorothy’s deadpan echoed a few beds away, perched on the edge of one as she helped one of the other girls mend her jacket, “It’s only taken you almost a year to get it down.”

Frank stretched her arms back, kicking off her shoes as she looked back to Amelia expectantly, “Is everything alright?”

“No,” Amelia shoved Rose’s feet off the bed to take a seat opposite of Frank, Rose grumbling as she pushed herself up against the railing at the head of the bed, “When was someone going to tell me that Bucky’s sister is working on the base?”

Frank glanced over towards Rose, who only shrugged, both girls turning to look at Dorothy who hadn’t even bothered to look in their direction, eyes trained on the stitch she was working on. However, the young blonde beside her had eyes the size of dinner plates, watching the exchange with fascination. “Well…”

Frank cleared her throat while Rose shot her a pointed look, dragging her legs up to her chest to watch the conversation, Amelia’s eyes zeroing in on Frank, “I…thought you…knew…?”

“How would I know?” Amelia asked, hands lifting off the bed and into the air before they slapped against her thighs, “I’m not actively in the infirmary and we don’t eat in the same place, how would I know she was here?”

“It wasn’t malicious, Amelia,” Rose extended her leg to poke Amelia with her big toe, “we just haven’t seen you around recently. Frank’s been picking up more Spitfires and I’ve gone through a few flight evaluations in Maidenhead. We’ve all just been busy.”

“I don’t like that I don’t see you all very much,” Amelia’s shoulders slumped and Frank cocked her head to the side, searching her friend’s face, “I feel like I’ve been chained to a desk the last few weeks and they only let me out for a little sun and water…”

“And something else…”

“Rose,” Dorothy lifted her head, making eye contact with the Captain before shaking her head once, attention going right back down to the sleeve she was working on. 

“I don’t even remember the last time I flew,” Amelia flopped back on the bed, neck resting along the edge as her head hung off, “I think I’ve forgotten.”

“That’s not possible,” Frank shook her head, “it’s muscle memory. You’ll remember how once you’re behind the yoke.”

“What have you been doing anyway?” Rose nudged her again and Amelia swatted her foot away, “When you’re not sneaking off for overnight dates with Cadet Hurricane, of course.”

“I wish you’d stop calling him that,” Amelia sighed, “he has a name, you know…”

“James,” Frank offered when Rose’s blank face glanced over at her for help. 

“Right, James.” Rose glanced down at her nails, her thumb nail scraping just under the nail on her ring finger, brushing away a bit of dirt, “him.”

“I don’t know why you don’t get along,” Amelia shook her head. “Is it because he’s also working towards the Fortresses?”

“No.” Rose’s response was quick, frown appearing between her eyebrows, “It’s because he talks too much and is always where I need to be. If I didn’t know that you two sneak off every few days for a rendezvous down at the pub, I’d think he was trying to get into my knickers.”

Dorothy’s sigh was loud enough to fill the silence. 

“I’m not responding to that.” Amelia looked towards Frank and she only offered her friend a half smile, “How are the Spitfires going?”

“Don’t you think it’s odd?” Rose called across the beds in Dorothy’s direction, their commanding officer glancing up from her needle to look at Rose, “He’s been here a few weeks and he’s already training on the fortresses?”

“He flew B-24s in the Pacific,” Amelia said, shaking her head. “You know that.”

“So?” Rose scoffed, “I flew one to Scotland.”

“He was in active combat,” Amelia said. “It’s different. He was specifically trained to fly the bombers. Not using him where he’s strongest would be a huge oversight and irresponsible—”

“It’s not right,” Rose cut off, attention back on Dorothy, the girl beside her moving her eyes back and forth between Rose and Amelia as if she were watching a tennis match, “and I’m not happy.”

“We discussed this earlier, Rose,” Dorothy brought the needle and thread up, working to tie it off as she spoke, “Amelia is right. Cadet King is a skilled pilot and putting him in a plane that he isn’t familiar with over a plane that he is familiar with, doesn’t make any sense.”

“What about the hierarchy?” Rose shook her head, “He is a cadet.”

“He’s also not my problem.” Dorothy snipped the thread with her teeth and tied another knot, “I don’t have the authority to decide everyone’s role in this war, Rose. Heaven knows I have a hard enough time keeping up with you.”

“I’m going to write a letter.”

“You will not,” Amelia shot her a look, “green isn’t your color, Rose. It clashes with your hair.”

“Fuc—”

“Enough.” Dorothy cut them off, giving the girl beside her an apologetic look before she stood, smoothing out her skirt before wandering over towards them, her voice lowering, “This isn’t how we behave and this isn’t how we represent ourselves. Do you understand?”

Rose and Amelia both nodded and Dorothy slowly lowered herself onto the edge of the bed beside Frank, her eyes meeting each of theirs, “We are in this together, we are making a difference in this war, and we will not allow a man to get in the way of that. Rose, it does not matter what Cadet King is doing, it only matters what you are doing. If you want to fly the Fortresses, then make it happen. Amelia, we know the early stages of a relationship are sacred, but keeping your personal life separate from your professional is a balance you will need to understand. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Commander.” Both girls chorused and Dorothy stood to her full height, hands running along her sides to button her jacket, eyes shifting to glance towards Frank, “I need to make a quick stop over at the tower, walk with me.”

Frank pushed herself up from the bed after sliding back into her shoes, Rose and Amelia watching with curious glances as the two disappeared down the hall. Frank didn’t bother asking any questions and instead looked up at the night sky, inhaling the evening air deeply. It wasn’t until they were halfway down the walkway, away from any lingering groups on their way back from dinner or the pubs, that Dorothy spoke, her voice low. 

“King is with you tomorrow,” she said, Frank’s head turning to look at her, “he’s going to shadow you on a few of your runs. You’re not to let him take control, he’s strictly an observation pilot. Do you understand?”

Frank nodded, eyes searching Dorothy’s face and the seriousness behind her eyes. Standard operating procedure on shadow flights was always to have them observe and never to fly, so Frank found it very interesting that Dorothy felt the need to reiterate that. “Yes, I understand.”

Dorothy continued walking and Frank kept quiet, mind running through their conversation, trying to read between the lines. “Is there a reason he’s already training on the bombers?” Frank asked after a few moments, “I understand the logic but—”

“I don’t know.” Dorothy confessed with a slight shake of her head, “I tried to question it when I saw the boards but I was told not to worry about it. We always start out small, regardless of skill, and him going straight to the B-17s is rather alarming.”

“So Rose is—”

“Too observant.” Dorothy said, “I was hoping it would fly under her radar, but they have been in close contact the last week. She’s right in her feelings. It isn’t fair.”

“Then—”

“I have no answers, Frank,” Dorothy came to a stop just at the bottom of the stairs that led to the control tower, turning to look at her Captain, “for the first time in a long time I know no more than you do. But I can tell you that I am watching and I will figure out what’s going on, if there’s anything strange tomorrow, anything at all, I want to know the moment you land.”

Frank felt her stomach sink slightly, something she wasn’t comfortable acknowledging settling there, “What’s going to happen?”

“Nothing.” Dorothy rolled her shoulders back, hand resting on the railing as she took a step up, “If my suspicions are correct, nothing will happen at all this time.”

---

Frank felt rough the next morning. Between Rose’s sulking and Dorothy’s cryptic talk the night before, she was only able to get a few hours of sleep. Her body was sore, her shoulder, which was mostly healed, ached just a bit, and she could feel the corners of her eyes burn from exhaustion as she made her way towards the airfield. 

The sun was still rather low, just on the verge of fully coming up over the horizon and she had to rest her forearm against her mouth to hide her yawn, lifting her hand in acknowledgment to a few of the engineers she passed along the way. Her pilot bag was heavy in her hand and Frank’s boots dragged more than thumped on the tarmac when she reached it, making her way towards the hangar she would be taking her first plane from. It was a Fairey Barracuda and only the second one Frank had ever flown before. It arrived late last night before quickly prepping for its turnaround to the coast today.

The one and only close call she’d had in her time at the ATA so far was in a Barracuda and she couldn’t help but side eye it closely, eyes sweeping across the strange plane, watching it closely as if it were going to misbehave in front of her. However, before she was able to go through her first check list, as she would be doing no less than three for this plane, her focus was interrupted by the appearance of James King himself. 

His face was clean and young, his hair still cropped close to his head, a lopsided smile that she would see across faces back home unnervingly familiar. “Captain.” He came to a stop a few feet away, uniform on and flight overalls already pulled over, the straps to his parachute digging into his shoulders, “Good morning?”

“So far, so good,” Frank lifted a hand to glide her fingers along the underside of the plane, feeling the notches and grooves that would eventually hold massive weaponry once it arrived on its aircraft carrier, “and yourself?”

“Very good.” James brought a hand up to drag through his hair, eyes flickering back in the direction of the various buildings on base, “It’s an honor to be able to fly with you today. I’ve heard a lot of great things from different people and I can’t believe it’s happening already…I really expected it to be several months before I had this opportunity…”

Frank didn’t want to agree with him, her mind gently drifting back to her conversation with Dorothy the night before, so she only plastered on a fake smile, one that was almost exclusively reserved for men. “We’ll probably have a long day ahead of us, I think we’ve got three legs before we make it back here, so hopefully you don’t get too bored.”

“Never.” James walked with her when Frank began her first circle around the nose of the plane, “I’m just glad to have found somewhere that I can still make a difference instead of being back in the States.”

“The ATA is a wonderful organization,” Frank kept most of her attention on the plane, eyes sweeping each of the panels, each of the bolts, making sure nothing was out of place, “we’re happy to have you.”

“Everyone is so friendly.”

Frank only hummed in response, not quite sure she’d agree with that statement so she kept quiet. Her pilot’s bag landed harshly on the ground beside her feet before she ducked her head, rotating her body to look up at the nose of the plane, squinting against the rays of sunlight that reflected. She checked the landing gear, hands running up along the belly as she crawled under and James’ head appeared a moment later to her right, “Is this a normal pre-flight check or…?”

“Yes,” Frank laid flat on the ground, thoroughly inspecting the bottom of the Barracuda. “Have you ever read Frankenstein?”

“By Mary Shelley?” James nodded, “Yes, I think so. A few years ago in school, probably.”

“Well,” Frank shimmied further down, the space between her and the airplane growing larger. She sat up, legs folded in front of her as she tapped the metal with her finger, “meet the monster.”

James seemed to take in her words and comparison slowly, as if he were trying to figure out what she was implying, a slight frown across his too happy face, “The plane is his monster?”

“Yep.” Frank was on her feet once she finished her inspection of the plane’s belly, hands running along the side to feel for any loose panels, “If the Royal Navy is Frankenstein, this awful creature is her monster.”

James seemed to take the plane in differently now, eyes sweeping across it as if he were looking for any noticeable issues or markings that would back up Frank’s statement. “I thought the engine—”

“Rolls-Royce makes beautiful cars,” Frank took a few steps further, making her way to the back of the plane, “but the engine they selected for this bird is total shit. It makes take off a nightmare and that combined with its choice of rudder creates a fun game of ‘are we going to roll or is the altitude too much.’” 

“I see…”

“So,” Frank thumped the back of it with her thumb, eyes finding his for the first time since she began her first inspection, “you can see why I’m inspecting it so thoroughly.”

“Well, if this is your least favorite,” James continued to follow her around the plane, hands now in the pockets of his jacket, “Which is your favorite?”

“Whichever one lands safely,” Frank eyed its wing as she passed under it. 

James seemed either at a loss for words or unsure of what to say, silence drifting between them as she made her way around for her second pass. The sun was just a little higher by the time Frank was satisfied with the aircraft, moving back to grab her bag just as a few jeeps passed them on their way to the control tower. “So, where are we taking her?”

Frank only smiled. 

---

“Our Father, Who art in heaven…”

Frank wasn’t sure if she was religious or not. She spent most of her life in church, attending service with her family every week unless she was unable to get out of bed. She had her first several chaperoned dates with her ex-husband in the middle of the sanctuary on Sunday mornings and was even married in that same church. If she closed her eyes, she could remember the way it looked, how light it had been that early in the morning as the sunshine streamed in through the windows, promising the start of what she thought would be a lovely life. It was the same church where she found herself in the front pew long after service ended, staring up at the cross, contemplating if she wanted to continue this life or not. Memories of the night before, of glass breaking and voices raised filling her ears, the stench of alcohol stuck in her nostrils. 

“...hallowed be Thy name.”

It was the exact opposite of where she found herself now, high in the sky as she approached England’s far south west peninsula. Her ears popped rapidly as they slowly began their descent downwards, the fingers of her right hand gripping the Barracuda’s yoke so tightly her knuckles turned white. She had an escort in, as the area often found itself under attack, the Hawker Hurricane gliding along beside them, armed and ready for anything that may appear out of the clouds. But, despite the presence of the fighter and the rapidly approaching ground, Frank still found herself gripping the cross she wore around her neck, pointed ends biting uncomfortably into her palm the tighter she held it. 

“Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

James was down below in the navigator’s seat and she made sure before take off that there wasn’t anything he could fiddle with or mess with that might affect her flying, and while she knew he couldn’t do much, if any damage, down there, she still found herself reciting the familiar prayer she’d uttered countless times her entire life. She absolutely dreaded the Fairey Barracuda take offs, but wholeheartedly despised the landings and the last time she attempted one she’d barely been able to walk away from the plane after it skidded off the runway and into another plane. 

“Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses…”

The Hurricane brought them down before it broke away to find it’s own runway and Frank could see the tops of buildings breaking up the view of the water as the Barracuda hesitated before it’s touchdown, the first wheel hitting in a way that jostled the entire plane, her breath catching as she worked to throw the plane in reverse, the sound of wind filling her ears until it drowned out everything else. 

“...as we forgive those who trespass against—fuck.” 

Frank reached for the controls, yanking one of her throttles up as high as it could go, the heaviness of the plane combined with the wind causing the Barracuda to fishtail and it wasn’t until she reached the very end of the runway that it finally came to a stop. She leaned back heavily in her seat, chest rising and falling rapidly as her body came to terms with them being back on solid ground and out of the air. Frank made a mental note to tell Dorothy she never wanted to fly one of these beasts again.

By the time she managed to climb out of the plane, helmet dangling after being unlatched from her chin, she breathed in the salty sea air before approaching the waiting jeep, James King already waiting beside it. “Captain Frank?”

“That would be me,” Frank took the attention off the cadet, the man in the jeep’s eyes sweeping to her instantly as he looked back and forth between them, clearly having expected James to be the senior pilot, “she’s all yours.”

“Care for a ride?”

The trip to one of the hangers was easy and Frank was glad she regained feeling in the tips of her fingers after holding onto the yoke so tightly the entire flight across the country, happily accepting a warm cup of coffee from one of the clubmobile girls. James seemed to linger at the front of the line after Frank found a place to sit and regroup, his easy smile setting off warning bells in her head as he conversed with one of the girls. She didn’t know what his situation was with Amelia, other than Rose telling them at breakfast several times that they were spending long evenings together and had, on more than one occasion, spent an entire night at the pub together. So, without any additional information she filed it away for later, watching over the top of her mug as he grinned and chatted with the girls. 

The second leg of their journey was easier, with Frank’s nerves settled as she gripped the familiar controls of the Fairchild PT-19, navigating the skies much more relaxed than she had with the Barracuda. It wasn’t until after they dropped the Fairchild at Maidenhead, the brightly colored plane ready for the latest wave of fresh cadets to train with that she and James spoke again, this time both comfortably settled in the B-17 Flying Fortress. 

“Is flying your passion?”

Frank tilted her head, glancing sideways out the corner of her eye at James as he remained situated in the seat to her right, leaned back in his chair as if he were the most relaxed he’d ever been. “I like it quite a bit,” Frank found herself saying, eyes flickering across the clouds, James turning to look at her as she spoke, “I don’t know if it’s my passion. I like helping and I like being part of something important. If anything, I think making a difference is my passion.”

“Did you fly before you joined?”

“A little,” Frank lifted a shoulder, “not nearly as much as I fly now.”

“Where are you from?”

“California,” was Frank’s automatic answer, and a month or so down the road she would be incredibly relieved at having given it. “You’re from Maine?”

“Mhmm.”

“Family?”

“Some,” James turned to look out the side window and Frank’s fingers tightened on the yoke, “You?”

“No.”

“No one back home?”

“None worth writing to,” Frank maneuvered the fortress a little to the right as they cut through the English countryside.

“But you have someone here?” James continued, “I remember the pilot we had drinks with a few weeks back commenting on it. B—Bucky is his name…?”

Frank felt her gloves squeak slightly before she released her grip on the controls, “Yes, Bucky. He’s part of the USAAF.”

“Did you meet here or back in the States?”

There was something about the way he phrased the question that had Frank giving him a quick glance. It stood out, as if she were missing something entirely obvious, but with her stomach slowly forming knots she let a little doubt slip into her mind. Something she would make sure never to do again. 

“We met here.”

“Where?”

“At one of the bases.” Frank’s eyes searched the landscape, her brain all but screaming at her to change the subject, “Do you enjoy flying?”

“Oh yes,” James’ eyes twinkled as his sunglasses fell down the bridge of his nose, half smile turned in her direction, “it’s my favorite. I hope to get my hands on the fighters one day, the Fortresses too. I heard we might be getting a Super Fortress soon?”

“I haven’t heard,” Frank said, “I look forward to hearing stories about it. I’m sure you’ll be behind the controls soon enough. Are you enjoying your time at Ratcliffe?”

“It’s a lovely base,” James nodded, “getting to know everyone has been great. Amelia is wonderful, and Dorothy’s knowledge is unmatched.”

“Good, glad to hear it.”

“How long has Dorothy been a commander?” James asked. 

Frank only shook her head, “I have no idea, awhile. She was already in that position when I arrived.”

“Someone like her, I’m so curious as to why she didn’t join the other organizations. The ATS would be a good fit for her, especially since they now have full military status…”

“Dorothy loves to fly,” Frank said, and while she did have answers to his questions, she chose not to share them, “I have no idea how she ended up with the ATA, but I think we’re much better off with her.”

“Yes, indeed.” James shifted in his chair and Frank’s heart stopped when she thought she saw him reach for the controls in front of him, but he only lifted a hand to run along the underside of his chin strap to adjust it, “What about you? How did you end up with the ATA so far from the US? The WAC wasn’t something that interested you?”

“No.” Frank’s response was simple and enough, her eyes taking in the familiar sights of Northampton, which would be their final leg of the day before they took the train back to Leicester. It was still early enough Frank hoped they would arrive before nightfall and as she slowly started her descent downwards she had never been so thankful for silence before. 

---

Bucky ran a hand along his face, thumb brushing his jaw as he looked through the mail resting on his cot. He had a letter from his mother, as well as one from Frances, but it was the soft, loopy writing that had his stomach turning, his attention zeroing in as he reached for it. Frank’s name was scribbled along the top corner, but it was the way she’d written out his full name and rank along the front that had him smiling. 

They hadn’t spoken in about a week. He was busy with training missions and a few successful bombing runs in France and it seemed every time he tried to reach her she was either off base or in the air. However, the thin letter he had in his hands more than made up for it and he couldn’t deny the happiness that filled his chest at seeing that she took the time to write to him. He tore off the side of the envelope before tugging out her letter, a familiar scent he was used to inhaling from the crook of her neck when they were wrapped up in one another filled his senses. 

Behind him some of the other boys were coming and going from the hut, rummaging through their foot lockers and discussing random topics, but he tuned them all out, instead working to open the tri-folded letter, his thumb brushing the corners. He took in her handwriting first, but before he could settle in to read it, a small 2x3 photo floated from the bottom and landed beside his shoe. He reached down to pick it up, his eyes memorizing the beautiful face forever captured in the black and white photo as he sat on the edge of his bed. 

Stella Frank smiled back at him and based on her formal hair style and uniform, it had to have been taken not long after she joined the ATA, the pilot pin she had along her lapel obvious in the photo. His thumb brushed along her chin and cheek and he felt his stomach and heart both seize at the same time—how desperately he wished he could be with her in person right now. How he longed for the time they could be together all the time, back home, both of them safe and together. Happy. 

He rested the photo between his fingers, making a mental note to put it along his dials the next time he was in his plane before he turned his focus to her writing. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing it, liking the way she looped her Ys and Gs, her letters slanted and flowing into one another seamlessly. Elegantly. Effortlessly. 

July 8th, 1943

My Major, 

I hope this letter isn’t too much of a surprise and that you aren’t startled. I was finally able to find the time to go through some of my things, Dorothy’s been on me about my spring cleaning being well overdue and she’s right. It definitely is. But, luckily for us both, my cleaning negligence led to me discovering this photo. This was taken not long after I arrived, shortly after I became a cadet, before I was assigned to my station. I think I look differently, but Dorothy assures me I don’t. Rose says I need a haircut, but no one asked her anyway. 

I’m not sure how often we will have spoken by the time this letter arrives, or if I’m even there, but I hope you’re doing well. The boys too. Things are busy here, as I’m sure they are there, and I hope to see you soon. Sleeping is lonely without you, I seem to have grown accustomed to having you beside me, despite us only sharing a bed a handful of times. I didn’t think I’d ever miss that again, let alone have it again, but I find myself waking in the middle of the night, disappointment falling at having realized you’re not with me. 

Be safe. As best you can, at least.

Tell Buck and the others I said hello and that Rose says hello to Curt—although she’s frowning at me now that I’ve mentioned it. She likes him a bit, but something tells me they’re both too stubborn to do anything about it. 

Perhaps when the war is over. I find myself starting to dream of those days. 

Affectionately, 

Frank

“That smile isn’t decent.”

Bucky lifted his eyes from the paper to see Buck wandering into the hut, gently pulling his jacket apart as he did. The taller of the two leaned back on his cot, tongue poking into his cheek as he said, “It’s not. Frank wrote to me.”

“Everything ok?”

“Mhmm.” Bucky closed the letter back, not interested in sharing anything of it, his mind still whirling at her words, “Just keeping me on my toes.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Buck tossed his jacket on his bed. “Did you hear LeMay’s coming in a few days?”

Bucky heaved a sigh, eyes rolling slightly. His entire day was filled with various meetings about LeMay’s arrival and what they were to do and not to do. It seemed everyone was busying themselves with cleaning into the farthest corners rather than what their next mission was going to be. “I’ve heard it at least a dozen times now.”

“Harding doesn’t seem too worried.”

“That’s why he’s coming, I’m afraid.” Bucky pushed himself back into a standing position, leaving the letters from his mother and sister behind as he crossed the hut, tapping Buck on the shoulder with Frank’s letter after he stuffed it back into the envelope, “I’m gonna take a walk. Make a call.”

“Tell her I said hello.”

Bucky only saluted his friend, sending him a playful wink as he backed out of the hut. 

The walk across the base was easy and he inhaled the fresh hair deeply, eyes lifting up to look at the darkening sky, taking in the stars and the wisps of the clouds. Another day was coming to an end. Another day was done. Another day they were all alive. 

He entered the offices he sometimes used a desk at not too long later, glancing around the space to confirm he was alone before he scooped up the receiver and flopped down onto the chair. He waited for the operators to connect them, balancing the receiver between his ear and shoulder, unfolding Frank’s letter to scan through it again when he was finally connected. 

“This is Frank.”

“God, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice, angel.” Bucky rested the letter on the edge of the desk, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back, imaging her and what she looked like. His mind drifted into the parts of his brain that held the memories of just the two of them together. 

Frank’s sigh filled his ears and he leaned back in the chair, propping his shoes up on the desk, “I feel the same way.” He could hear her shifting on the other end, her voice lowering although it sounded louder the way she held the receiver, “It’s so good to hear you.”

“Been too long.” Bucky opened his eyes, gently tugging her photo out from the envelope, half smile crossing his face, “Dorothy’s keepin’ you busy?”

“Incredibly so,” Frank nodded, although he couldn’t see, “I think I’ve spent more time in the clouds than I have on the ground. How about you? I feel like every time I call you’re in a meeting or off base.”

“Feels like it too,” Bucky nodded, “I’m not even air exec anymore and I’m still wasting time in meetings. I thought after I was demoted I’d be flying planes not a desk.”

“You will,” Frank said, “I know you have been. Buck told me as much last time I called.”

“Buck’s a liar.”

Frank laughed and Bucky grinned widely, loving the sound as it hit his ears, “I think of everyone I’ve ever met, Buck is the least likely to be a liar.”

“His head’s big enough,” Bucky said. “What’d he have to say?”

“That you’re busy,” Frank smiled, “and that he’s tired of seeing you mope around the base.”

“Yeah, I’mma have to handle that later,” Bucky sighed and Frank chuckled, “but it is good to hear from you. I got your letter today as well.”

“Oh really?” Frank asked, “That’s great. I’m surprised it took so long, but I suppose there are tons of letters that need to be delivered right now, huh?”

“Oh, probably.” Bucky ran his nail along the edge of the torn envelope, “I love the photo by the way…”

Even though he couldn’t see her, he knew she was blushing. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m gonna stick it up to my dials, see it every time I take off.” Bucky smiled down at the photo, his heart warming at the thought of seeing her each time he was in his seat, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Frank’s voice was quieter now, giving away her nerves and he only smiled wider, “I want you to have it.”

Bucky was fairly certain if anyone walked in they would have taken him straight to the infirmary to be evaluated, based on how wide he was smiling, “When’re you gonna come see me again, pretty girl?”

“I’m not sure,” Frank sighed, “Dorothy’s been fairly quiet about ferries and schedules. So I’ll have to see what I can find out tomorrow.”

“Everything ok?”

“No.” Frank didn’t bother hiding it from him and Bucky felt all four of his chair legs land back on the ground, the hair along the back of his neck standing up at the change of tone in his girl’s voice. 

“No?”

“No.” Frank cleared her throat before she lowered it again, “I can’t—not over the phone.”

“Are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” Frank said. “It’s just…something.”

“Lee’s not back, right?” Bucky could feel his blood chilling and boiling all at the same time, very much prepared to pull rank and make a scene if that clown was back and bothering her. 

“No, no,” Frank shook her head, “no, of course not. No. He’s long gone. It’s something else. I just can’t…I don’t fully understand what’s happening and—I’m not sure—”

“I get it,” Bucky cut her off, “I get it. We’ll talk next time we’re together. As long as you’re ok?”

“I’m ok.”

“Good.” Bucky frowned down as he adjusted the phone, moving it to his other ear, “I worry about you.”

“Funny.” Frank’s humor and flirtatiousness slowly returned and he smiled again, “I worry about you too, Major.”

“Yeah?” Bucky glanced around the empty room, confirming it was truly empty, “Have you been thinkin’ about me?”

“I think about you all the time.”

Bucky wasn’t sure it was possible for his heart to soar even higher, but now that it was well above the base and high into the clouds, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how much higher it would get in the coming months.

Notes:

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! Tell me all of your thoughts!! I can't wait to read them!!

I believe we'll have a pub night next chapter... 😉

And, as always, you can always follow me on Tumblr for updates, chats, and sneak peeks here!

Chapter 29: XXIX

XXIX.

Frank wasn’t at all surprised to see Rose walking down the sidewalk with Frances Egan, wide smiles across both of their faces. Frank lifted the cigarette up to her lips as Rose let out one of her signature laughs, curls shaking. She’d just lifted a hand to rest along Frances’ elbow, the girls pausing their walk to turn towards one another as they finished whatever conversation they were having. 

“You’ll have to show me sometime,” Rose said after she and Frances began walking again, approaching Frank where she leaned against the side of one of the hangers, “because that sounds like an incredible photo.”

“It is,” Frances gave Frank a smile, watching on in amusement as Rose took the cigarette from Frank’s fingers before taking a drag from it herself. 

“Sure, Rose,” Frank exhaled a light stream of smoke, squinting against the sun, “help yourself…”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Rose ashed it before nodding towards Frances, “I was just speaking with your future sister-in-law…” Frank sighed and Frances laughed behind her hand, shaking her head at Rose as the redhead continued to tease, “...and she mentioned that they have a family cabin in…”

“Wausau.”

“Wausau.” Rose nodded towards Frances, “And seeing as how I’ve never been north of Virginia, it sounds like a gorgeous place to vacation.”

“Uh-huh…” Frank blinked in response, trying to put two and two together.

“We spend the time between Christmas and New Years there, usually,” Frances explained, running a hand across the patch along her bicep where the Red Cross symbol was. 

“And she’s just invited me!” Rose was far too happy and Frank couldn’t help but chuckle, “Once the war is over, of course.”

“Of course.” Frank took her cigarette back before inhaling from it, “I hope you know what you’ve just got yourself into with this one.”

Frances laughed and Rose only rolled her eyes, “I’ll be enjoying a lovely time skiing, thank you very much.” 

“It’s a few hours outside of Manitowoc.” Frances began, Rose nodding towards one of the waiting Skytrains as they began walking, “Dad bought it right after they opened the ski resort. One of his old hunting buddies was selling off his cabin and dad jumped at the idea.”

“I’ve never been skiing before.” Rose shook her head, hands sliding into the pockets of her flight coveralls, “Have you, Frank?”

Frank shook her head no, “Before I arrived here, I’d never seen snow before.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Frances laughed, “I’ve lived with snow for nearly thirty years now!”

“I think we’d be a sight to see on the slopes,” Rose wiggled her eyebrows and Frank snorted, “but you know who would be a great skier?”

“Amelia,” Frank nodded, finishing her cigarette with one final pull, “hands down, she’s got it in her blood, I’m sure.”

“John’s decent,” Frances offered and Rose’s eyebrows shot up, “he took to the slopes really well before enlisting.”

“I’m sure he’d love to teach you…and warm you up after…”

“Enough,” Frank warned, reaching around Frances to push against Rose’s shoulder, “that’s her brother.”

Frances only laughed, holding her hands up, “Leave me out of this. We’re just all glad he’s found someone. Mom was starting to think she’d never see him settled.”

“See?” Rose waved her hand back at Frank, shoving her hand away when Frank smacked her shoulder warningly, “They’re happy. I knew when my brothers started having sex, I’m sure she does too—”

“Oh my God,” Frank took a few steps out in front, “I do not want to be part of this conversation.”

Frances laughed the entire way to the Douglas C-47 and the girls bid her goodbye as Frances moved into the back with a few other nurses, Frank and Rose going through their preflight checks before settling into the cockpit. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“To be fair,” Rose leaned forward to adjust one of the knobs, “I was already on my way, you didn’t take me anywhere.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t want to hear about her brother’s sexual escapades, Rose.”

“So they’re escapades now, huh?” Rose leaned back in her chair as Frank shot her an annoyed look, “What do you two get up to in Thorpe Abbotts?”

“I’m not answering that,” Frank lifted her eyes, hands running along the switches above her, “and you are not going to Wisconsin.”

Rose nearly deflated there and Frank glanced at her in alarm, Rose frowning back at her, “What do you mean I’m not going? She invited me, I’m absolutely going!”

“Rose—”

“No,” Rose swatted Frank’s hand away, “you’re not going to enjoy the beautiful mountain without me, I won’t allow it! I’ve already agreed to it and it would be rude to back out now.”

“Perhaps we should see what happens after this war first, Rose.”

“What’s going to happen?” Rose scoffed in return, pulling her helmet on, “Other than you two falling madly in love, getting married, and coming back to the US with two and a half kids?”

“...half…?”

“Well, two and one on the way.” Rose shot her a look, “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m not far off.”

“I’m not sure which I’m more concerned about,” Frank shifted in her chair, gently tugging her sunglasses out of her coveralls before placing them on her face, “the war going on for that long or popping out three kids...”

---

Frank parted ways with Frances and Rose after they arrived in London. Frances was set to go through a few training courses at one of the larger hospitals for the next week and Rose would be spending the rest of her time on a train to Wales, whereas Frank found herself in a recently repaired Fortress, happily cutting across the sky to make her way to East Anglia. She was supposed to return to Ratcliffe later that evening via train, but after a brief weather delay and a ground stop at Thorpe Abbotts, it was well into the afternoon by the time she found herself back in familiar sky. Her happiness, however, was immediately smothered when she caught sight of thick, black smoke, the tell-tale sign of a crash far too close to the airfield.

“Oh my God,” Frank scrambled out of the B-17, her eyes glued to the horizon where the massive wall of black smoke rose up into the sky, her heart thumping in her chest as she moved around the front of the plane, trying to get a better look at what happened and who, if anyone, was injured. 

“Practice mission,” Frank glanced over her shoulder to see the man she met all those weeks ago the first time she landed on this runway, a friendly half smile resting across his face as he came to a stop beside her, “not sure what happened just yet, but word is it lost altitude and just burned out.”

“Who—who was flying?”

“Lieutenant Woodrow Barnhill,” Winks pulled the rag from his back pocket, wiping his palms across it, “and his crew. So far they’ve managed to pull three out alive.”

“Holy shit.” Frank’s eyes flew to the man beside her and he gave her a shake of his head, “I’m sorry, that was crass—”

“We’re at war, Captain,” Winks said, “if that bothered me, I don’t have much business bein’ here, now do I?”

“Fair,” Frank chuckled, turning to follow Winks away from the plane and down the runway, fingers gripping the handle of her bag tightly. “Who’s part of his crew…?”

“I don’t think anyone you know of,” Winks shook his head, “Buck and Bucky are already there helpin’ out, Lemmons is on scene too and I think Harding just got there.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Frank bit her lip and he smiled gratefully back at her, “it’s one thing to lose men in combat, but to lose seven in a training mission…”

“We’ll be pulling that plane apart for quite awhile,” Winks sighed, “tryin’ to figure out what went wrong. God rest their souls…”

Frank gently ran her hand along her coveralls, fingers pressing the cross into her sternum as she glanced over her shoulder towards the dissipating smoke, “That is…that is a lot of smoke…”

“These things burn and they burn for a while,” Winks nodded towards the one she just brought in, “just when you think it’s burned all its gas and oil, it finds some more.”

“How terrifying.”

“Don’t ever crash one,” Winks meant it to be playful, a way to try to find humor in such an awful situation, but Frank felt her stomach flip with dread, glancing over at him nervously, “if the impact doesn’t kill you, the fire will.”

“I’ll—keep that in mind.”

Winks nudged her elbow and Frank sent him a tight smile, following him further down the runway, her spirits lifting ever so slightly as she spotted a few local children wandering around, bothering and hounding the grounds crew. Winks waved to a few, a boy and a girl who looked like siblings, waved back to him excitedly. “Any word on the plane?”

“None yet,” Winks called back, “you two best be gettin’ on home. Don’t want your mother coming after us for keepin’ you out after dinner again…”

The children moaned and groaned and Frank couldn’t help but laugh, Winks shooing them away with his rag before he stashed it back in his pocket, “The cutest grounds members, I take it?”

“Mhmm,” Winks shook his head, hands resting along the tops of his coveralls, “they help out from time to time, get a real kick out of the mechanics and askin’ questions. Lemmons loves it and we don’t mind the company, keeps things light. They know to stay well-enough out of the way when things are going full speed, and as long as we don’t keep them from their daily chores, no one seems to mind it.”

Winks waved goodbye after she reached the tower and Frank went through her landing paperwork easily, making brief conversation with a few of the girls working the desks before she exited. “There she is…” Frank turned to see Bucky exiting one of the huts further down, dragging a hand through his curls before he pulled his hat on, “Thought I saw you fly in earlier.”

“Fog delay in London,” Frank called back, watching as Bucky did a half walk, half jog in her direction, neither able to keep the hint of a smile off their faces at having been reunited, “But it looks like you’ve had your hands full here…are you alright?”

Bucky lifted a hand to cup the side of her face, thumb swiping along her cheekbone comfortingly, and when he dropped his head to allow his glasses to slide down the bridge of his nose, she could see his eyes, “I’m well and glad to see you.”

Frank let Bucky kiss her forehead before they parted, despite his former CO no longer on base, she wasn’t sure what the protocol was and had absolutely no interest in putting either of them in that situation again. “Winks said the smoke was a practice mission gone wrong…”

“Mhmm,” Bucky drug his thumb along her lower lip, eyes glued to it as she pressed a feather light kiss to the pad of his finger, Bucky taking his hand back before he really got them into trouble, “Just got out of a meeting about the new forts. You might be pretty busy the next several days, we’ve lost quite a bit since arriving…”

“I’m sorry,” Frank walked with him after he nodded his head in the opposite direction of the airfield, “although I like seeing you, I wish I didn’t have to bring you so many.”

“The cost of war, it seems,” Bucky gently slid his hand along her back and up to her shoulder, hooking it around her neck as they continued to walk, “tell me something good, Captain.”

Frank glanced down at her boots as she walked, racking her brain for something before she snorted to herself, the corner of his lip lifting when she did, “I was with your sister, actually, before coming here. She’s spending a few days in London for some specialized field training and Rose and I ferried a plane and a few nurses over.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Well,” Frank nodded, “from what I’ve heard she’s really excelling.”

“That is good news, I’m glad to hear it.”

“But the best part,” Frank slid her arm around his waist and Bucky hummed his approval, “is that she and Rose have struck up a friendship and now she’s managed to invite herself into your next holiday at your family’s cabin.”

Bucky laughed loudly, shaking his head as he directed her towards one of the vehicles not too far away, “I can only imagine—I’m glad they’re getting along. She doesn’t have a lot of friends who aren’t married and I’m sure she’s really enjoying the girls at Ratcliffe.”

“Amelia invited her out to drinks in a few weeks,” Frank turned her head to press a soft kiss to his covered shoulder, Bucky’s eyes immediately finding hers. 

“Yeah?” He moved to grab onto the door, but before opening it to help her in he rested his hands on either side of her, locking her into place, “Special occasion?”

“Maybe…”

Bucky grinned, lifting his right hand to rest under her chin, tilting it up to look at her, “I’m waiting to hear if I can get a day pass for your birthday, but if I can’t I promise we’ll celebrate the moment I see you—”

“It’s ok,” Frank slipped her hand along his wrist and kissed his knuckles, “really. We’ll figure it out. Rose and Amelia want to celebrate at the pub, I’m pretty sure Dot’s getting some kind of sweet, it’ll be fine. I promise.”

“I fucking hate this war,” he shook his head and Frank could see just how upset he was about potentially missing her birthday, “we’ll still have fun if I can’t…”

Frank lifted her hand to stroke the side of his cheek, Bucky turning his head to kiss her palm, “We talked about this, John. I promise it’s ok—I know you’d be there if we weren’t in the middle of a world war…”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he shook his head in frustration, “but I can tell there’s something big in the works.”

Frank nodded, hand running along his neck and shoulder before she slipped it down his chest, “Take me to the pub so I can kiss you properly?”

“Anything for the lady.”

True to his word, Frank found herself wrapped in John Egan’s embrace not but twenty minutes later, her lower back resting against the hard edge of the dresser, her flight suit and his sheepskin jacket tossed onto the floor, her fingers deep in his dark hair as he held her as tightly as he could, one hand splayed out across her backside while the other cupped her chin. “I really needed this today,” he whispered against her lips when they parted to breathe and Frank nuzzled his nose gently, “after the crash…”

“My heart stopped when I landed and saw the smoke…” Frank shook her head and he shushed her softly, giving her two soft pecks before she could continue, “I felt terrible that I was so relieved it wasn’t you.”

“Don’t feel terrible,” Bucky breathed, “I’m glad it wasn’t me either.”

“I want this to be over,” Frank shook her head and he caught the stray tear that slipped from her eye as she inhaled raggedly, “I hate not knowing. I hate this war and—and what’s happening in the world and the chance that you…”

“Shh,” Bucky brought her as close as possible, kissing her quickly before pressing his forehead to hers, “we have right now, focus on that, angel. Every day’s a new day, we’re here together, and we’re going to have a good night, ok?”

Frank nodded and he kissed her again, gently walking backwards to the bed before he flopped down onto the corner, bringing her fully into his lap. He just kissed her deeply, dragging his mouth along her jawline and down her neck when the watch he wore around his wrist reflected and caught his eye, “Oh—fuck.”

“What—what’s wrong?”

“I have a meeting at five,” Bucky groaned and Frank gasped as he fell backwards onto the bed, her hands resting on either side of his head as she hovered above him, “I forgot all about it with the chaos of today. Shit. I’m sorry, baby…”

“No, no,” Frank shook her head before kissing him quickly, “don’t be sorry, it’s ok…”

“It’ll just be an hour,” Bucky watched Frank climb off him and she held her hands out for him to take, letting her pull him back into a sitting position, “I’d skip if it weren’t with Kidd and Harding…”

“Please, it’s fine—this is your job. I get it…”

Bucky only shrugged in response before he stood to his feet, hands cupping her face as he stared back into her eyes, “Take a bath and try to relax and enjoy the afternoon. I’ll be back in an hour, hour and a half and then we can go have a drink with everyone.”

Frank nodded, accepting Bucky’s thorough kiss that she desperately wanted him to continue, but when he stepped away she had to remind herself that this was what they both signed up for. They were at war. They were part of that war. That came first. 

No matter how hard it was to watch him leave. 

---

Bucky positioned himself at the table where he could see her the moment she came down the stairs. Freshly changed out of her uniform and into a flowy, A-line wool skirt, Bucky wanted nothing more than to undo the buttons along her waist and take her to bed as soon as she stepped off that last step. She moved easily around the groups of people to the bar, her blouse loose, but still tight enough that he could see her silhouette, memories of them in bed the last time they were together flashing across his mind, and he shifted a little at the disappointment that filled his stomach at what they would’ve gotten up to if he hadn’t had to leave her earlier. Beside him, he was vaguely aware of Curt telling a story, the shorter man slapping him across the shoulders, forcing him to laugh in time with everyone else at their table, despite having absolutely no idea what was being said. 

His full attention was on the brunette at the bar, the way her hair fell in waves over her shoulders, the way her eyes sparkled as she spoke with Anne. She leaned against one of the stools, smiling politely to a few other patrons around her, greeting Tommy warmly as he reached for a few pints beside her, the boy nodding back to her. Bucky felt a warm feeling spread across his chest at seeing her fit in, seeing her around people who were basically strangers. Anne took a few steps away and Frank turned her attention away from Tommy and over towards the older woman, shifting to get a better look at whatever it was that Anne was pointing to, the ATA pilot leaning over enough that her skirt lifted up and over her knee. 

Bucky had seen her knees before, had kissed them and loved them on his way both north and south on her body, but when she came back down from her tiptoes to her flat feet, the hem of her skirt caught on the stool and Bucky was pretty sure his mouth went dry. 

It was quick, so fast that he wasn’t sure if he imagined it, thoughts filling his head on what he may have just seen above her knees. The warmth moved from his chest to his abdomen and he had to shift in his chair again when he felt some of that heat move lower, his legs moving automatically to try to give himself some room to breathe. 

If his eyes hadn’t been glued to her before, they absolutely were now, watching her laugh at something Anne said, the woman grinning back at her before she went to grab a few clean glasses. Frank continued to lean, head turned as Lil approached, the two women smiling at one another politely. Lil, who was waiting on a few drinks, was fairly quiet, but whatever Frank said next, motioning towards her sweater, must’ve put Lil in a better mood, as her eyes lit up and nodded before running a hand down the front of her shirt. 

Bucky was enjoying watching her in the informal setting, watching how she interacted with people she didn’t know, and he was keen to continue to sit back and study her like the piece of art she was, but it appeared he wasn’t the only one with his eyes on her. One of the RAF pilots at a nearby table made his way towards the bar, greeting both of the women easily, wide smile across his face. 

Lil didn’t linger too long, once she had her pint she was off, moving away from the bar and back to her own table where she easily slipped back into a conversation with Major Dye. Frank, however, was still waiting for Anne, the older woman held up at the end of the bar. The pilot moved into Lil’s space easily, leaning against it as he faced Frank, eyes running across her in a way that made Bucky antsy. He wasn’t the jealous type, hadn’t really ever had a reason to be, but seeing the pilot rest his hand on her elbow had him up and out of his seat, catching the attention of Buck beside him. 

“Easy,” Buck warned, eyes shifting over towards the bar, “she can handle herself.” 

“No one gets to touch her.” 

“John…” Buck swiveled his head around as the taller Major moved around the back of his chair, “Don’t cause a scene.” 

“M’not gonna cause a scene.”

“Then sit back down.” 

Bucky hesitated, eyes shifting back towards his girl, heart slowing when she expertly brushed the touch off, taking a step back to put some space between herself and the pilot. Slowly he lowered himself back into his chair, Buck nodding at him as he took his seat, not even bothering to hide the fact that he wasn’t listening to the end of Curt’s story. He watched them chat for a few more seconds before the pilot smiled widely across the drink he ordered, and before he moved to walk away did his hand slide along her back, head lowering to whisper in her ear. 

Bucky was out of his chair in seconds. 

“John…” 

Bucky ignored his friend, crossing the space towards the bar just as Frank took another step back, shaking her head no at whatever the man had whispered into her ear. His hand stayed on her back, despite Frank shifting away in an effort to remove it when Bucky reached them. His chest landed against her back, and he felt Frank tense up briefly before she recognized his touch and relaxed against him, his hand sliding over her hip as his other removed the man’s hand himself.

“What are we talkin’ about over here?” Bucky’s thumb stroked the waistband of her skirt, spinning one of the buttons on her right side as he felt Frank lean further back into his chest. 

“This is Charles,” Frank introduced as if Bucky cared what the guy’s name was, “he’s a fighter pilot for the RAF.” 

“Ah,” Bucky pressed his hand just a little firmer to her side, “they teach you manners in the RAF?” 

The Englishman’s smile dropped completely, having already been falling at the way Bucky wound himself around Frank in the handful of seconds since joining them at the bar, “I beg your pardon?” 

“You know, in the USAAF, we don’t touch women after they’ve told us no.” 

“I—”

“Here’s your drink, love.” Anne placed the two glasses down in front of Frank, eyes shifting back and forth between the pilot and the couple, “Simmer down or take it out of my pub, boys.”

Anne successfully deescalated whatever was brewing, the pilot nodding his goodbye before leaving to make his way to the far side of the pub. Bucky moved into the recently vacated spot easily and Frank only smiled at the way his hand slipped back over her hip to pull her towards him. “Evening, Major.” 

“Captain,” Bucky slipped his index finger into the band of her skirt, feeling the edge of her blouse that she had tucked in, “you’re beautiful.”  

“So are you,” Frank reached for one of the glasses and Bucky grinned, taking it from her before she took the other, “didn’t want to make friends tonight?”

“I don’t make friends with guys who touch my girl.” Frank laughed at that, moving easily into his chest as he pulled her closer, their glasses clinking before they sipped, “Ok?” 

Frank nodded, “I’m ok. Thank you.” 

Bucky threw back the rest of the whiskey, lowering his head so he could whisper into her ear, “I think I saw something.” 

Frank lifted her eyebrows, not quite sure what he was alluding to, “You saw something? Here?” 

“Mhmm,” Bucky placed his glass down onto the bar, moving to loop both arms around her waist, “and I’m very intrigued.” 

“As am I,” Frank laughed, hands resting flat on his chest once she set her own drink down, “can you give me a hint?” 

“I think you already gave me one.” 

Frank shook her head, playfulness and a bit of confusion across her face, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Major. How many drinks did you have while I was getting ready?” 

“Just a few,” Bucky dropped his voice, “Let me take you upstairs and show you what I’m talking about…” 

“You’re with your boys,” Frank tugged on the knot of his tie, “and I just came down. I can’t sweep you away now...” 

Bucky lowered his head a little more, nose brushing hers, “You can sweep me anywhere, doll. I had to leave earlier, let me make it up to you…” 

Frank laughed, shaking her head, “Be a good boy, your friends are here and by the looks of them, they seem to be having a great time. You all need this after today.” 

“But what if I wanna be a bad boy?”

“Good things happen to those who wait,” Frank pecked his chin and his smile widened out, “and bad boys walk back to base in the rain.” 

“I’ll be so good,” he dropped his head to kiss her, perhaps just a little longer than what was considered appropriate, even for a pub. 

Frank pulled away before either of them could get carried away, before Anne called a foul, before she did end up taking him upstairs and to her bed. “Good.” 

Bucky kissed her forehead, hand flattening out along her back as he took a step away, “Come join us—I’ll shove DeMarco away.”

“Be nice to Benny,” Frank finished her glass before she allowed Bucky to escort her towards the table, his arm comfortably around her waist, “he’s already been turned down by Amelia, let him have his seat.” 

“Can’t shove Buck—he’s a brick house.” 

“I can sit elsewhere,” Frank rolled her eyes as they approached. 

“Like in my lap?” 

“I don’t think so.” She gave him a playful look and he gave her an air kiss in return, the Major tapping the side of DeMarco’s head as they passed behind. 

“Up.” 

“No—”

“Trust me,” DeMarco shifted over a seat, leaning into his space as Bucky allowed Frank to sit before he took his own chair beside Buck, “it’s better for us all if I just move.” 

“Smart man.” 

“Thank you,” Frank gave DeMarco a soft look, “but you didn’t need to move.” 

DeMarco only sent her a wink in response, and Frank felt Bucky’s hand slide over her upper back, wrist dangling off her shoulder as they sat close. “Frank,” Buck greeted her and she nodded in response, “nice weather in the air?” 

“Seems so,” Frank smiled in return, “not too turbulent today.” 

“Glad to hear it.” 

“Our queen,” Curt all but leaned across Buck and Bucky, grinning widely at her as Frank shook her head at him, laughing softly as he took her hand and kissed the back of it, “you look gorgeous tonight—”

“Alright,” Bucky shoved the clearly intoxicated Curt Biddick away, hand on his chest as Frank laughed beside him, “get off—you jackass.” 

“Love you too, baby!” 

Everyone laughed as Bucky blew him a kiss and Frank shifted closer to Bucky as he squeezed her shoulder, thumb swiping across her collarbone. “We haven’t met,” an accented voice just a little slower than Rose’s filled her ears and Frank glanced to her left, spotting a man speaking on the other side of DeMarco, “I’m Joseph, but everyone calls me Bubbles.” 

“Bubbles,” Frank nodded in return, “I’d love to hear that story.” 

“Oh, it’s one for the books…”

“Where are you from?” 

“Lexington, Kentucky,” Bubbles smiled back, “born and raised.” 

“One of my good friends is from the south,” Frank nodded, “I’m sure she’d love to meet you.” 

“She fly with the ATA?”

“She does—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Curt warned, nudging Buck who only proceeded to shake his head with a small half smile, “c’mon, Frank—you can’t take Rose away from me...” 

“If only I could control Rose, Curt…” Frank said, Bucky laughing loudly beside her, his fingers slinging along her shoulder until they rested along her upper arm, fingers playing with the cuffed sleeve of her blouse. “Besides, I think she’d yell at one of us for ages if I tried.” 

“Could be fun?” Curt only shook his head after everyone laughed, “But in all seriousness, she talk about me?” Frank only winked in response and Curt leaned back in his chair happily, “I gotta see her again, Frank.”

Everyone laughed, including Frank as she leaned further into Bucky’s side, his hand continuing down her arm until it rested low on her side, “I’ll see what I can do.” 

“I’ll kiss the ground you walk on,” Curt pressed his palms together as he spoke, nodding his head, “whatever you want—it’s yours.”

“I’ll remember that.” 

“I hope so…”

“Now, now,” Buck warned as Bucky sent Curt a look, “John’s already wound up.” 

“Love you, Major.”

Bucky winked and Curt laughed, but before he was able to say anything further an accented voice interrupted the conversation. “Are these seats taken?”

Frank lifted her head from where she’d been watching Bucky’s fingers slide along her hip, his fingers slowly bunching the fabric of her skirt up in his palm. “No.” Major Jack Kidd was the first to respond from his position on the other side of Curt and while they spoke Frank could feel her insides warm at the way Bucky was looking down at her, eyes dark and unreadable when she met his gaze. “You’re welcome to join us.”

A handful of men dressed in Royal Air Force uniforms tugged out the remaining empty chairs, greeting the other men casually and introducing themselves, but Frank heard none of it, forcing herself to pull her eyes away from Bucky before they both found themselves in a suggestive position, her attention shifting as the man she met at the wedding, Harry Crosby, wandered over with a tray of glasses, Jack and one of the British airmen striking up an easy conversation. 

“Frank,” Crosby greeted her with a smile that Frank found boyish, her body shifting just a little closer to Bucky’s and if she leaned enough she could rest her head against his shoulder, “you weren’t in my original head count, what can I get you…?”

“She can have mine, Croz,” Bucky reached for one of the glasses, passing it towards Frank, his eyes meeting hers again and no matter how many times they kept finding one another the atmosphere felt more and more charged each time. 

“Thank you,” Frank sipped the whiskey and he zeroed in on it, despite them being surrounded by people in a crowded pub, everyone seemed to fade away until it was just the two of them and Frank had to try to wrack her brain to remember why they were down here and not upstairs in the perfectly empty room. 

Bucky’s hand lifted off her hip where he’d been toying with one of the buttons of her skirt before he gently slipped a bit of her hair over her shoulder, Curt’s voice booming for a few chairs away catching their attention and shattering the facade as he came to Kidd’s defense, entering into the debate on which bombing strategy was better, “Well, maybe if you bombed during the day you’d hit your targets…”

“And a ginger beer for you, Major,” Crosby effectively interrupted the newly developed tension as he handed Buck the taller glass after he finished handing out the shorter ones, “all right, everyone enjoy. I’m not buying the next round…”

“Thank you, Croz,” Bubbles lifted his glass before tapping it against his friend’s and DeMarco nodded his own thanks in return, “I’ll buy the next one.”

“How about a song?” One of the RAF pilots pointed across the table and Frank lifted her eyebrows in confusion as everyone turned to look at Bucky, “I hear you sing, Major…”

The entire table broke out into conversation, discussing their favorite songs and singers and Frank had a hard time following as everyone spoke at once, Bucky laughing beside her as he squeezed her elbow, “Only if you pick the right one!”

Frank couldn’t help but laugh when Bucky lowered his head to her ear, mustache tickling the edge as he sang the first few lines of Blue Skies for only her to hear, causing her to reach across and slide her hand along his thigh, squeezing it softly. However, before she was able to say anything more and before Bucky got up out of his chair in an attempt to coerce Brady, who was blissfully unaware of this entire conversation across the pub, into playing the piano, Curt changed the topic to baseball, effectively getting Bucky’s attention back to the conversation. 

The conversation was thankfully lighter than it was moments ago and Frank laughed when Bucky went into detail about the Yankees, Buck only rolling his eyes in response when he found himself dragged into the conversation, letting Bucky and Curt on either side of him have their fun. Frank didn’t realize until Curt was beginning his story of one of Buck’s practice flights in Washington that the RAF pilots at the other end of the table were less than amused by the boys’ drunken antics and theatrical story, the men exchanging board and annoyed looks with one another to the point Frank glanced nervously towards Curt, the man nearly hanging over Buck’s shoulder, hand flying through the air in time with his story of Buck buzzing the tower.

Bucky’s arm hooked back around her neck after he took a drink from her glass and Frank felt him press a gentle kiss to her temple, his attention mostly on the boys, but the couple still exchanged a look, Bucky rolling his eyes playfully in response to the story and she chuckled lightly, both DeMarco and Bubbles cutting in to correct Curt when he embellished the story a bit, the boys arguing over how many engines Buck had. “I’m tellin’ the story here!” Curt shook his head, waving both boys off and Frank laughed at that, Bucky snorting beside her, “It’s my story—and the next thing I see is this fort sailing twenty-five feet over the runway. Silent as the grave.”

The silence that fell next was heavy and Frank rested her palm along Bucky’s thigh, one of the RAF pilots across the table humming before he broke the silence, “Beautiful.”

“Wanna do that all my life,” Bucky looked over at Curt and Buck before his eyes met hers and Frank didn’t at all miss the way his gaze shifted to her lips, letting him close the distance between them for a soft, albeit lingering kiss, the boys all toasting to Buck as they parted. 

“No engine, Cleven!”

Bucky finished her drink, a chorus of glasses hitting the table a moment later, “Would you have rather been a fighter pilot, Major?” The older looking RAF pilot asked, a pipe in one hand as he worked to stuff it with the other

“Buck is a fighter pilot,” Bucky cut in before Buck could register the question, let alone respond, Bucky’s fingers gliding along Frank’s upper arm as he spoke, “A fighter pilot who just so happens to fly a bus.”

“So are you Bucky!” Frank smiled in Bubble’s direction as he pointed towards the man seated beside her, Bucky’s lazy smile crossing his face as he moved his arm off Frank’s shoulders to shake Bubble’s hand. 

Curt, who was so obviously the drunkest, had them all laughing as he parroted Bubbles’ words back to him, the man from Kentucky laughing after he released Bucky’s hand, shaking his head in Crosby’s direction as he grinned widely, cheeks flushed from the alcohol. 

“So…let me get this straight,” the ginger haired, baby faced pilot beside Bubbles motioned between Buck and Bucky, “You’re Buck and he’s Bucky…?”

Frank could feel Bucky’s sigh without having to see or hear it and she squeezed his thigh soothingly as his arm returned to the back of her chair, fingers lightly grazing her shoulder. DeMarco answered before anyone else could, everyone nodding affirmatively to the RAF pilot’s question, “That’s right.”

“Is there a shortage of nicknames in the one-hundredth?”

The RAF pilots laughed amongst themselves and Frank could feel the atmosphere change quickly, catching the look on both Kidd and Curt’s faces, the way Bubble and Crosby exchanged a glance, and she didn’t need to look at Bucky to confirm he wasn’t having as much fun anymore. “No,” his answer was quick and soft and she felt his arm move off her chair again as he shifted, his large palm sliding over top of the hand she had on his leg, fingers curling around hers in a light squeeze, “just a shortage of crews.”

The silence spread into awkward territory as Frank snuck a glance towards Buck, and it was probably the first time she’d ever seen the blonde so zeroed in on someone before, his full and complete attention on the pilots across the table, pint glasses in hand. 

“Pity.”

It was probably the absolute worst thing one could have said in the moment. Especially after the men surrounding her lost seven of their own in a practice mission just a handful of hours ago, dozens more killed in the missions that took place that month, even more in the month before that.

“Pity…” Bucky seemed to taste the word slowly, like one normally did with a fine wine and Frank felt his fingers squeeze hers, his palm sweaty, “pity, pity, pity, pity…pity, pity. What…?”

“I said it’s a pity,” the man in the middle, the one with the pipe and the larger glass clarified and Frank wished with everything she had that he’d either stop talking or choke on the liquid. Anything to stop this conversation from getting worse. “You’d have more if you flew your missions at night.”

Curt’s sharp inhale spoke volumes for the group’s opinion on the man’s statement and clearly it was a sore subject. A glance to the right had her almost sure Kidd was about to remove himself entirely from the table and discussion, smiles wiped clear off the faces of Bubbles and Crosby, both men staring down at the table. Buck was still as silent as ever, but she could tell by his posture that he was coiled, even DeMarco who’d been fairly at ease beside her was tense.  

Bucky’s grip, if possible, tightened even more and Frank gently turned her hand over, their fingers lacing together as he sighed heavily, “Why’d you have to go and say something like that?”

“Well…” The RAF pilot shifted up in his chair, eyes trained on Bucky, “perhaps I was getting bored of all the heavy petting going on at your end of the table…”

Frank felt her heart stop, unsure if the man was talking about how close she and Bucky were seated or if he was referring to the overall closeness of the boys, her neck warming from embarrassment. None of the boys had commented on it, and she was sure if they were uncomfortable one of them definitely would have said something, or at the very least made a backhanded comment.

Before she or anyone else was able to step in, Bucky responded with a quick, albeit slightly annoyed, “I don’t even know what that means. What does it mean?” His eyes turned to Bubbles and then DeMarco, “You know what that means?” Both boys shook their heads, but even if they did Bucky didn’t give anyone time to say anything, his attention back on the pilot who was slowly becoming Frank’s least favorite, “What does that mean?”

With tension at an all time high, Frank couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her when the pilot leaned across the table and did absolutely nothing to defuse the situation, “Let’s make a bit of sport ourselves. How about it? Any one of you will do…although we can leave the lovely lady out of it…”

Bucky leaned over to match the man's posture, “She’d probably kick your ass better than I could—”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Buck interrupted Bucky with a slap on the back as he got to his feet, Curt and Bucky both moving to do the same before Buck grasped onto Bucky’s shoulder and pushed him back into his seat. Frank was vaguely aware of Curt negotiating with Buck as they stumbled around the chairs, but her attention was on Bucky and only Bucky, her hand lifting to graze his cheek as he looked back at her. 

“I’m gonna have to straighten this out,” his voice was low and she walked her fingers to his chin, pressing a feather light kiss to his lips. 

“Try not to get blood on your uniform.” She liked the way the corner of his mouth lifted, some of the heaviness from earlier disappearing from his shoulders, although she knew he would definitely be taking the man’s words to heart, “It’s unsightly.”

Bucky stood and Frank followed, her hand gliding along his chest and over his shoulder, the rest of the boys around the table already standing and on their way to the door, “Wanna come watch an RAF prick get what’s comin’ to him? Buck throws a mean punch.”

Frank shook her head. “As exciting as it sounds, I’m going to head upstairs.” Bucky hesitated, glancing sideways towards the stairs that led up to their room and she lifted herself up to press a suggestive kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Don’t take too long, alright? I’ll meet you upstairs.”

Notes:

Before I realized it, this chapter was over 12,000 words long, SO I split it. Hahaha. We'll get the night continued next chapter, as well as Frank and Bucky's conversation about events that happened in chapter 28. I hope you still enjoyed the chapter and weren't disappointed! I am very excited for the next one!

Let me know your thoughts!! We're well into episode two now, and I'm excited to start moving through the episodes now that we've given Bucky and Frank some time to get to know one another.

As always, thank you for reading! And if you'd like to chat about our characters or story, you can always find me on Tumblr here!

Chapter 30: XXX

XXX.

Frank felt her heart racing as she bit down on her lip, hands running along the warm jacket, tracing the soft fabric. It felt strange against her mostly naked body—her nipples finding a bit of friction that had heat pooling in her lower stomach, hands sliding across her hips as it hugged her curves in a way she hoped he would like. 

Part of her felt a little ridiculous, a little silly as she stood in front of the mirror. The jacket was oversized, but not incredibly so, falling just over her hips, the edges just barely covering the space between her thighs, and when she turned she knew more than half her ass was out, fully putting her favorite garter belt and stockings on display. 

“He’s seen you naked,” Frank reminded herself slowly, breathing in and then out as she spoke to herself in the mirror, “it can’t possibly be worse than that, right?” 

A light knock sounded on the door and Frank bit down on her lip, hard enough indentations from her teeth appeared. “Yes?” She called softly. 

Another knock, this one lingering as Bucky’s familiar voice called out, “Housekeeping.” 

Frank laughed softly, shaking her head as she exited the bathroom before crossing the room to the floor, “I don’t believe I requested anything…you must be at the wrong door…” 

Bucky laughed and she could tell he was just as tipsy as she was, although the alcohol really wasn’t doing anything for her nerves at that moment. “What’s a guy gotta do to convince the most beautiful girl in the world to open the door, huh?”

She blushed, shaking her head at him as her stomach knots untied briefly to flutter about, reaching the door a moment later to unlock it, taking one more deep breath before she convinced herself to pull it open, “Good evening, Major.”

Bucky was leaning against the door, hair falling across his forehead and between his eyes, one arm leaning casually against the doorway while the other was inside his pocket and Frank felt her cheeks flame even more when his eyes dropped from her face to her figure, raking across her standing there in just his sheepskin jacket. He was slow to move, his gaze studying every inch of her as if he were committing her to memory and Frank shifted nervously, the heels she kept on from earlier feeling just a little uncomfortable now. 

“Oh… fuck.” Bucky pushed himself off the door frame, hand running along his jaw as he met her eyes before looking back down at her, his tongue just barely shooting out to run along his lower lip. 

“Is it bad?”

“Bad?” Bucky nearly choked, tripping into the room before he scrambled to close the door, both of his hands sliding along his face before running through his hair. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her legs and the sliver of exposed skin along her chest, “No—no, no, no. This is the opposite of bad. This is good. So, so, so good.” He moved closer to her, hands at his sides, fingers flexing as he opened and closed his hands, eyes meeting hers again, “I don’t even know how you…fuck.” 

Frank’s head tilted back as his hands cupped her face, their lips meeting in a needy, desperate kiss that had her toes curling inside her shoes, her hands lifting to rest along his wrists as he deepend it almost immediately, neither of them pulling away until they had to breathe. “This is ok?”

“What?” Bucky shook his head back and forth, his hands sliding down her face to rest along her neck, taking a step back to look down at her, unsure of where he wanted to focus on first. “You wearing my jacket? Yes— yes , this is very much ok, baby.” He kissed her again, slowing down the speed just a little before his thumb ran along the front of her throat, his nose brushing hers gently when they parted, “Am I allowed to touch…?”

“Of course,” Frank half whispered, half laughed, swallowing thickly as his hands continued down her throat and onto her shoulders, feeling just a little bolder she pushed herself onto her toes to peck his lips, “it is your jacket, after all, Major.”

Bucky groaned, his hands sliding down her arms and across her hips before he grazed her exposed thighs, snapping the strap of one of her garters, slowly backing her up towards the bed, “I knew I saw something, you had this on earlier?”

“Mhmm,” Frank gasped when he stole a kiss from her, free arm wrapping around her waist to drag her against him. “Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” Bucky moved his hand from her thigh to the zipper she had pulled up to her sternum, fingers toying with it gently until he grasped it between his thumb and index, slowly tugging it down, “I fucking love it. Drives me mad.” His eyes were firmly on the zipper as he dragged it down her chest, taking in the sight of her skin as he did. 

Frank sighed softly as Bucky continued to inch the zipper down, revealing nothing but bare skin until it was completely unzipped, hanging open. Bucky slipped his hands inside the jacket to rest on her hips, fingers gliding across the garter belt that rested low on her waist, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything sexier.” His voice was low and Frank bit down on her lip as he swiped his thumb across her belly button, “First the romper and now this…?”

“I have a collection,” Frank found herself sharing and Bucky’s eyes darted to her face at the confession, “and I might have gotten a little carried away with it over the last year…”

“You can’t tell me that,” Bucky groaned as his hands flattened out on her waist before slipping fully around her, trailing down her back until he grasped the curve of her backside, “I’m already about to come right here at just the sight of you in this…”

“It’s not too much?”

“Never.” He dropped his head to kiss her slowly, invading her space as he pulled her body against his and even through his thick trousers Frank could feel how turned on he was, her fingers just lightly brushing against him. When they parted, Frank gently unbuttoned his uniformed jacket, Bucky letting her push it over his shoulders before she went to work on his belt, letting him unbutton his sleeve cuffs and shirt buttons while she did, “How did you even get this…?”

“You left it here earlier,” Frank lifted a shoulder and he chuckled softly, nodding now that she mentioned it, “and I saw it on the chair while I was changing and just had an…idea.”

“The best idea,” Bucky groaned when she slipped her fingers into his shorts, teasing him as their lips brushed against one another, “looks a million times better on you.”

“It’s very soft. Very warm.”

“Mhmm,” Bucky grinned as she pulled his shorts down and he kicked away his clothing, pulling his socks off after throwing his shoes out of his way. “God I hope it smells like you after this.”

Frank squealed when Bucky scooped her up into his arms, successfully depositing her onto the bed, jacket still on and when she went to shrug it off he shook his head, crawling over her as he kissed his way up from her belly button to the stretch of skin between her breasts, “It stays on the entire time, Captain.”

Frank stroked the side of his face, fingers dragging into his hair as he nuzzled his way to one of her breasts, mouthing at the swell of it before finding her nipple, “Yes, sir.”

“Fuck,” he shook his head, eyes shooting up to look at her and she felt just how hard he was against her inner thigh, his teeth grazing her nipple intentionally, “I like that.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

Frank tilted her head back, fingers carding through his hair as Bucky moved from one breast to the other, his heavy jacket falling open on it’s own as he moved his way down, worshiping every inch of her body he could reach with his hands and mouth, fingers gliding and twisting along her lingerie, his long nose dragging across the crease of her leg as he pushed them apart to make way for his broad shoulders before he nuzzled and kissed his way along her thighs, long fingers stroking the smooth texture of her stockings. 

Despite the thick, heavy material of his jacket, Frank broke out into goosebumps when he kissed the space between her legs, her nails gliding along the back of his neck before her fingers disappeared into his hair, tugging and gripping it as he thoroughly explored her with first his mouth and then his fingers, eyes lifting to watch as her first orgasm washed over her. “That’s my girl,” Bucky whispered against her inner thigh, Frank’s entire body heaving as she attempted to get herself under control, one arm resting over her eyes as she attempted to come back down to earth. 

Bucky gently unhooked the stockings before he rolled them down her legs, pausing momentarily to gently unbuckle her shoes, the pair landing with a thud on the rug before he gently dropped her stockings to the ground, making sure they were safe and out of the way before he tugged the garter belt down her hips. She hummed when he crawled over her, hovering above as he kissed her forehead, nose, and then lips. They both sighed when the kiss deepened and it didn’t take long for Bucky to roll them, his neck stretched out as he rested back against the pillows, watching her sit up against his hips. 

His large hands covered her thighs, stroking the freshly uncovered skin as he took in the sight of her not only on top of him, but wearing his jacket. “Next time I’ll leave my hat.”

Frank laughed at that and she raked her fingers down his chest and across his torso, “Whatever you want, Major.”

Bucky’s grin widened out and he squeezed the flesh along her upper thighs, “Careful, I might start to get used to that…”

Frank’s hands wandered further down his abdomen, glancing up at him through her eyelashes as she lightly grazed his penis, feeling him harden that much more when as she teased her way up and down his shaft, thumb swiping along the tip, “Used to what…Major?”

Bucky groaned when she squeezed him intentionally and he ran his hands over her hips to rest just inside his jacket, squeezing her waist, “Sounds so good comin’ out of your mouth.” His lips parted in a soft groan when she gently caressed his slit, “Fuck—Stella.”

Frank glanced over her shoulder to search for his uniform jacket, her eyes finding his several moments later, “Condom…?”

Bucky sat up against the headboard before fishing out one of the boxes from the inside pocket of his sheepskin jacket and she chuckled softly when he revealed it, letting her roll it down his penis before she sat up onto her knees, Bucky’s hand gripping her backside and hips as he guided her onto him and their sighs turned into breathy moans, Frank using his shoulders to get the leverage she needed, Bucky nodding his approval before his head fell back against the headboard. 

“You are so beautiful on top of me,” Bucky pushed himself up to kiss his way around her chest and neck, holding her as close as he could as they continued. They were both warm, hair pressed to their faces and necks due to their activity and the thick jacket, and when the left side fell off her shoulder he immediately kissed his way across the exposed skin. 

They moved in time with each other and Frank tugged at his hair as he looped both of his arms around her waist, mouths pressed against one another as they continued to move in a way that was becoming incredibly familiar, Frank squeezing her eyes when he shifted the angle, her sweaty forehead pressing to his as she tried to prolong her orgasm as best she could, not wanting this moment between them to end, both of them lost in a cloud of alcohol and passion, where the only thing that mattered was the other person. “I’m gettin’ close, angel,” Bucky’s voice broke through the haze, his hand cupping the back of her neck as she nodded in agreement with him, lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as she increased the speed, one hand reaching out to grasp onto the edge of the headboard as Bucky nodded his approval. 

“Me…” Frank gasped when he shifted his legs under her, feeling him all the way inside her as she cried out, “too.”

It didn’t take but a handful more thrusts before Frank started to lose the rhythm, Bucky dragging her body against his own as he took over and with one hand moving to cup the side of her jaw and the other wrapped tightly around her did he kiss her chin, “Look at me, Stella. Wanna see your eyes.” She opened them, lips parting as they stared at one another and it wasn’t but a few seconds later that she let go, crying out against his mouth as they came together. 

They kissed their way through the ecstasy, their bodies eventually coming to a stop and Frank breathed happily when he pushed his jacket the rest of the way off her, tossing it towards the edge of the bed to give her body time to breathe without the thick material. “Good?”

She nodded, hand lifting to push her hair off her shoulders and away from her forehead, her entire body much hotter and sweatier than normal, her breath coming out in shallow pants as she tried to inhale as much air as she could. “Really good.”

Bucky kissed her neck and ear before he fell back against the headboard, dragging her with him, his hand sliding through her hair as their eyes met, “Borrow my clothes anytime, Captain.”

Frank chuckled, her breath still not quite fully returned and she kissed his nose playfully, “Yes, sir.”

Bucky swatted her backside playfully, the smack echoing around the room and she only broke out into a full laugh, Bucky joining in as he soothed the sting with his palm, kneading the flesh, “I think we might need a shower after that…”

“I think you’re right.” He helped her climb off him, and she leaned against the side of the bed a moment later, legs very much feeling like Jello, “once I can walk again, that is.” Bucky only grinned in return and she pushed on his shoulder when he moved around her to dispose of the condom, “Proud of yourself?”

“Little bit.” He tied the condom off before tossing it into the bin, moving back to her after he was done. He kissed her temple before cupping her face in his hands, “Take all the time you need, doll. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

---

Frank listened to the sound of the shower running early the next morning, propped up against the headboard as she read through the newspaper. Bucky left to go find them coffee and something to eat, returning with that and a newspaper before he kissed her deeply, spent an indistinguishable amount of time between her legs, and then moved into the shower to wash off their earlier activities. She turned the page as the water shut off, eyes trailing down the columns for anything that might catch her eye and she was so into one article about a local farmer’s wife when she felt tiny drops of warm water land on her bare shoulder. 

She looked up to see Bucky hovering over her, towel wrapped around and resting low on his hips as the beads fell from the ends of his hair, but before she could comment on it he leaned down to kiss the same space the droplets fell, long nose trailing along her shoulder to her neck. “Anything good?”

“Better than it has been,” Frank closed her eyes when she felt his lips drift across her neck, his nose bumping her head back as he worked his way along her throat. “You just took a shower…”

Bucky pulled away to peck her lips, a knowing grin across his face as he watched her shift over in the bed, the sheets pulled up to her chest, covering her body from his gaze. “But you’re still naked…” Frank sighed when he slid into the space beside her, his warm and slightly damp chest pressed to her bare back before she settled into his arm, “What time is the train?”

“Noon,” Frank closed the paper, fingers tracing a light circle along his bicep as his knee bumped into hers, “so I’ll be a little late getting back to base…”

“Mmm,” Bucky’s fingers walked their way to the edge of the sheet, gently pulling the soft white material down enough that he could see the swells of her breasts, another lingering kiss landing to her shoulder, “so you’re saying I have another hour…”

“You have a meeting,” Frank caught his chin before he could drop his head to her chest, her lips meeting his softly as she said, “and we’re out of condoms.”

“There’s a lot I can still do without…” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows and she snorted, “Go on and lay back, I’ll show you…”

Frank giggled as she felt her back land flat on the bed, her legs automatically parting for him as he hovered above her, his wide grin making her heart flutter and stomach tumble, but before he could kiss her deeply and make her forget the time, as he’d done earlier, she caught his chin again and kissed his mustache, “Neither of us can afford to be in any trouble, Major.”

“Mmm.” Bucky lowered himself to rest on his forearms, his hand caressing the side of her face and hairline and Frank could see the shift in his eyes as they moved back into reality, “Speaking of trouble. Walk me through what happened the other day that you couldn’t discuss over the phone.”

Frank felt the pad of his thumb graze her temple and she lifted a hand to press a finger into his chest, “How about you walk me through how you know Lee isn’t on my base anymore.”

Bucky laughed and Frank could absolutely pick up on the embarrassment of it, his cheeks tinting slightly, “I uh—spoke with Dorothy not long after we started talking.”

“I remember.”

“We discussed it, a little.” Bucky lifted a shoulder, “She didn’t tell me much—wouldn’t tell me much. Just that he wasn’t an issue any longer.”

Frank’s eyes shifted from his, gathering her thoughts as she felt Bucky lower his head to press a soft kiss to her neck, “We don’t have to talk about that, angel.”

“He’s such a prick.” Frank lifted a hand to press to her forehead and Bucky hummed in response, “Even when he’s gone he’s never gone. It was just…something that happened shortly after I was assigned to base. He was my CO, he wanted to sleep with me. It was something he’d done to a lot of girls before me and probably is continuing to do, and when I turned him down he was really upset about it.”

Bucky pushed himself up onto an arm, frown deepening, “He didn’t force himself—”

“No,” Frank lifted a hand to cup his jaw, Bucky turning his face to kiss the center of her palm, “no. He cornered me, unzipped his pants, insinuated that I’d be back on a boat home if I refused, but he didn’t stop me when I left.”

Bucky inhaled deeply, shaking his head, “I’m going to add him to my list of—”

Frank sat up, hands running along his shoulders, “You’re not going to do anything. It’s handled and I want to forget about it. If Dorothy’s correct, I won’t ever have to see him or speak with him again. Ok? It’s in the past, it’s going to stay in the past.”

Bucky pressed his forehead to hers, “Stella…”

She kissed his upper lip, shaking her head, “This isn’t something you need to solve. It’s been handled and if he appears again I’ll handle it then.”

Bucky settled onto his side on the bed, pulling Frank into him as he kissed her forehead, lips resting there, “You’re a hell of a woman, Stella Frank.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, moving to gently bring the sheets up to her chest despite Bucky’s whine when she did, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” He ran his fingers down her arm until he found her waist, fingers sliding under the sheet to feel her bare skin, “Hit me with the next one.” Frank tangled her legs with his, Bucky’s towel having loosened and dropped lower in their quick movements to the point it was just barely holding together and she was momentarily distracted by the hard line that separated his hip and abdomen. Bucky shifted his other arm to bring her closer, “Unless you’d like to discuss something else…”

“You’re such a distraction,” Frank half laughed, half gasped with his hand slipped over her hip and along the crease of her leg, “don’t make me put you in time out for being naughty. You were that boy in class, weren’t you?”

Bucky groaned, rolling until he was fully over her, “Please, please, put me in time out. Better yet, why don’t we get you a ruler…”

Frank laughed, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers sinking into his curls as he kissed her chin, “Talking to you is easy,” Frank found herself admitting and he nuzzled her in response. 

“Best part of my week, angel,” Bucky moved again, this time leaning beside her, propping himself up on an elbow, “I promise to keep my hands to myself—mostly. Tell me what happened.”

Frank shook her head, gathering her thoughts, “Amelia’s seeing someone. She promises it’s casual, but Rose is concerned. She doesn’t like him, thinks he’s up to something and at the very least is just highly annoying—”

“Sorry, Benny.”

“—he’s an ATA pilot now, but was part of the USAAF before getting hurt in the Pacific. He’s already training on the B-17s, and Rose doesn’t agree with it. Especially with how long it’s taken her to move through that process.”

“Understandable,” Bucky’s fingers glided along her arm, “there’s a reason there are processes in place.”

“Right,” Frank sighed, “but Amelia, and to a certain degree, Dorothy, both think it’s because of his past experience and our need for qualified pilots.”

Bucky rolled his head around, as if he were processing it and Frank watched the wheels turn in his head, “I mean…yes, that’s a good thought to have. But there are ranks for a reason. That’s why there’s training. You started at the bottom, and your friends who have more experience also started there…”

“Which is Rose’s frustration,” Frank nodded, “so I really didn’t think much about it. We met him after the night Rose was here. He’s fine, I suppose. Excited. Which we all were and still are at some point…”

Bucky shrugged, his eyes glued to her face, “But…”

“Dorothy pulled me aside,” Frank found her voice lowering, despite the room only having the two of them in it and Bucky’s fingers stilled, his full attention moving back to her face, “and she also doesn’t understand why he’s been given the green light to proceed with this specialized training. She has concerns, and she…implied that there could be something nefarious going on.”

“Nefarious how?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, “Like there’s something wrong? The paperwork is wrong…?”

“I don’t know.” Frank said, “Dorothy just told me to watch him. We flew the other day together and she wanted to make sure that I understood he was just an observational pilot and nothing more and if anything odd appeared I was to let her know right away.”

Bucky was silent for a long time, and despite his eyes focused on her, Frank could tell he was deep in thought, those two lines that often appeared between his eyebrows remaining as he alternated between searching her face and glancing off to the side. Despite not knowing him for very long and knowing even less about his schooling and previous life, she knew he was smart. Knew that he was in the position and rank he was in for a reason and if there was anyone she trusted with this information outside of the ATA, it was absolutely him. 

“Alright.” Bucky shifted and Frank watched him adjust the towel to keep it from falling, their previous mood clearly changed as he ran a hand through his rapidly drying hair, “Walk me through this. When did he arrive?”

“A few weeks ago?”

“And he was a pilot before?”

“In the Pacific.”

Bucky exhaled, tilting his head side to side before he seemed to accept her response, “Where’s he from?”

“New England,” Frank said, “Maine, I believe? He asked about my family, where I was from, asked about you—”

“Me?”

“We were talking on one of the legs,” Frank said, “he wanted to know where we met, where you were, what you do, things like that.”

Bucky ran hand along his shoulder, scratching at a spot on his bicep before he looked back at her, “Did Dorothy give any indication why she made sure you knew to keep a closer eye on him?”

“None.” Frank said, “It’s what had me unsettled when we spoke. I don’t know what’s going on and Dorothy says she doesn’t either.”

“I’m not so sure I’d believe that, doll,” Bucky said, “it sounds like Dorothy definitely has an idea about something.”

“Do you think any of it’s odd?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “could be. Also maybe not. Lots of guys are just weird, especially after they’re injured. If he was planning on pitching and was then benched, but offered a spot to pinch hit later on, I could understand the excitement, and by extension, awkwardness.”

Frank only blinked, “I don’t think I understood a word of that.”

Bucky laughed, holding out his hand for her and she took it easily, their fingers tangling as he pulled her towards him, the sheet finally falling away from her body, “Baseball metaphor. You’ll pick up on ‘em more after we go to our game.”

Frank looped her arms around his neck and Bucky locked his fingers together at the small of her back, “What do you suggest I do going forward?”

“Well, first,” Bucky kissed her jaw, “I think you should listen to your CO. She’s there for a reason and Dorothy seems like a pretty genuine person. If her gut’s telling her something, I’d listen to it.” He kissed her shoulder next, “Second, I’d listen to your own gut. You’ve been through a lot of shit, doll, and you’re here for a reason. You know things, you’re good at this, and if he makes you feel uneasy there’s probably a reason for it.”

Frank nodded in agreement, sighing softly as he pressed another kiss to her sternum, just above the space her heart was, “Is there a third?”

Bucky lifted his head before dropping a kiss to her lips, his hands moving to curve over her hips and Frank chuckled softly as she found herself moving back against the headboard, “Third, you’re gonna lay back down and be good for me before I send you back home.”

---

“I’ll tell your sister you say hello,” Frank kissed Bucky’s cheek, one of his arms resting around her waist comfortably as they walked away from the Jeep and towards the train station, both of them back in uniform, the sun shining brightly overhead. 

“If you’d like,” Bucky said and Frank gave him a playful look. “I’m trying to find a few days before the month’s over to get a weekend pass to see her. Take her out to dinner and all. Passes are frozen for the moment, but there’s whispers that they’ll lift the freeze soon.”

“I’m sure she’d love that,” Frank watched Bucky drop her bag onto the ground before he looped his other arm around her, pulling her into his chest, “she talks highly of you.” Bucky didn’t have a response, his cheeks tinting and she rested her hands flat on his chest, fingers brushing his shoulders, “You’re cute when you blush, Major.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Frank laughed, shaking her head before she pushed herself up onto her toes, “Behave in the air—I don’t want any reports from Buck that you’re giving him a hard time.”

“What’s gonna happen if I do?” He wiggled his eyebrows and Frank continued to smile, “The ruler?”

“Perhaps,” Frank smoothed her hands over his shoulders, “I guess you’ll have to find out...”

Bucky growled playfully into her neck before he kissed and nipped her ear, Frank giggling as he did and when they parted he rested his forehead against hers, “Fly safe, ok? Remember what we talked about. Listen to your gut.”

“I’ll do my best,” Frank brushed her lips across his and his eyes fluttered closed, “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can, but it’s probably best not to mention any of this over the phone.”

Bucky nodded his understanding and Frank could feel the moment the atmosphere electrified, the man in front of her lowering his head to swoop in for a passionate kiss, one that had her curling her toes inside her shoes and her heart skipping a beat. When he went to deepen it further, Frank pulled away, kissing his chin and then the tip of his nose, her fingers wrapping around his tie before she tugged on it playfully, “Easy, Major…”

“Gotta get a weekend pass,” Bucky shook his head, his eyes twinkling as she released his tie, “you and me, pretty sights, nice dinner…spacious hotel room…”

“Sounds like a wonderful plan,” Frank reached for her suitcase and Bucky pulled her back to him, their fingers lacing, “I very much look forward to that.”

Bucky kissed her twice more before she pulled away, squeezing his fingers and he adjusted his hat as he watched her go, blowing a kiss in her direction when she stopped to turn and wiggle her fingers before disappearing inside the station. Neither sure when they would see each other again, but both hoping it would be sooner than later. Bucky gave himself a handful of seconds to compose himself before he moved, mentally going through the list of things he needed to do today, and as he approached the Jeep he gave one last glance over his shoulder, his own stomach souring slightly as he thought about their earlier conversation, his own gut telling him something was definitely wrong at Ratcliffe. 

Notes:

Thank you all for staying with me! I've been trying to update my portfolio and resume and get a new cover letter started while I look for a new job! I'm needing to make a little more money, and until this writing thing becomes a full-time thing, I gotta spend some time working on that. So thank you for your patience! It may be a little longer between updates while I work on finding a new job, but I promise I'm still here and will not abandon our couple!

As always, thank you for reading! And if you'd like to chat about our characters or story, you can always find me on Tumblr here and I also post updates and answer questions about new chapters!

And If you'd like to read a letter Frances wrote to their mother, you can read that here!

Chapter 31: XXXI

XXXI.

“Frank!” Frank dropped her head in annoyance, slowly closing her book as she pivoted in her chair to look behind her. One of the newer pilots, a beautiful girl from Canada by the name of Rhonda, lifted her hand, a letter sitting between her index and middle fingers, “Letter.”

The chair scraped against the floor as Frank moved out of it, a frown settling across her face as to who could be writing her a letter. She spoke with Bucky a few mornings ago, and while she hadn’t been back to Thorpe Abbotts to see him since their last meeting, getting a letter from him would be a little odd. No one back home even knew she was here, so Frank was about half ready to say it was a mistake when she caught sight of the writing, her heartbeat easing up slightly. 

“Thank you, Rhonda.”

“Who’s it from?” A curious voice asked from the far side of the room where Rose was currently acting as a mannequin. Their Projectionist Librarian, Mary, was busy working to pin together a sleeve on a jacket, and to say that Rose was bored was an understatement. 

“None of your business,” Frank moved back to the chair, sliding her book aside as she worked to open it from one end, fingers reaching in for the papers, “don’t move, or else Mary will stick you.”

“I might just stick her anyway,” Mary grunted. Born and raised in Scotland, Mary’s accent was thick and so much different than anything they had in the US, something that Rose often liked to tell her when she was feeling particularly chaotic after several drinks. 

“Cow.” Rose nudged the toe of her shoe against Mary’s bent knee and Mary gave her a warning poke, Rose laughing softly before looking back to Frank, “Out with it. Who is it?”

“Bucky,” Frank unfolded the paper, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she stared down at a series of photographs. He enclosed them in a short letter, explaining they had someone out to take photos and sketches for hometown newspapers in the United States, and had weaseled his way into getting a few sent to her. “He sent photos of him and the boys, the poor photographer must’ve been exhausted after this.”

“I want to see!”

“Don’t you dare move!”

Rose sighed in frustration, and Frank spared her friend the anguish by walking over, flipping through the three photos, a larger smile appearing across her face with each one she looked at. Rose looked over Frank’s shoulder, Frank holding them out for her and Rose let out a short laugh at the second one, a group photo of the boys that was on the sillier side. Bucky wrote along the bottom: New Bond Poster. It featured all of the boys in their sunglasses, giving what Frank assumed to be their most attractive smile, except poor Curt had decided to sneeze just as the photo was taken. 

“The poor thing,” Rose took the photo, holding it with the hand Mary wasn’t using, “he doesn’t photograph well, does he?”

“Not here at least,” Frank gently ran her thumb along the edge of the photo of just Bucky. It was more candid, or at least posed to appear that way, and he had a massive smile on his face, one of his longer curls falling across his forehead. He wore his beloved jacket and Frank could feel herself warming slightly. 

“Is he nude?”

“No!” Frank swatted Rose with the photo, taking the one in her hand back, “Must you live in the sewers?”

“It’s roomy.” Rose motioned to the photo, “What’s the story then? Why’d you get all jello-y?” Frank handed her the photo and Rose hummed in acknowledgement, recalling the conversation from several breakfasts ago where Rose had managed to get details out of Frank about how her visit had gone, “The jacket, huh?”

Mary lifted her eyes, glancing back and forth between them as Rose showed her the photo, “What about the jacket…?”

“Frank wore it,” Rose giggled as Frank sighed, taking the photo back from her, “and nothing else.”

“Please tell everyone, Rose,” Frank sighed, folding her arms across herself, “I don’t think Evelyn heard you in the back.”

“Evelyn would gasp, if she heard, so you're safe,” Mary said, moving to circle around Rose, eyeing the stitch she just finished. “He’s handsome, does he treat you well?”

“Mhmm,” Frank toyed with the edge of the photo of Bucky and Buck together, making a mental note to share the photos with Frances later, “he does.”

“What are we doing tonight?” Rose asked as Mary gently removed the jacket from her, happy with the measurements and length, “Please tell me we’re not just staying in and listening to the radio…”

“I have no idea,” Frank slipped her hands into her pockets, “I haven’t seen Dot or Amelia all day and with the fog I’ve been grounded. I did hear that Laura and Beth were able to take off an hour ago, but all of my legs were canceled.”

“Thank you, Rose,” Mary called as she left, not bothering to say more, wanting to get back to finishing her jacket. 

Rose looped her arm through Frank’s, “Grab your book, let’s head to dinner and see what we can find out.”

The walk across base should have been short, but Rose greeted everyone as she if she were the mayor, stopping to chat with a few women here and there to ask them questions about ongoing discussions, and by the time they reached the Officers’ Mess, both Dorothy and Amelia were seated with dinner plates. “I was worried you two were locked in somewhere again,” Dorothy looked between them in concern, eyeing the envelope in Frank’s hands, “What’s that?”

“Photos.” Frank handed them over and Dorothy wiped her hands before looking at them, chuckling softly at the group photo, “and that’s Curt.”

“Oh dear,” Dorothy laughed and Amelia looked over her shoulder after cutting into her food, “the poor thing—does he always look like that?”

“No,” Rose rolled her eyes, “he’s sneezing.”

Amelia laughed, the girls looking over the last two photos before Dorothy handed them back, “That’s nice he sent them, did they have a photographer come around?”

“For a few papers back home,” Frank said, one of the servers wandering over to fill their drinks, “he said Benny was chosen for one of their features.”

“Which one is he?” Frank pointed out DeMarco on the far side and Dorothy nodded, “And he’s the one with the dog?”

“The one Amelia refuses to sleep with.”

Amelia only rolled her eyes, ignoring Rose’s statement. Things were mostly back to normal with their group. There hadn’t been any outbursts since the last and overall it seemed like Rose and Amelia mutually agreed not to discuss Amelia’s pilot, something Dorothy was grateful for.

“Speaking of our friends to the East.” Dorothy scooped a bit of vegetable onto her fork, taking a bite before she continued, “I was in a two hour meeting earlier today about some of the RAF bases. With Thorpe officially being handed over to the USAAF a few days ago—the RAF needs some help distributing things among the remaining bases in the area.”

Rose took a sip of water, lifting an eyebrow, “What kind of things?”

“Files, paperwork, equipment.” Dorothy lifted a shoulder, “They’ve decided to send quite a bit here, since we’re one of the larger bases in the region. Some of it is quite sensitive, would you two like to do the honors?”

“Oh!” Rose’s eyes lit up, as if she just realized what Dorothy was implying and Frank laughed beside her, “Yes. Please.”

“I thought so,” Dorothy nudged Amelia as if they had discussed it previously and Amelia only smiled back knowingly, “you’ll fly out tomorrow, so be good tonight. There will be more brass than normal in the area since there was so much pomp and circumstance earlier this week.”

“So in other words,” Frank sent Rose a look, “behave.”

“Me?” Rose gasped, laying both hands along her chest, “Your honor, am I the one who stole an officer’s jacket and then proceeded to ride him—”

Rose’s dinner plate clattered against the charger and Dorothy closed her eyes tightly, all the girls looking to the server as he managed to get control of himself a second later, placing Frank’s plate down in front of her next. “Thank you,” Frank said softly, shooting Rose a dirty look once he walked away, “was that really necessary?”

“We aren’t in court, Rose” Dorothy said, “both of you behave.”

Rose only brought her fork to her mouth, sending Frank a wink in response. 

---

“Motherfucker.”

Frank slammed the door closed, boots echoing across the walkway as she made her way as quickly as she could towards the hardstands where the two Hawker Typhoons sat, ready for their early morning flight. The sun was up, but the air was still chilly, Frank’s thicker jacket pulled on over her shoulders as she saw Rose come into view, her friend leaning casually against one of the planes, a half-smoked cigarette between her fingers. 

“You look happy,” Rose commented around the cigarette as she ashed it, looking Frank over from head to toe, “someone piss in your coffee? Or did you just fall off the roof?”

“The latter,” Frank drug a hand through her hair, the baby strands around her ears and temples pulling from her bun, “do you have a tampon with you?”

Rose tucked her cigarette between her lips as she squatted down to unzip her bag, rummaging around to see what she had. They all carried mostly the same things, but depending on the person, their personal necessities varied. Frank often had a book and extra bandages, whereas Frank knew Rose carried a bottle of perfume and a few extra condoms, just in case. “Yeah, I have a couple Secrets, will that do?”

“I don’t even care,” Frank watched Rose pull a few from the box before standing up to hand over it over, “At this point I’m about to shove some paper up there.”

“Don’t do that,” Rose pulled her cigarette, breathing out smoke as Frank stashed the tampons in her pocket, “you’ll scratch yourself, it’ll get infected, and then you’ll have to explain to the nurse that you are sexually active without a husband and then it’s a whole thing…”

Frank couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “Speaking from experience, are we?”

Rose only held a finger up to her lips, mimicking the girl on the familiar product box, and Frank continued to laugh, shaking her head. “Go pop it in and then we’ll take off.”

“I’ll be right back!” 

By the time Frank returned, feeling much better about her trip to Norfolk now, Rose had already completed her preflight checks and was inside her plane, the one beside hers waiting for its pilot. Frank stowed her bag before going through her own checklist, fingers running across the edge of the wing on her second walk around before she climbed inside, settling into the fighter’s single seat. It was still fairly chilly outside, despite it being late July, and Frank couldn’t help but shiver at how much colder it was about to be aloft in the open air cockpit. She pulled her helmet on, making sure her scarf and gloves were set before she glanced over at Rose, nearly bursting out laughing at the way her friend was drumming her fingers against the yoke, flat look across her face as if she’d been waiting hours for Frank to hurry up. 

“You can go at any time,” Frank yelled to her as she went through her checklist, “don’t feel the need to wait.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Rose leaned forward to flip a few switches, both girls having memorized the checklist long ago, “If I leave, I can’t race you and win.”

“You lost pretty badly the last time we raced, if I’m remembering correctly,” Frank unclipped her sunglasses from her shirt while Rose scoffed, and despite the distance, she could hear her friend mimicking her under her breath.

“You’ve been flying big planes,” Rose said, “you’re not used to the fighters. I wager that I'll get there a whole two minutes before you do.”

Frank knocked her glasses back up her nose with her knuckle, a playful smile falling across her lips, her voice shifting to take on Dorothy’s accented one, “Only one of us has out flown a Messerschmitt, darling.”

“Oh, ho, ho,” Rose clapped her hands in approval, and Frank laughed, “look who’s finally come to play!”

“Rock, paper, scissors over who’s up first?”

Both girls readied their hands, slapping their fists down onto their palms before drawing their chosen weapon and Rose only lifted her hands above her head in victory, miming her rock smashing Frank’s scissors. “Guess it’s second place for you!”

Frank shook her head, reaching down to start her engine, drowning out any future conversation as Rose started hers up a moment later, both propellers groaning before spinning up. When she was ready, Rose taxied down the runway first, Frank flipping just a few last minute switches as she was given the all clear from the ground crew, the first Hawker Typhoon rumbling down the runway. In true Rose fashion, the redhead waited until the absolute last second before she was airborne, Frank exhaling as she rolled her eyes once she confirmed Rose was safely in the air. Not one for dramatics, Frank liked to get into the air as soon as possible, whereas Rose lived for speed before lift. She taxied out into position next, taking off a solid ten seconds after Rose, climbing higher into the sky before she increased the speed. After all, she had a race to win. 

Roughly one hundred and thirty-five miles almost due East was their destination. RAF Ludham expected the Typhoons no later than mid-morning, and while some might consider it a disaster of a plane, the Typhoon was far from the worst Frank had flown. The single engine, single seater plane doubled as both a fighter and a bomber, mainly flying at a much lower altitude, at a much higher rate of speed, than the other planes in its class. It was used primarily at night now by the RAF, the boys and brass extremely happy with its long-range results. For now they had figured out a way to strap bombs to it, giving it the dual classification, and if the whisperings she heard every time she ferried one were true, by the end of the year they would have rockets on them as well. The idea of more artillery attached to the plane boggled Frank’s mind, the small aircraft was already much heavier than the others and she couldn’t imagine it weighing anymore. 

The wind was on their side, allowing them smooth sailing across the country side, the girls alternating on who was in the lead while also making sure to stay within the boundaries set by the ATA. They dipped and swayed playfully, enjoying the blue sky and light cloud cover, careful to stay low enough the plane didn’t have any complications. The higher it got, the slower it went, so they hovered around thirty-six thousand feet, high up enough they felt free, but still low enough they could follow the road into Norfolk.

Not too far from Norwich, the girls made playful, and borderline crude, hand gestures to one another, the two Typhoons neck and neck to the finish line. They’d done this several times before, the rules simple: whoever landed first, won. There was a brief discrepancy that one time they raced to one of the bases west of London, the RAF base having not one, but two runways, and it was later agreed that whoever got out of the plane first, was the winner. However, that wouldn’t matter, as Ludham only had one primary runway and Frank tightened her fingers on the yoke as they approached, Rose already making her landing preparations. But, the eager-beaver she was, Rose didn’t account for the way the landing gear would slow her down, Frank sailing ahead just enough that she was able to take the lead position, forcing Rose to slow even further to avoid colliding in the air. 

She touched down first, tires squealing as she landed and taxied into the place the ground crew waved her towards. Rose following suit a few moments later, maneuvering her plane to the right, across from Frank’s. 

“You’re such a sore loser,” Rose said the moment the girls were together on the ground again, helmets dangling from their fingers, “I was clearly in the lead the entire flight.”

“If you were in the lead, then you would’ve won,” Frank wiggled her eyebrows and Rose scoffed. “How does it feel to be second, Rose?”

“It feels like I’m driving to Thorpe Abbots, Stella." Frank laughed, tilting her head back as they wandered across the tarmac, "How’s the shoulder, by the way?”

“Good, wh—” Before Frank could even get her word out, Rose shoved her playfully and Frank only laughed harder, stumbling a few steps forward as she turned to walk backwards, grinning at her friend as she repeated her words from only seconds ago, “You’re such a sore loser.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rose unfolded her sunglasses and slipped them on, a smile falling across her painted lips, “you clearly tripped.”

Frank shook her head, the girls’ laughter dying down as they reached the control tower. After signing off on a few official pieces of paper, using the facilities, and grabbing coffee, Frank found herself climbing into an older model Hillman Minx, the RAF’s go-to staff vehicle. Rose was already behind the wheel, both of their bags tossed into the back seat. Freshly changed into her uniform, Rose smoothed out her skirt, fingers tapping on the wheel as she waited for Frank to get situated. The brunette, albeit no longer in her flight coveralls, had opted to wear trousers instead of a skirt. 

“Are you ready, your highness?”

“Still sore, are we?” Frank leaned over to tilt the rearview mirror towards her, making sure there wasn’t any lipstick on her teeth and that her curls still looked like she tried, putting the mirror back into position once she was finished. “I thought Dorothy forbade you to drive anymore.”

“It’s daylight outside,” Rose eased up on the gas pedal, effectively launching the car down the road, towards the entrance and exit of the base, “I fly planes all day, every day—and she thinks I can’t handle a car?”

“Well, you did almost crash Big Ben.” Frank pointed out, thinking back to one of Ratcliffe’s staff cars. A few of the boys on the base modified the small car with a much louder horn, something Frank and Rose both discovered after nearly giving a local farmer a heart attack when Rose lightly beeped it one evening. 

“It was a blackout!” Rose shook her head, “Anyone would have crashed in those conditions. It wasn’t my driving—it’s the roads.”

“The roads, the blackout…” Frank lifted both hands, moving them up and down as if she were weighing something, “Just don’t let Dot know.”

The girls managed to arrive at Thorpe Abbotts a little over an hour later, aftering taking the scenic road. Rose claimed it was to see the picturesque countryside, but Frank was almost certain it was because Rose took a wrong turn, putting them on a northern route rather than going directly through the center of Norwich. 

“Does he know you’re coming?”

Frank shook her head no, watching as they passed the sign that told them Thorpe Abbotts was ahead, “I tried to call him last night, but he was in a meeting. Buck said he’d let him know I called, but we haven’t been going into detail about things on the phone lately.”

“Just being cautious?”

Frank shrugged, her conversation with Dorothy still fresh on her mind, “I don’t know, really—things just feel a little…heavier. If that makes sense.”

Rose hummed, and Frank could tell by the way those two lines appeared between her friend’s eyebrows that she was processing Frank’s words. “Do you think we’re getting closer to winning the war?”

“I hope so,” Frank exhaled slowly, “I really do. But then I’ll read the paper and it feels like every time we take one step forward, there’s three more back. It can’t go on forever, right?”

“I don’t know.” Rose shook her head, fingers tightening on the wheel as they approached one of the guard stands, “My gut tells me no, nothing lasts forever. But it’s already gone on too long, you know? How many more people have to suffer and die before it’s finally over?”

“I read something the other day that estimated over a million have already died,” Frank shook her head, “I hope it’s wrong, but I fear it’s not.”

Rose only shook her head, both girls looking to the right as they approached the stand, an unfamiliar face in a familiar uniform stepping out to greet them. He had a nice smile, one that gave away his youth, Frank estimating him to be no older than twenty. “Morning, ladies.”

“Good morning,” Rose reached for the note they received from Ludham before leaving, passing it over as well as their ATA identification, “Captain Phillips and Captain Frank—we’re here to ferry a few planes and equipment for the RAF.”

He nodded, double checking their names with his log before he waved them in, bidding them a good day. Rose navigated the Minx through the damp roads, pulling over when they encountered a jeep coming towards them before continuing on. They found a series of huts not too far from the airfield, a few bicycles parked out front. 

“These are the offices right?”

“I have no idea,” Frank climbed out first, Rose following, both car doors slamming close. 

“What do you mean you have no idea? You’re here all the time.”

“I don’t go to the offices, Rose,” Frank swatted her friend with the folders she carried under her arm, “dust the chip off your shoulder and let’s go.”

Rose followed Frank through the doorway, both girls smiling politely to the woman behind the desk, her dark hair expertly styled and pinned to the back of her head, “Hi—we’re here to speak with Colonel Harding? If he’s available?”

The woman pushed back from her chair before knocking on one of the doors to the left, poking her head in before she moved back to the desk, “It’ll be just a few moments.”

Frank and Rose stepped off to the side, Rose reaching out to tuck a few stray strands of Frank’s hair under her hat, “Have you met him?”

“No,” Frank shook her head, voice barely a whisper, “and I honestly hoped never to. Not after the mess with the former CO.”

“Ladies?”

Both Rose and Frank turned to look at the open door, a very tall, very handsome man standing there, a smile across his face. Rose moved first and Frank only chuckled internally at the way her friend rolled her shoulder’s back. “Colonel Harding?”

“That’s what they call me,” Harding held his hand out and shook first Rose’s and then Frank’s, “nice to meet you both. I got off the phone with one of the execs at Ludham not too long ago, he told me to be expecting you…”

“Captain Phillips,” Rose glanced towards Frank, “and this is Captain—”

“Frank, yes.” Harding nodded, “I believe I have your name in some of my files…” Frank felt her cheeks heat up, both girls following Harding into his office, the older man motioning to the seats in front of the desk as he took his own. Another uniformed man stood off to the side, the girls giving him soft smiles as they took their seats. Hard pulling his seat forward, reaching for the cigar on his desk, slowly rolling it between his fingers, “I hear you’re here to take some of my things.”

Frank nodded, reaching for one of the folders before handing it over, “With the RAF handing over the base a few days ago, we’re here to take some of the leftover equipment, that the nearby bases didn’t need, off your hands. I believe Commodore Green identified the aircraft and crates?”

“Mhmm,” Harding clipped the cigar’s head off before reaching for his lighter, leaning back slightly, “he pointed them out after the ceremony. The boys have already loaded them onto the plane and the files are in the tower. I’ll have my Air Exec confirm everything’s there for you. When are you scheduled to take off…”

“This afternoon,” Frank spoke up as Rose moved to flip through the itinerary Dorothy gave them, “we have a meeting with one of the Group Captains and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

Harding placed the cigar between his lips, nodding slowly as he looked over some of the paperwork on his desk, exhaling some smoke before he spoke again, “You know…I think there might be some rain in the forecast tonight…”

---

It didn’t take long for Frank and Rose’s plans to change, after their lunch meeting with one of the RAF’s Group Captains, Frank found herself placing her bag onto one of the footlockers in the visitor’s hut, a space typically reserved for visiting personnel. “You’ve been to the officer’s club before?”

“Mhmm,” Frank tossed her hat onto one of the neatly made beds, “feels like a lifetime ago, honestly.” 

“Funny how time flies when you’re in—”

Frank prepared herself to throw one of her shoes toward Rose when a loud siren went off, both girls tensing immediately before realizing it wasn’t the air raid siren. “I think the boys are back,” Rose moved towards one of the windows, “and judging by the way Bucky hasn’t found you since we arrived, I bet he’s in one of those forts.”

Frank wandered over, eyes lifting towards the sky where a line of B-17s were slowly trickling down from the clouds. She had kept an eye out for him, but after realizing that the base did seem suspiciously less crowded, she assumed as much. 

“I want to watch them come in," Rose grabbed her hat, moving towards the door a second later.

Frank and Rose both exited the hut together, the former gripping a gum wrapper in her jacket pocket tight enough that it began to fray, her eyes on the sky as she watched the planes circle around before landing, one after another. She didn’t have any idea how many took off, but she hoped they were all returning. The girls made their way to the end of the airstrip, Frank waving to a few of the ground crew members she recognized, finding Winks’ smiling face in the crowd, the men climbing into various jeeps to greet the planes, a few larger trucks whizzing by, empty, off to collect the boys.

“What’s the name of his plane?”

“I don’t know,” Frank watched them taxi in, propeller’s whirring loudly as they found their designated spots on the hardstand, “lately he’s been flying as a command pilot, so he moves around from plane to plane.”

The boys started to deplane not long after the propellers slowed, bags hitting the ground before boots, and while they couldn’t make out anyone specifically, Frank did see quite a few climbing into the trucks.

That had to be a good sign, right?

Further down the runway, Major Bucky Egan had just hit the tarmac, the back of his neck sweaty and fingers shaking from both the adrenaline and the unknown, no one sure if Curt or his crew were ok after their crash landing in Scotland. “He’ll be alright,” Blakely slapped his back between his shoulders, Bucky nodded slowly as his co-pilot walked around him, holding his bag tiredly on his trek towards one of the waiting trucks, “if anyone’s got nine lives, it’s Biddick.”

“Yeah…” Bucky nodded, dragging the zipper of his jacket down. He always felt too hot and too cold after a mission, skin frozen from the sky but also overheated from the panic. He found Buck soon enough, his best friend’s eyes cloudy as he ran through everything that happened during their mission. Buck was always quiet after, his bag landing roughly on the floor of the truck as he climbed in, Bucky hoisting himself up after. “Think Curt made it?”

Buck only pulled a toothpick from his pocket, gloves removed from his hands as he placed it between his teeth, “Hope so.”

Bucky didn’t like the response, but he kept from peppering Buck with all the questions currently coming to mind. He wouldn’t get any answers, not for another hour or two at least. The truck shimmied and shook as they took off down the runway and Bucky dropped his head, chin to his chest as he focused on breathing and taking inventory of his body.

All fingers, all toes, two balls…still alive. 

He was still alive.

In addition to that, the mission was a huge success, no casualties on their side other than Curt’s plane going down, but Crosby had assured him numerous times on their way back home that they never saw flames and that he marked the location and time. Curt should be alright and back with them soon.

Bucky watched the huts come into view, glancing towards the one they always filed into after missions, very much looking forward to that shot of whiskey. However, as they traveled further from the runways and closer to the buildings, he had to do a double take, eyes widening as he realized who was standing not twenty feet from him. 

“Was that—”

“Think so,” Buck craned his own neck, “pretty sure that’s Rose. The hair…”

“Fuck,” Bucky moved into a standing position as soon as the truck started to slow, launching himself from the back and moving towards the two figures, his heart both racing and swelling at the sight of his girl on his base. 

If only he could end every mission this way.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice reached them before he did, Frank’s own smile falling across her lips as he approached.

“We’re ferrying some leftovers from the RAF,” Frank took a few steps towards him, his girl unable to stay still after realizing he was on the ground. He slipped his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, grinning down at her as she pressed hers flat against his chest. “Are you alright? You need to get to medical and interrogation…”

“Fine now,” Bucky lowered his head, pressing his mouth to hers in a quick, albeit firm, kiss. His hand lifted, tilting her chin up as he searched her face, “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

“Oh?” She pulled him just a little closer, and despite having already shared a kiss, she kept from returning it, knowing that they shouldn’t. Not when they were both in uniform. “Is everything ok?”

Bucky nodded, eyes lifting to look over her head at Rose before flickering back down at her, “Yeah—yeah, I think so. Just…had some complications on the return trip. Curt went down in Scotland.”

“Oh my God—is he ok?”

“I think so,” Bucky shook his head, “I hope so. There wasn’t any indication that they didn’t make it. We’ll find ‘em…”

“I’m sure he’s ok…” Frank smoothed the front of his jacket and Bucky nodded, his hand dropping from her chin to press over the top of hers, his longer fingers curling around hers before pulling it from his chest and kissing her knuckles. “Curt’s been through a few close calls, if anyone’s able to crash land and dance away, it’s him.”

Bucky nodded, kissing her hand again before he glanced over his shoulder, Buck standing near the truck in front of the huts, calling out to him. “Gotta go—I’ll find you after I’m done. Shouldn’t be longer than an hour or so, alright?”

Frank nodded, smiling as Bucky squeezed her hand, “We’ll be here. Harding put us up in one of the huts, so…”

Bucky lifted both of his eyebrows as he took a step back, letting go of her hand as he walked backwards towards Buck, “Can’t wait to hear that story…”

Frank smiled, feeling Rose’s arm loop around her own as Bucky took off back towards Buck. 

“Everything ok?”

Frank nodded slowly, eyes following the Major until he disappeared inside the hut with his best friend, “Yeah, I think so. He said Curt’s plane went down over Scotland, but he and the boys should be ok.”

“Of course he’d be in Scotland when I’m here,” Rose kept it light and Frank was thankful for it, turning her head to laugh softly at her friend, “I guess I’ll just have to get my fill next time I see him.”

Frank only blanched and Rose giggled, the girls turning to walk down the gravel road towards their hut, grateful for her friend’s outlook. She knew Rose and Curt didn’t have anything serious, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried after Bucky’s news. The last thing she wanted to do was give her friend, who had already lost too many in this war, more bad news. “We should find Helen and the girls and see if they’re going to the party tonight.”

“I’m sure they are,” Rose said, “from what Harding said, it sounds like it’s going to be a bash.”

“I think we all need it.”

Frank and Rose disappeared into their hut to regroup, neither of them knowing that they would revisit this same scenario, with a different outcome, less than a month later.

Notes:

Thank you all for reading this chapter and enjoying the story with me! Your kind words always make my day and I appreciate them so much! Originally this chapter had the scenes from the Officers' Party, including Blue Skies with Bucky, but I decided to cut it for length. Which is good news, because that means Chapter 32 is almost complete and we don't have to wait as long for the next one!

Let me know what you think!!

And as always, if you'd like to chat about our characters or story, you can always find me on Tumblr here where I also post updates and answer questions about new chapters!

Chapter 32: XXXII

XXXII.

“You know,” Rose gently massaged her thumbs against the tips of her fingers, a familiar, upbeat song echoing down the hall as she and Frank walked towards the Officers’ Club, “the men at Ratcliffe are handsome, don’t get me wrong. But there’s just…something about these boys that makes them more attractive.”

Frank snorted, “So you won’t be waiting for Curt, then?”

“He’s not my husband,” Rose led the way through the open doors, men and women lining the halls and doorway as they conversed animatedly with one another, everyone seeming to be in good spirits. “I never asked him for a commitment, and he never asked me for anything either—why shouldn’t I get to know more of these boys? You can’t tell me he wouldn’t be looking around if it was ladies night.”

“No, you’re probably right,” Frank glanced around, taking in the large space slowly. It wasn’t her first party at the club, but it was definitely her first party here where she didn’t feel nervous enough to vomit all over her shoes, “just keep in mind that he lives here on this base, with these men, alright? You may not have anything serious, but things can get ugly fairly quick…”

“I take your point,” Rose nudged Frank’s elbow with her own, “and I think I see Bucky over there.”

Rose’s eyesight didn’t lie and Frank found herself looking towards the band where Bucky, Buck, Kidd, and DeMarco were huddled together, drinks in their hands, a conversation flowing easily among them. “Yes, it looks like they’ve already got a head start on us.” Frank eyed Bucky closely. Freshly showered and in his uniform, he looked so much better than handsome, hair wavy and smooth, and she found herself wanting to slip her hand along the back of his neck to feel the soft strands against the pads of her fingers.

“Colonel Harding is also here,” Rose tilted her head as her eyes swept the room, “speaking of a man I’d like to get to know…”

Frank was pretty sure her brain stopped working, eyes shooting to look at Rose with a dumb expression across her face, her feet coming to a stop as Rose paused to glance towards her, “You’re interested in Harding?”

“How old do you think he is?” Rose asked, “Mid thirties? Tell me he doesn’t look dapper in his uniform…”

“No, older,” Frank swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry, “and not something you should consider.”

“You’re no fun,” Rose sighed and Frank moved forward towards the group of boys, no longer wanting to have this conversation with her friend, her cheeks warming at just the thought. “But you know what could be fun? An evening with that mustache.”

“No, no, no, no,” Frank squeezed her eyes closed, “I need to wash my brain out. He’s a Colonel Rose. You know that’s frowned upon. Dorothy would—”

“You can be such a prude sometimes, Frank.”

“It’s not a matter of sex, Rose. It’s rank and status and you sleeping with him could cause a world of trouble for the ATA…”

Rose waved her off, but before she could reply they reached the boys.

“Look who it is,” Bucky greeted the girls first, moving the glass from one hand to the other before stretching his right to Frank, pulling her towards him until he was able to comfortably slip his arm around her waist, her back to his chest, Jack Kidd giving them both smiles in greeting before he slipped away to talk with someone else. “I thought maybe you two changed your minds on the party…”

“No, definitely not,” Frank felt her body relax into him, enjoying being this close to him now, “just running a little late.”

“It’s my fault—I didn’t have the right underwear.”

Buck choked into his glass, shaking his head back and forth as he attempted to get himself under control, Bucky handing Frank his glass before whacking a hand across his friend’s upper back. “You alright there, Buck?”

“Yep,” Buck’s voice was rough, the blonde still trying to recover from his drink going down the wrong pipe, “never better.”

Frank sipped on Bucky’s drink as she looked back at Buck, DeMarco taking a few moments to look down at his shoes, his ears red, “How old do you think your Colonel is, boys?”

Bucky seemed to pick up on Rose’s line of questioning pretty quickly, a massive grin across his face as he glanced back and forth between Harding and Rose, Frank sighing in what could only be described as exasperation. “I believe he’s a few years from forty,” DeMarco offered as Buck coughed to clear his throat, “Why?”

“That’s not terrible,” Rose looked at Frank, the Captain shaking her head in disagreement, “What? It’s not—he has all his hair.”

“Rose…”

“Pretty sure he’s married,” Bucky said, tilting his head from one side to the other, “and has a daughter.”

Rose’s shoulders fell and Frank sighed in relief as Bucky took his glass back, savoring a sip of the liquor, his eyes dancing with amusement, “Such a shame, what I’d give to be that cigar.”

“Lots of good lookin’ guys around,” Bucky said as Buck ran a hand through his hair, his own face reddening at her latest comment. 

“Speaking of,” Rose turned her head, as if she were looking for someone before she gave Frank a sideways glance, “where’s the piano player?”

Frank’s eyes shifted across the room, Bucky snorting softly as he finished his drink, fingers caressing the side of Frank’s waist before she tilted her head up to look at him, “Brady…?”

“Mmm…” Bucky, DeMarco, and Buck all glanced in the direction they last saw their friend. “He’s probably by the bar,” Bucky said, “speaking of which, Rose can I get you a drink or are you in need of an opening again?”

“I always need an opening, Major,” Rose said, eyes meeting Frank’s before she winked conspiratorially, “I think I’ll wander over to the bar, see if I can find him.”

“She knows what she’s doing, I’ll give her that.” Bucky loosened his arm and Frank only shook her head, “Boys, I’m gonna get this lovely lady a drink before she wilts. We’ll catch you two later.”

He didn’t wait for Buck or DeMarco’s response, Bucky leading her towards the bar moments later. Rose was already a few feet away from it, smiling to a few people as she walked, making her way towards Helen and Tatty to say hello, the two girls seated not far away. The couple approached the bar easily, sliding into an empty spot and Bucky leaned an elbow onto it, placing his empty glass down before turning to look at her, “What can I get you, angel?”

“Whatever you’re drinking is fine,” Frank inhaled deeply, letting her body slowly relax in the informal environment, watching Bucky hold up two fingers to the bartender before his attention was back on her. “How was the debrief?”

“Fine,” Bucky nodded, “the mission went really well and we hit our target. We even had a new navigator this go around. Remember Crosby?”

“I think so,” Frank said, “he gave a speech after the wedding, right?”

“Yeah, him,” Bucky said, “he took over for Bubbles, poor bastard was sick as a dog. But Crosby fit in well, so much so that he’s now full-time with Blakely’s crew. It’s a big step up for him.”

“I’m glad he flew with you, then.” Frank said, eyes shifting as the bartender approached, sliding over two glasses, Bucky thanking him softly as she smiled. “Who knows where you would’ve ended up without him.” Bucky laughed, clinking his glass against hers before they both sipped, the way the man watched her over the top of his glass making her stomach flutter, “Is it chaos up there? I assume as much, but I have nothing to reference other than my own experience in the bombers.”

“It’s quiet for a while,” Bucky said, nodding slowly as he glanced down at his drink, “on the way to the target, especially. Everyone’s thinking, processing, trying to remember everything from the briefing. Thinking of home and such. But it gets pretty loud in the thick of it.”

“Mmm,” Frank took another sip of her drink, “what do you think about, Major?”

“You,” Bucky didn’t even bother trying to keep the truth from her, placing his drink down on the bar, his eyes meeting hers head on, “I think about the last time I saw you, and I wonder what you’re doing. I think about when I’m gonna see you again and that I hope with everything I have that I will.”

Frank swallowed thickly, her voice soft, “John…”

He shook his head, averting his gaze momentarily as he glanced down at his hands, “I think about what life’s gonna be like after this war. Sometimes I wonder if it’ll ever end, and I look at your photo and I try to imagine what it might be like one day.”

Frank took a step forward, her hand flattening out on his chest as she pressed a soft kiss to his chin, Bucky tilting his head to brush his lips against hers, “Those are all very strong thoughts, John.”

“Mhmm.” He kissed her again, hand lifting to cup the side of her neck, thumb stroking the space behind her ear, “S’true though, you’re all I think about on the way there and the way back.”

Frank slipped her arm around his waist, looking up at him as they huddled together beside the bar, neither of them caring if anyone was watching. Not right now. Not after that confession. “I think about you a lot too.”

“I’m glad,” Bucky’s reply was quiet, only for her, their lips barely touching, but before Frank could get too lost in the kiss and forget where they were standing, she pulled away, hands moving to rest flat on his chest. 

“Dance with me?”

“Always,” Bucky pushed off the bar, cupping his hands over hers before he laced their fingers together. He walked backwards towards the dance floor before bringing her into his arms, ready to spend an evening wrapped around his favorite girl, enjoying the music and atmosphere, and more importantly, pretending that they weren’t at war. 

---

It was about an hour or so later that Frank found herself off to the side, taking a break from dancing, fingers wrapped around a martini glass as she listened to Buck describe growing up in Wyoming. Rose stood beside her with her own drink, absolutely enthralled with Buck’s words, the red-head obsessed with the idea of traveling and seeing new places, and Frank knew that Rose would be conning Buck into a trip across the Cowboy State before long. “Where’s Marge from?” Frank asked, feeling Bucky’s hands slide along her back as he came up behind her after a short conversation with Lieutenant Glen Van Noy. 

“Wyoming,” Buck said, “she’s from a town on the other side of the state.”

“How did you meet?” Rose asked, “Was it love at first sight?”

Buck only hummed slightly and Bucky grinned, arms wrapping further around Frank, gently rocking her to the song playing, “Love at first sight, if I remember the story correctly. He saw her when her folks were visiting family.”

“We kept contact,” Buck rolled his eyes, but both girls could see the small smile trying to spread across his face, “and we reconnected later on when I was in cadet school and she was in college.”

“And the rest is history,” Rose mused, eyes twinkling, “congratulations, Buck. It’s a long, hard battle to find the love of your life and you’ve done it.”

“I’m a very lucky man, Rose.”

“And Marge is a very lucky lady,” Bucky teased and Buck only rolled his eyes again at his friend, but before anyone else could say anything the first few bars to Blue Skies started up, the musicians playing the lively song after a few slower ones back-to-back. Briefly, Frank could see Brady in the far corner, his back to them as he played the piano. 

“Brady is very good,” Rose commented, her eyes shifting away from Buck and their conversation and over towards the man she’d been chatting with the last thirty or so minutes before he went to play with the band, “and I adore this song.”

Bucky wiggled his eyebrows towards his friend, Rose arching one of her own at the look across his face, “And it’s only missing one thing…”

“No,” Buck was quick with a response, Frank glancing towards the boys as Bucky grinned widely at him over the top of Frank's head, his fingers tapping against her waist, “no, it’s not.”

“C’mon Buck…” Bucky’s eyes sparkled, teeth flashing in amusement, “I should sing, shouldn’t I?”

“No—”

“Yes, please,” Rose was thoroughly invested now and Frank couldn’t help but chuckle softly, Bucky only motioning towards Rose as Buck sighed heavily, “please go sing, yes. What do you want? I’ll give you anything to sing—”

“Rose—”

“Jack!” Bucky called over the top of Buck’s head, the Major currently enjoying the song and evening from the comfort of one of the chairs off to the side, a little quieter he asked, “Should I sing?”

“No.”

Bucky shot a sour look towards his friends and Rose laughed at how monotone Kidd's response was, waving her hand towards the musicians, “The song’s nearly halfway through, Bucky…if you don’t hop on over now, you’re gonna lose it…”

“John…” Buck shook his head no again and Bucky’s shoulders deflated, Frank almost finding it adorable how disappointed Bucky looked as he stared at his friend, “Let the professionals handle it tonight…”

“Ok, ok, ok,” Bucky lifted his hands in surrender, nodding along to the music after he agreed not to sing, his eyes briefly looking towards Rose, her lips pursed to keep from laughing harder, “You’re right.”

“You know,” Rose toyed with the stem of her own glass, winking at Frank, “Frank loves the words to this song…”

Bucky released Frank immediately, “I gotta give the lady what she wants, Buck. It’s my song …”

Frank laughed, watching Bucky move away from their group and towards the lonely microphone, shaking her head as he stepped up to it, his eyes finding hers as he pointed towards her, his other hand grabbing onto the stand. 

“Never saw the sun, shining so bright. Never saw things, going so right…”

“You know not what you’ve unleashed, Rose,” Buck ran a hand along his jaw, everyone staring at Bucky now as he sang his heart out, “don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

“He’s giving it his all,” Rose said, nudging Frank with her elbow, “you can’t say he doesn’t jump into things with both feet, now can you?”

“Noticing the days hurrying' by, when you're in love, my how they fly…” Bucky’s wink punctuated the end of the line and Rose cooed before Frank pushed Rose’s hand off her forearm.

Rose proceeded to giggle, “He’s singing to you, my very red-faced friend. How does it feel to be serenaded so…uniquely?”

“Perhaps it’s time to take a walk, Rose.”

Rose laughed, drowning the rest of her drink before she placed it on the table beside Buck, “I think you’re right, Frank. There’s a very handsome blonde over there just begging for my attention…”

“Blue days, all of them gone…” 

Frank pulled her eyes from Bucky for only a moment, her insides feeling gooey and warm at the way he was smiling and singing to her, to look towards the bar where a few other boys, all of them dressed in uniform, stood. The blonde very much looked in Rose’s direction, his wide grin revealing a glint of a gold tooth as his eyes met Rose’s and Frank knew he had just sealed the deal. “Have a good night, Rose.”

“Don’t wait up, ok?”

Frank shook her head, looking to Buck, “And then there were two?”

“Seems so,” Buck said and Frank turned her attention back to Bucky, watching as he continued to belt out the lyrics to the song the band played, shaking her head as he pointed towards her, clearly having the time of his life singing off-key. A glance to her left told her that Harding was just as stunned as several other uniformed men in the area were, and to her right Buck only continued to shake his head, smile forming across his lips that he tried so hard to hide. 

“You really gonna go with this joker?”

Frank laughed, Buck’s low voice making her grin widely, eyes back on Bucky as he riffed with the best of them, arms over his head as he pointed towards the band, lost in his own world. “What can I say, Buck…he’s just got a certain…Je ne sais quoi.”

Buck laughed at that, hand sliding into the pocket of his jacket as he pulled out his toothpick holder, sliding open the top before selecting one for the evening. “I don’t know what that means,” he said slowly, rolling the toothpick between his teeth, “and I’m not sure I want to.”

“You should learn French, my new friend,” Frank patted his arm, the blonde shaking his head at her, “I think Marge would really like it…”

“So he’s spent some time telling you about Marge, huh?” Buck’s eyes shot to his friend who was still very much having the time of his life on stage, massive grin across his face, “Why am I not surprised?”

“You know, John,” Frank nudged him again, Buck looking back at her, “telegram, tell-a-friend, tell-a-Bucky.”

Buck laughed at that, nodding his head as he processed her words, “I’ll have to remember that one. You’re definitely not wrong.”

It wasn’t long before the song started to fade out, but not before a round of applause sounded for the entertainment, Bucky clapping for himself before bowing theatrically, DeMarco wolf whistling from his spot near the bar, Bucky pointing towards him before yelling back, “Love you, Benny! You’ve always been my favorite!”
He rejoined Buck and Frank not a moment later, hair curled at the ends from the exertion, one hand straightening his jacket before he reached for Frank’s hand, the brunette allowing him to take her for a twirl under his arm before bringing her back into his chest, “You’re up next, right doll?”

“I would need to be very very drunk,” Frank looped her arms around his neck, Buck slowly fading into the background after shaking his head, the blonde taking a seat in one of the empty chairs near Kidd, greeting him warmly, “we’re talking ‘I don’t remember anything in the morning’ drunk.”

“Could be arranged.” Bucky stole a hot kiss and Frank giggled, “You don’t know how happy I am that you’re here tonight.”

“I’m very happy too.” 

Frank let Bucky lead her back to the dance floor, both of them falling into an easy step that matched the quicker tempo the band was playing, Bucky pulling her into his chest before he spun her out, “East or west, doll?”

Frank moved with him easily, the hem of her dress swishing against her calves as they moved with the music, a good warm up for what was sure to be a night filled with lively dancing. As the song continued, more and more couples filtered out onto the dance floor and out of the corner of her eye she could see the blonde Rose eye-flirted with holding his arm out to her, the two slowly moving towards the main doors. 

“You know I’ve always been a fan of California,” Frank laughed as Bucky brought her under his arm again, the two making use of the space they had to dance, “But I do know you love your Yankees…”

“S’alright,” Bucky said over the music, eyes twinkling, “we’ll save the best for last.”

---

Frank was in the middle of a livelier dance with Bucky, the two going back and forth on if Gone with the Wind was too long or not, when a sharp whistle caught Bucky’s attention, the couple turning to see Buck waving him over, Major Red Bowman standing beside him. 

“This is gonna be interesting…” Bucky laced his fingers with hers, walking them across the dance floor and towards the bar. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Gotta call,” Red motioned towards the phone the bartender placed in front of him, Buck’s eyebrows raised curiously, “Operator, I’ve got Majors Cleven and Egan here.”

Bucky glanced down at Frank before he and Buck exchanged a confused look, Red handing the phone over to Buck a moment later. 

The silence stretched on too long and Frank could feel the anticipation rolling across Bucky’s shoulders as he shifted from one foot to the other, clearly unsure who could be calling them now. 

“Curt!”

Frank could almost see the breath Bucky released, a goofy smile across face as he called out to Curt through Buck, her hand running up and down his back. She knew he was worried, could see it clear as day on his face earlier, and based on the way his shoulders eased and the lines between his forehead disappeared, he was at least a hundred times lighter now as Buck continued to talk to Curt Biddick. 

Frank couldn’t make out any of the words Curt was yelling out to them, and based on the tone and inflection, she could assume he’d had a few drinks since landing in Scotland. She glanced around, spotting both Helen and Tatty across the room, but she didn’t see Rose anywhere. Confirming her suspicions that Rose was long gone. 

Bucky released her to lean against the bar, head tilted to better hear his friend and Frank continued to rest her hand along his back, massaging the tight muscles, feeling how stressed and exhausted he was through the thick material of his jacket, nodding to the bartender when he asked if they wanted drinks.

“You just get back here soon, Curt.” 

Frank thanked the bartender when he placed the fresh glasses down, sipping from her drink, looking between Bucky and Buck as they finished up a call with Curt. “We miss you, Curt,” Bucky called into the receiver after a moment, reaching for the drink Frank ordered him, “we’re glad you’re still with us.”

Buck took the phone after that and Frank felt Bucky’s arm slide around her, pulling her into his side before he brushed his lips across hers, so lightly Frank couldn’t help but crave more, and judging by Bucky’s hooded eyes she had fallen right into his playful trap. 

“John says he misses his little spoon.” 

Frank laughed, head tilting back as Bucky grinned over his shoulder at Buck before he called back, “It’s gonna be cold tonight, Curt!” 

Frank felt his arms wrap around her tighter, head ducking to kiss her ear, whispering how he wanted to keep her warm all night. “Yeah—that’s Frank, she and Rose flew in earlier. Already witnessed his singing and everything…yeah, I’ll let ‘em know. Take care, safe travels.” They all awaited Buck’s words after he hung up the phone, reaching for his ginger beer, “Curt sends his best—hopes he’ll get a kiss from an angel when he gets back.” 

“Not my angel,” Bucky’s wrapped completely around her, eyes squinted as he grinned down at her, his smile covering his entire face as she squeezed his biceps, “gonna have to wrangle his from Hambone.”

“Something tells me we shouldn’t mention that,” Buck shot his friend a look and Bucky only nodded in agreement.

As Buck turned to say something to Red, Frank felt just a little bolder from both the alcohol and the way Bucky was looking at her, taking a moment to lift herself up to her toes, lips ghosting across his before she very quickly pulled his lower one between her teeth, a very low growl sounding as Bucky’s hands squeezed waist. “It’s getting late…” Frank’s voice was barely above a whisper, letting Bucky press a lingering peck to her mouth, their noses brushing as they breathed one another in, “want to take me on a midnight stroll of the base?” 

“There’s nothing I want more,” Bucky nodded, eyes searching hers, “c’mon, doll. Let’s—”

“Bike race in the mess hall!”

Frank could tell based on the way Bucky turned his head that their stroll was going to have to wait just a little longer, laughing when Buck wandered by, slapping his shoulder, “Probably better if you sit this one out, Bucky…”

Bucky glanced down at her as if to ask permission and Frank smiled softly, stroking the pins along his jacket, “It sounds like you need to go beat Buck now…”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Bucky cupped her face, kissing her deeply, “C’mon—be my good luck charm?”

Frank nodded and Bucky kissed her forehead, lips lingering before he pulled her towards him in the direction everyone was moving, neither of them realizing they were about to pass Colonel Harding, “Lemme go beat Buck and then I’ll give you a tour of my plane.”

“I think I’m well acquainted with your plane, Major.” Neither of them noticed Colonel Harding choke into his drink, inhaling so deeply that the liquor went up his nose as they followed the group into the mess hall. 

Frank sent Bucky on with the rest of the boys to prepare for the race, many of them looking a little unsteady on two wheels, the alcohol no doubt causing them to question if they could even ride a bike or not. She found both Helen and Tatty easily, the girls along the edge of the make-shift race track, watching on in amusement. “Having a good night, Frank?”

“Yes, I think so,” Frank slipped her hands into the pockets of her dress, finding it a little chillier in the mess hall despite the amount of bodies in one area, “How about you ladies?”

“I think Tatty’s found herself a fish,” Helen nudged her friend playfully and Tatty only scoffed, a light blush falling across her cheeks. 

“Is that so?” Frank lifted her eyebrows, “Who’s the lucky mackerel?”

“One of the Bombardiers,” Helen said when Tatty didn’t immediately respond, “he’s in the back of there.”

“That sounds promising,” Frank wiggled her eyebrows and Tatty scoffed, “and he’s got enough courage to go after General Spaatz’s daughter…”

“Yes, we’ll see how that goes,” Tatty lifted the cigarette to inhale, “he intended to make Helen laugh, so I’m not holding my breath.”

Frank hummed, fully aware of how that felt, having been in that situation with Rose a few times since they joined the ATA, “Well, you know what they say…plenty of fish in the sea…”

“Speaking of fish,” Helen nodded towards the front of the starting line where Bucky was trying not to wobble too terribly on his bike, playfully shoving Buck, “I saw yours give quite the performance. What’s happening there? You two seemed pretty cozy all night long…Rose mentioned it as well.”

“Where is she, by the way?”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” Tatty teased and Frank only shook her head, cheeks warming. 

“I’m very happy with my fish, ladies.”

“Does he know that he’s snagged a catch too?” Helen asked, “He treats you well?”

“Very well, yes.”

“Good,” Tatty tapped her cigarette, nodding towards one of the lower ranked boys currently taking wads of money from various members of the 100th bomb group, “you gonna bet on ‘im?”

Frank almost said yes, but then thought of a better idea, playful smile pulling at her lips as the man approached them, asking if they had any bets they wanted placed, Frank nodding before slipping him the money she stashed in her pocket. 

“I see money changing hands!” Bucky’s voice reached her ear and Frank glanced away from the man to look towards him, his finger pointing towards her, “I hope that’s goin’ on me!”

“Blakely’s looking solid!” Frank called back and Bucky only laughed out loud, “Better watch out, Bucky!”

Poor Blakely looked the worst out of the boys, skin tinted just a little green, clearly having enjoyed too many drinks before the race, “You better be jokin’, doll!”

Frank only waved the dollar in her hand at him and he shook his head at her, making kissing noises back before he was forced to turn his attention back to the race, Frank sliding the dollar over to bet that Buck would take the cake. The blonde was the only sober one in the race, there was no way he wasn’t going to win. 

The man Bucky kept calling Graham yelled out instructions before the starting pistol went off, the boys beginning as soon as it did, bicycles whizzing by as everyone on the sidelines clapped, the boys hollering at each other through every turn, cheers sounding anytime someone went down. Poor Crosby coming in towards the back of the group, looking just a little drunker than Blakely, if that was even possible. 

As she expected, Buck maintained the lead with Bucky not too far behind. It was a mess of shouts and insults, laughter continuing to fill the space and Frank smiled widely as Bucky sent her a dramatic wink, Helen nudging her playfully. 

“I think someone’s in love with their fish,” Tatty giggled on her other side and Helen nodded in agreement as Frank blushed, shaking her head slightly, eyes glued to her pilot as he and Buck battled for first around the next turn. However, as the boys all moved on through the track, it wasn’t long before Buck’s tire slid, forcing him into a skid across the mess hall, Bucky and the others following suit until it was a mess of tires, metal, and limbs, more laughter and cheering echoing as they tried to climb over one another to get to the finish line. Buck was almost there, just a step or two away from the guys waving their hands, Bucky hot on his heels when the first siren went off.

Frank’s entire body froze, her eyes widening as realization set in and Helen gasped, reaching for Tatty's elbow, “What do we do?”

The sirens continued to sound, the deep, heavy sound vibrating the building, and everyone around them quickly sobered up, the music cutting immediately. “Hold up!” Kidd’s voice broke through the entire mess hall and Frank reached for Helen’s shaking hand, her newest friend’s eyes wide with panic, “Hold up! The sirens!”

The voice over the loudspeaker for the entire base came over the speakers next, the tinny, hollowed voice offering instructions: “All personnel take shelter! Repeat! All personnel take shelter!”

“Head for the shelters!” Kidd remained as calm as he normally was, providing instructions as the men got to their feet. This wasn’t the first air raid Frank experienced, and she knew from that experience that if they were the ones on the receiving end of the bombs, they wouldn’t have time to get to the shelter. She squeezed Helen’s elbow before Tatty took over, arm wrapping around her friend as the girls followed the growing line of men towards the exits, the airmen allowing the girls to move ahead of them and out of the mess hall first. 

Bucky located her quickly in the sea of uniforms, his own arm around her, his eyes flickering around the mess hall, filled with just a bit of distress and awareness, the drinks he had earlier clouding his dark blue eyes slightly. “C’mon, doll,” Bucky moved not far behind Buck, his arm never leaving her waist as the crisp evening air hit them, cooling the sweat along the back of their necks. 

Most of the men and women on base filled the shelter, but once it became clear they weren’t the targets, the urgency faded off, everyone’s eyes trained to the sky where they watched bomb after bomb fall, explosions echoing all around. A few dozen men lingered at the entrance of the shelter and Frank found herself in front of Bucky after surveying the area for Rose and finding her tucked into the back with the blonde from earlier before she returned to her own beau, Bucky’s arms wrapped tightly around her from behind once she returned, solemn looks across both his and Buck’s face. 

Bucky’s long fingers stroked her waist after he tucked her under his chin. Silence stretched on, everyone lost in their thoughts, undoubtedly playing the “what if” game over and over again. “Ok?” Frank nodded, leaning back further into his embrace as his arms tightened around her, head ducking to press a soft kiss to her ear, nose nuzzling the edge of it before he whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Frank’s fingers ran along the cuff of his shirt, the tips of her fingers sliding under the material to stroke the thin skin of his wrist, feeling his pulse point. 

“I’ll be ok,” Bucky’s arms tightened just a bit more and Frank couldn’t help but allow her eyes to rake across the sky, “I promise, angel. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

---

It was well into the early morning hours by the time they were given the all clear to exit the bunker, Bucky’s arm tossed over her shoulders to keep her warm as he escorted her back to the hut she was sharing with Rose for the night. Her friend was nowhere to be found and she had a sneaking suspicion that despite their night being cut short by the bombing in Norfolk, she still managed to sneak off somewhere for a bit of canoodling,  as some of the girls in the ATA called it. 

Bucky slipped in through the doorway when they arrived, Frank tugging him in by his tie and they both laughed when the door closed behind them, her hands sliding up and over his shoulders before he kissed her slowly. It felt good to be out of the chilly air, and it felt even better to have his hands along her waist and back, walking her backwards towards her cot. He flopped down onto it first, springs creaking as he tugged at his tie, bringing her back into his lap once it was off and on the bed beside them. 

His eyes were filled with exhaustion and Frank stroked the side of his face as they stared at one another, his hands sliding up her spine as she sat fully in his lap. He turned his head to kiss her open palm, eyes fluttering closed as he trailed his lips down her hand to her wrist, nuzzling the veins that ran up her arms. “I want this to be over,” Frank found herself confessing in the dim room, the only light coming from the lantern near the door. 

“What, baby?” Bucky asked, his voice no louder than her own as his eyes lifted to look at her. 

“The war—everything,” Frank shook her head and he shushed her softly when he spotted a stray tear pooling at the corner of her eye, “I don’t want to do this anymore.” 

“We’re gonna get through it,” he promised her, “we’re gonna make it to the other side and it’s gonna be a better place for us after, alright? I know you can do it—I know we’ll both do it. And then at the end of it all, I’m gonna take you back home. I gotta get Rose to that cabin, remember?”

Frank chuckled and he grinned with her, her forehead pressing to his as they laughed together and she was grateful for him breaking the heaviness, her body moving with his as he laid them both down on their sides to face one another, bringing her leg up and over his own, fingers sliding just over her knee and under her dress, his warm palm and fingers spread out along her outer thigh, toying with her stockings. 

“We can’t tonight,” Frank whispered against his mouth and his hand stilled, eyes finding hers as if to assess what he’d done wrong and she shook her head, kissing his mustache and then nose. “It’s not that,” she smoothed the lapel of his jacket, pressing her fingers to each of his pins, suddenly feeling just a little shyer, “I’m sort of tied up for the next handful of days…”

Bucky searched her face before realization crossed his eyes and he ducked his head, pressing his lips to the top of her hand before he settled comfortably on the bed, his hand remaining under her dress, stroking the soft skin of her thigh comfortingly, “S’alright.” A playful glint crossed his eye and Frank tilted her head, “We can just fool around like we’re in high school again.”

Frank laughed at that, her giggles echoing around the room as he pulled her down with him, rolling her onto her back to kiss her deeply, giving her far too much tongue, the kiss much wetter than it needed to be as his own laughter mixed with hers. “I don’t know what you did in high school,” Frank caught his chin and kissed him properly now, his nose brushing hers, “But I most certainly wasn’t doing that.”

“Ah, I was doin’ a lot of things,” Bucky settled against her, his cheek resting against the pillow as she lifted a hand to brush some of the curls off his forehead, “you would’ve been too good for me—still are.”

“I highly doubt that,” Frank twirled his biggest curl around her index finger, laying it across his forehead and he only continued to smile at her, his eyes glued to her face as she studied his hair, “but I would certainly describe my upbringing as sheltered.”

“And now look at you,” Bucky brought her hand down from his hair, kissing her knuckles, wrist, and then forearm, pulling her closer as he kissed her elbow and bicep before he eased the material of her dress aside, kissing her collarbones, “squished together on a single cot in England with someone you met a few months ago.”

“How the times have changed.” Frank let Bucky settle her down against the pillows, propping himself up on his elbows before he dropped his head and captured her lips with his own, “My mother would take to the bed.”

“Mom’s like me.”

Frank couldn’t help but laugh at that, Bucky quirking an eyebrow at her when she didn’t explain herself right away and after his right eyebrow joined his left he couldn’t help but shake his head at her, “I’m not sure it’s that funny.”

“No, no, no,” Frank’s laughter died off into chuckles and she shook her head, “no, it’s not that. It’s not you. I’m sure most mother’s do love you, I’m just picturing mine and I’m sorry, but absolutely not.”

“I’m a catch!” Bucky moved to cover her, kissing her nose as she continued to giggle, “I serenaded you, danced with you, was ‘bout ready to throw myself over you if the bombs were really comin’ down on us…”

Frank’s laughter picked up as he tickled her and she pushed on his shoulders, shaking her head back and forth until she was able to take a breath, “It’s not you, I promise. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Bucky blew a raspberry into her neck and she wrapped her arms around his, the man above her pulling back enough to kiss her softly, nose brushing against hers, “You don’t have to explain, I’m only teasing.”

She stroked the back of his neck, comfortable with Bucky’s weight on her, her blue eyes searching his as she internally debated with herself, “My mother cares a lot about looks,” Frank said, “she cares about what people think of her, she cares that people think of her, and she wants people to look at her and think everything’s perfect. Perfect husband, figure, house, daughters…everything. And when something doesn’t meet that expectation it’s typically placed in a cardboard box and shoved into the deep, dark space in the attic. Both literally and metaphorically.”

Bucky hummed and she stretched her legs out, slowly kicking off her shoes before they landed on the ground, “But she couldn't shove you there.”

“No,” Frank shook her head, Bucky kissing her forehead, “not after my divorce, at least. She tried. They tried to spin it in different ways in the immediate aftermath. I was sick, I was unwell, they were going to find someone to help me. Many dinners with the priest, but it wasn’t working, she was starting to get hysterical and that’s when I packed a bag and left.”

Bucky rested his hands on the mattress, pushing himself up so he could stare down at her properly, “You shouldn’t be forced to fit into that mold,” Bucky only frowned, shaking his head, “the things you do every day…I’ve seen the way you take off and land and Rose adores you. You’re meant for greatness, Stell. And nothing you’ve told me about your life before was even remotely close to it. They don’t deserve you, angel, I hope you know that.”

“I’m learning it,” Frank whispered back and he nodded, gaze trained on her, “the more time goes on, it heals a little more.”

“I’m glad,” Bucky cupped her chin, lowering his head down to kiss her thoroughly, Frank sighing when he rolled them over, letting her lay across his chest as they shared a series of kisses over and over and over again. Neither of them caring that Rose could wander in at any moment after her evening with Hambone, and as the minutes continued around the clock, fading into the early morning hours did they find comfort and rest in one another, Frank dozing off to sleep as Bucky scratched the back of her head, thoughts of how excited his own mother would be when she saw Frank filling his head until he too fell asleep.

Notes:

I hope this chapter was everything you wanted in the Blue Skies scene!!! It's a bit later than I wanted, I got a last minute project at work this afternoon, but hopefully worth the wait! I can't wait to read all of your thoughts! Thank you for reading!!

And as always, if you'd like to chat about our characters or story, you can always find me on Tumblr here where I also post updates and answer questions!

Chapter 33: XXXIII

XXXIII.

“Don’t even try to pretend that you didn’t go,” Rose said early the next morning as she finished scooping some eggs onto a fork. Seated beside Buck and across from Frank and Bucky, she was in the middle of a story about the girls’ first trip to London after they were assigned to Ratcliffe. “We were all a few glasses away from drunk and—”

“I never said I didn’t go,” Frank rushed to cut in, Bucky chuckling from beside her. His left arm dangled over the back of her chair, one leg crossed over the other with his body turned just enough that it was facing her as she finished her own breakfast plate, “I just said that I wasn’t there the entire time.”

“Right,” Rose rolled her eyes as she took a bite of the eggs, Buck shooting Bucky an amused look from across the table, “I forgot you left a whole ten minutes early.”

“Well, it was enough that I actually remembered the evening, so…” Frank gave her friend a look that could only be described as smug from over the top of her coffee cup, Bucky shaking his head as his fingers glided along her upper arm, his eyes meeting hers when she glanced towards him.

It was early, but later than a normal day, and the four were enjoying the slow breakfast together. Rose returned to their hut sometime in the middle of the night to sleep, not at all bothered by the Major sleeping in her friend’s bed, and in fact neither Frank nor Bucky even realized she had returned until her clutch landed against Bucky’s back, the redhead warning him that if he didn’t stop snoring she would call Harding herself. 

Before Rose could say anything further, the doors to the Officers’ Mess opened and the voice of Red Bowman echoed from the far end, his hat tucked under his arm, “Good morning, everyone.” 

Buck murmured a quiet greeting and Bucky lifted his coffee mug as they watched the Major approach their table. “Major,” Bucky placed it back onto the saucer, head tilting as he looked at the newcomer, “to what do we owe the pleasure this morning? These two ladies get into any trouble last night?”

Rose scoffed and Bucky grinned at her across the table, “None that I’m aware of,” Red chuckled softly, his attention shifted from Bucky and the table to Frank, “I’m actually here to ask for a word, Captain. It’ll only take a few moments.”

“Of course,” Frank reached for her napkin, dabbing her mouth before placing it beside her almost empty plate, Bucky’s fingers gliding along the back of her neck as she scooted her chair away from the table and got to her feet. 

“Need any of my time, Red?”

“I’ve had plenty of your time, Bucky,” Red tossed over his shoulder, motioning towards the doors for Frank to follow, “I’ll have her back in a few—try not to fuss too much.”

Rose chuckled softly, the three remaining at the table watching as Red and Frank exited the mess, the doors echoing closed a few moments later. Buck took that opportunity to lean back in his chair, legs crossing as he pulled his toothpick holder from his pocket, his gaze shifting momentarily to Bucky as his friend adjusted his posture, elbows coming to land on the table before he tilted his head. 

“Tell me about the guy,” Bucky’s attention zeroed in on Rose and if the woman across from him was surprised by his question, she didn’t show it. Simply placing her silverware down on the plate before she reached for her own coffee, she only eyed Bucky closely as she took a sip of the hot liquid. 

“What guy?”

“Amelia’s guy,” Bucky studied Rose’s face and posture as she placed her mug back down, eyes searching his face, “You’re smart—I trust your opinion. What’s your read?”

Rose cocked her head to the side, taking in Bucky the same way he was her, the arch of her eyebrow lifting just ever so slightly, “So she’s discussed him with you—which means it’s bothering her. What’d she say?”

“No,” Bucky shook his head, “tell me what you think first.”

Rose rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat as she glanced towards Buck, seeing him just as interested in their conversation as Bucky was, using that time to think over her words. “He gets under my skin,” she began. “He’s always there and I don’t care for it. Or him, for that matter. He’s excited all the time, he asks questions over and over. It’s just too much. Our personalities just don’t compliment one another.”

“And it doesn’t bother Amelia?”

“Not much bothers Amelia,” Rose said after a moment, “she makes friends easily, she’s charismatic, cute—no. The attention of an attractive young man, who looks like Robert Taylor if he had blonde hair, doesn’t bother her.”

“Have you noticed anything strange?” Buck asked, his hand resting on the table, gold watch catching in the light, “Since he arrived at Ratcliffe?”

Rose leaned back, glancing back and forth between the boys, taking in their serious looks, the way Bucky was watching her every move, Buck also following the conversation closely. “Strange how…?” Bucky only lifted a shoulder and Rose exhaled through her nose, moving to pull the napkin from her lap, “Look—I don’t know what you two know that I don’t know. Or what Frank knows that I don’t, but Dorothy said it wasn’t anything to be concerned about. Do I believe her? Not really, no. But, she’s my CO and I trust her with my life and my friends’ lives and if there is something going on at Ratcliffe, I can guarantee that she knows about it.”

“Frank’s mentioned it,” Bucky said after a few moments, his hands unfolding from their clasped position under his chin to run along his cheek and across the back of his neck, the taller man leaning back in his chair, a slight frown appearing momentarily between his eyebrows, “and with it looking like the war’s going into another year, both sides are going to start to get even more aggressive. She feels uneasy about it, I trust her, but I know she doesn’t trust herself. So if she’s feeling off about something, I just want to know what’s going on.”

“He’s moved through the processes quickly,” Rose said after processing his words and the meaning behind them, “too quickly, if you ask me. I’ve been trying to get into the Fortresses for months now and I’m still just here, flying around Hurricanes, waiting. He’s a former pilot who flew in the Pacific and will start training on the Class Five’s soon—that’s honestly all I know. Aside from the fact that I’d like to shut a door in his face anytime he asks when I’m going back in the air, I don’t know much more about him.”

Bucky nodded slowly, his attention turning towards the doors as they reopened and Frank appeared. With just a few moments before she rejoined them, he looked across to Rose, “It could be something, it could be nothing,” he said quietly, voice dropping to keep the conversation between them, “but if it is something, it’s not an isolated problem.”

Rose stared at him across the table until Frank was just a handful of feet away, her hands moving to rest on the back of her chair rather than retaking her seat beside Bucky. “Looks like our assignment has changed,” Frank said, smiling softly at the three of them despite the rather heavy conversation that just settled across the table, “there’s apparently a stranded pilot in need of rescuing in Scotland. You two wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“You’re getting Curt?” Bucky’s eyebrows lifted and Frank nodded as his grin widened out, “Well looky there—he is getting rescued by an angel then, huh?”

“Harding put in the request this morning,” Frank felt Bucky’s hand slid along her lower back, gently pulling her towards him until her hip rested against his chair, the Major attempting to coax her into his lap, but she remained standing beside him, “Since we’re already so close, Dorothy’s just going to push it through and then have us rendezvous after dropping the boys back here.”

“I think our day’s clear…” Bucky tilted his head and Frank glanced down at him, “Need a co-pilot…?”

“All the Squadron Leaders are meeting LeMay later for inspection,” Buck spoke up from his side of the table, shifting in his seat, “last time he came by you were gone—Harding wants you here this visit.”

“Old Iron Ass is today?”

“Mhmm,” Buck pushed himself to his feet as Rose chuckled softly, “last time he just about had a cow over the boys’ quarters, make sure to do a walk through before he touches down.”

“Another time,” Frank stroked the wrinkles between Bucky’s eyebrows, his eyes shifting back to her. 

“Did you come up with that nickname?” Rose asked as she and Bucky stood to their feet, Rose walking ahead of the couple as she followed Buck towards the doors. 

“No, the entire Eighth calls him that,” Bucky adjusted his jacket, something Frank had started to pick up on when he was agitated, the man beside her not liking the way the thicker material felt along his shoulders. 

“Pity,” Rose caught the door, glancing over her shoulder as Bucky came to a stop just a handful of steps away, “and here I thought you could be creative…”

“Don’t delay,” Buck warned, shooting his friend a look over the top of Rose’s head, “remember what Harding said…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bucky shooed him away, “I’ll be there.”

Frank watched Rose give her a dramatic wink before she released the handle, the door closing a second later, leaving Bucky and Frank alone in the Officer’s Club, the only remaining staff far enough away that they weren’t paying them much attention. “Guess I’ll do this here,” Bucky lifted his hand, cupping her face before he kissed her softly. “With LeMay comin’ in I won’t be able to when you get back.”

Frank nodded, accepting another kiss from him before she lifted a hand, catching his chin to give him one of her own, Bucky humming his approval at having her press closer to him. “Behave,” she whispered against his lips and Bucky tossed his hat onto a nearby table, hands sliding along her waist to drag her closer to him, fingers fanned out along her lower back, “try not to upset the Colonel.”

“He already hates me,” Bucky pressed his forehead to hers as her hands rested along his elbows, “we failed the last inspection, the amount of laundry and rum bottles was apparently a concern and one of the guys drove a jeep into the side of his command car...”

“How are you even still here?”

“Because I’m a really good pilot,” Bucky’s face could only be described as cocky and Frank tapped his lips, the Major’s grin widening out more as she tried to give him a stern look.

“Maybe we should go for great,” Frank wrapped her arms around his neck, lips ghosting across his, “and a great pilot follows orders and keeps his bed clean…”

“Already ahead of you there,” Bucky’s voice dropped and Frank’s eyes fluttered closed as she felt his nose brush against hers, “I didn’t even sleep in my bed last night…so it’s good to go…” Frank’s exasperated sigh was cut off as Bucky kissed her, playful smile pulling at his lip before he deepened it, the couple enjoying a few quiet moments in the Officer’s Club, the two servers across the room glancing at one another with knowing smirks before looking away to give them what privacy they could.

---

When Frank was in the air, Rose settled into the co-pilot’s seat, did she decide to approach the topic of last night, glancing towards her friend as she cruised at around five thousand feet, cutting through the low, wispy clouds, “I didn’t hear you get back last night…”

“You were fast asleep,” Rose said, eyes forward, “although I’m surprised you were out as well as you appeared with Bucky snoring as loudly as he does in your ear.”

“The bed was small,” Frank chuckled, “he was in a weird position. He doesn’t normally snore that loudly, I promise. Besides—it’s a little comforting.”

Rose balked, shaking her head, “Absolutely not. That would keep me up all night long and you find it comforting?”

“It’s comforting knowing he’s there,” Frank clarified, “not the snoring itself, but hearing it means he’s with me.”

Rose gave her an exaggerated ‘awww’ face and Frank rolled her eyes, adjusting her grip on the yoke, “I’m just glad I didn’t come back to you two in a different position.”

“I’m on my period.”

“And?” Rose said, “What’s that got to do with anything?”

This conversation was definitely not going the way she planned it, shaking her head as she pushed Rose’s question aside for now, although she did plan to revisit it another time, unanswered questions flowing through her brain about the idea. “Were you able to find a position last night?”

“A few actually,” Rose was certainly not shy, especially when it came to sex. “Don’t worry—we’re both aware that it was very much a one time thing. I can see your brain worrying from over here, Curt won’t find out.”

“Are you sure?” Frank asked, “Boys talk when they’re out drinking…”

“I’m sure,” Rose brushed a few stray hairs over her shoulder, “trust me—he won’t say anything about last night.”

Rose had a lot more faith in a man nicknamed ‘Hambone’ than Frank ever would, and the brunette shook her head lightly, “Speaking of Curt—is that a one time thing too or…?”

The woman to her left lifted a shoulder casually, “I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. He makes me laugh, and he’s really good in bed, so I wouldn’t be opposed to another night or two…”

“But not Hambone…”

“No,” Rose shook her head no, “no—I’m very serious when I say that I had my fill of pork last night.” Frank coughed, shaking her head back and forth rapidly as she choked on her spit while Rose grinned at her wickedly, the B-17 shifting side to side as Frank knocked the controls, “Serves you right for prying. I handle my affairs, Frank. You know that.”

“You’ve literally asked me what vegetable resembles Bucky’s penis!”

“Which I still don’t have an answer to, by the way,” Rose pointed out and Frank gave her a look of disbelief. “You have nothing to worry about, Frank. There won’t be any awkward exchanges or jealous run-ins like the ones in your books. We’re at war for fuck’s sake.”

The girls didn’t have too much longer to go in the air, and it wasn’t long before Frank landed the plane on an RAF base in Scotland—a very small and short runway, it obviously wasn’t made for the massive fortress, Frank coming to a stop just feet away from the runway’s edge. “Looks like we’ve got all ten,” Frank counted the men loitering on the edge of the runway, all of them looking pretty tired, “shouldn’t be long before we’re back in the air, I don’t think.”

“They’re already starting to refuel,” Rose pulled her gloves off, wiggling her eyebrows as she hopped out of her seat first, “let’s go see if there’s any promising young men out there, huh?” Frank rolled her eyes but followed Rose out of the plane, her boots landing on the tarmac, the wind blowing just a little harder in Scotland as they circled around the front of the plane. 

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Curt’s unmistakable voice echoed as he got to his feet, a wide grin across his face, “Not one, but two angels coming to our rescue? I’m dying, aren’t I?”

“You look pretty good if you are,” Rose called back and Curt wandered over, hands resting on his harness, “you’re lucky we were already at Thorpe when the assignment came across. Otherwise who knows who else might’ve shown up.”

“I don’t know whether to be happy to see you or disappointed that I wasn’t there last night.” Frank looked away as Curt slid a hand along Rose’s face, twirling a bit of her hair around his index finger, “But I guess that just means you’ll have to come back again, huh?”

“I guess so…”

Frank shook her head as she watched Rose and Curt exchange a lingering glance before Curt slipped his hands back into the pockets of his jacket, turning to look towards the rest of his crew, “Up you go, boys. Let’s not dawdle for these lovely ladies, alright? They’re got important things to do other than save our stranded asses.”

The boys all gathered their belongings before moving to board the B-17, moving into their normal positions despite it being unarmed. “Where’s your plane?” Frank asked as Curt walked between them. 

“Ah—in a field somewhere thataway,” Curt motioned vaguely in the opposite direction of the airfield, “they sent some of their mechanics down to look at it this morning. Might be a while before we see her again, though.”

“They’ll take good care of her, I’m sure…” Rose paused to allow Curt to hop onto the plane first before she followed after him, their voices trailing off as they moved through the body of the Fortress. Frank continued on around the plane, shaking hands with the airfield manager before he gave her a brief rundown of the events of the morning, Frank signing off on some of his paperwork before he wished them a safe flight back to England. She was the last on the plane, everyone’s bags stowed and their positions claimed, and it was the first time she’d flown a fortress with actual crew members in the correct positions, normally when she taxied soldiers around they were in larger planes or Fortresses that had been taken down to the bones and repurposed as a transport. It was a surreal moment—one she never would’ve thought she’d experience as she settled back into her seat. 

When she first joined the ATA she hoped to be able to fly something, anything that would take her off the ground and put her into the sky and as far away from her family and previous life as possible. There were rumors as she went through training that a lot of the women were grounded to desk jobs, and that they let more of the men fly, but she hadn’t seen any evidence that backed up those rumors.

“I’m surprised Bucky’s not here,” Curt said as Frank finished her preflight checks, Rose calling out in confirmation each time Frank asked for something. 

“LeMay is enoute,” Frank said of her shoulder.

“Oh, fuck me,” Curt groaned as he moved to hover between the two pilot’s seats, his head appearing beside their shoulders, “I forgot that was today. Shit—could you have some take off trouble, maybe? We’ll all just stay in Scotland another day?”

“I’m not so sure there’s anywhere for anyone to stay,” Rose glanced out the window at the empty farmland, the only things nearby were a few hangars and the control tower, “Where were you guys last night anyway? In the hangar?”

“A house down that way,” Curt pointed between them, “I’m sure we can find a pub or somethin’ nearby to get a room in…”

“As lovely as that sounds,” Frank reached over to start her first engine, the sound echoing all around, her voice raising to be heard, “we need to get this bird and the crew back to its home.”

Curt made a face and Rose chuckled softly, reaching over to pat his cheek before he settled back into his space near the navigator’s position, watching as the girls started all four engines before Frank took control of taxiing the aircraft around the runway. “Do you want the honors?” Frank asked as she lined up the Fortress, glancing towards Rose, “Impress your boyfriend?”

Rose lifted her middle finger in response and Frank laughed, “Just for that—yes, I’ll happily take control. But only for practice, it has nothing to do with Curt.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t.”

---

The sun was almost setting by the time Frank and Rose touched down at Ratcliffe, having caught a train to Cambridge before hitching a ride on a ferry the RAF was moving around after shuffling aircraft the day before. True to Bucky’s word, they hadn’t gotten a moment to say goodbye to one another and Frank was grateful they had taken the time before leaving for Scotland, just barely catching a glimpse of him as he and Buck exited Harding’s hut, one of the newest arrivals giving the girls a ride to the station since all of the brass was tied up. 

Frank and Rose waved to the pilot as they deplaned, hands wrapped around the handles of their bags and Frank nudged Rose with her shoulder, giving her a playful look as they walked towards the control tower, it was the first time they were alone and able to speak freely. “Was that a kiss I saw right after we landed at Thorpe Abbotts, or am I mistaken?”

“He could have died,” Rose said, a smile forming on her lips, “I was just offering him a bit of a celebratory greeting for…not dying.”

Frank hummed and Rose rolled her eyes, the girls waving and nodding to people they recognized as they passed, “Despite the air raid, last night was fun. I’m only sorry the bike race was interrupted.”

“I am sorry I missed that,” Rose said, “it sounds like a hoot. Too bad we don’t ever have any of that around here. Maybe we can convince Amelia to race next time we’re in Thussington…”

“You know who looks like an excellent bike rider?” Frank lifted her eyebrows as she caught sight of a familiar face stepping out of the building, “Dot.”

“Oh—you’re right,” Rose noticed the blonde next, her grin matching Frank’s as they exchanged knowing glances, approaching their commanding officer moments later, “Good evening, Commander!”

“That’s concerning,” Dorothy eyed them suspiciously, taking them in from head to toe, “do I want to know why it looks like you caught the canary?”

“How are you when it comes to bikes?” Frank asked as she and Rose came to a stop in front of Dorothy. 

“I can ride one, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dorothy frowned slightly, “quite well, in fact. Why? What’s the game?”

“Do you think you can beat Amelia?” Rose asked. 

“She’s tall, though,” Frank pointed out, the redhead nodding slowly, “probably pretty good with her legs…”

“Are we racing…?”

“God, I hope so,” Rose nudged Dorothy’s arm as she walked around her, “are we going to the pub tonight? I could really use a drink.”

“Bad time?”

“No!” Rose wiggled her fingers to wave goodbye, already moving down the path away from the tower in the direction of their quarters, “Fantastic time!”

“Do I want to know?” Dorothy asked now that it was just the two of them. 

“She had sex last night,” Frank said and Dorothy nodded in understanding, “a satisfied Rose is a happy Rose, you know that.”

“Yes—I think we’re all aware of that,” Dorothy said. “What about you, do we have a happy Frank?”

“No,” Frank said as Dorothy nodded towards the administration building, the girls walking towards it, “not in that way, at least. My period started right before we took off yesterday.”

“Talk about bad luck,” Dorothy opened the door and the girls ducked inside, winding around the group of desks in the darkened room on the way to Dorothy’s. When they arrived, Dorothy turned on the small desk lamp before she took a seat, motioning to Frank to do the same. “Nice flying weather, though?”

“Yes, thankfully.” Frank placed her bag down beside the desk before she took the chair, leaning back as Dorothy sorted through a few folders on her desk, “Everything ok?”

“Yes and no,” Dorothy opened one, sighing as she ran a hand along her forehead, “I have two things. The first—after the air raid yesterday, the ATA decided on a new policy. We won’t be sending pilots on assignments together anymore. With the growing whispers of further bombings, we can’t afford to lose anymore of our people. So you and Rose won’t be flying together anymore, starting tomorrow.”

“Oh Dorothy…”

“Norwich was a close call,” Dorothy said, “I’m just glad you two were far enough away, but it was close enough that Maidenhead sent out the memo this morning, effective tomorrow until further notice.”

“Ok,” Frank sighed, not at all surprised by the change. After they took the potential of women flying outside of the UK off the table, she knew there would be more changes to follow. “And the second?”

Dorothy pulled out an envelope from one of her folders before she slid it across the desk, Frank’s heart stopping as she caught sight of the handwriting on the front of it, “This letter arrived for you this morning from Texas.”

Notes:

Thank you all for reading and for hanging with me!!! I got sick a week or so ago and it's been kicking my butt! I tested negative for everything, but had all the standard covid symptoms. From what I gather it's going around, so take care of yourselves! I can't wait to read your thoughts!! And the cliffhanger!! Who is the letter from?! 👀

 

And as always, if you'd like to chat about our characters or story, you can always find me on Tumblr here where I also post updates and answer questions!

Chapter 34: XXXIV

XXXIV.

Frank ashed her cigarette, glaring into the evening sky, watching as the smoke she exhaled from her mouth lifted upwards towards the stars, disappearing before it even reached the roof of the building she sat under. There wasn’t much light except for the orange glow when she inhaled, her wrist slouching as she gently ran her open palm against her forehead, twisting and pulling the little bits of hair along her temples—needing something to do that didn’t involve picking at her cuticles. It was a habit she developed as a girl, alternating between the hair twirling and the picking, depending on which one she’d recently been scolded for doing, and it was still a habit she had to this day. One that reared its ugly head only in the most stressful of times. 

This shouldn’t have been that big of an issue. She’d experienced many close calls, had several near-misses throughout her time with the ATA, argued with and looked into the eyes of some of the most intimidating men she would ever meet, but none of those situations or people held a candle to her family—and what a fucked up bunch they were. Two parents, three sisters…none of whom Frank thought of fondly.

She wasn’t sure how they found her, wasn’t sure how anyone knew to even look for her here and she could feel the bubble in the middle of her chest growing larger, the space growing tighter each time she thought about it. No one knew she was here. She had no friends back in California. Colleagues and acquaintances, sure. But none of them knew where she’d gone or what her plans were. It was intentional—she didn’t want a trail. The closest thing to disappearing, the closest thing to dying. If she could make it out of the country, across the ocean, and spend the rest of her time on foreign soil would it be far enough?

Clearly not. 

Frank flung the sealed envelope onto the ground, the material gliding along the stone walkway, the edges wrinkling and bending unhappily once it found a place. The heel of her shoe landed on it seconds later, marking it with a dirty footprint. She inhaled deeply, holding the smoke for a few seconds before it slowly filtered out through her nostrils, her chin dropping to glare down at the corner of the cream colored envelope, her youngest sister’s handwriting gleaming back at her in the low light. Agnes Frank did always have the neatest penmanship of the sisters and Frank lost track of how many times the women at church commented on it, the young girl often being roped into writing out wedding invitations and important correspondence. 

The door behind her opened and a sliver of yellow casted out across the walkway and street, the sound of footsteps approaching after, “Are you going to read it or not?” 

“Not.” Frank exhaled another bout of smoke as she listened to Rose shuffle over and plop down beside her, shoulder knocking into her own. 

“Why aren’t you going to read it?”

“Because there’s nothing in that letter that would make my life better.” Frank twirled the half smoked cigarette between her fingers, frowning at it, “That part of my life died when my marriage ended, Rose. I don’t have any interest in giving it a wake.”

Rose hummed, leaning over to rest her head along Frank’s shoulder, the still evening air silent around them as the girls sat together. But in true Rose fashion, the quiet didn’t last for long, “Do you want me to read it?”

Frank lifted a shoulder, bringing her fingers up to her mouth to inhale from the cigarette again, smoke escaping her mouth as she spoke, “If you like. I don’t want to know anything about it, though.”

Rose moved quickly and Frank rolled her eyes at her friend’s lack of decorum, watching as her friend reached for it, dusting off the bit of dirt that smeared across it after Frank tossed it down. “Did Dorothy read it?”

“No,” Frank shook her head, “I assume not—she didn’t say she had. It’s already been looked over to make sure nothing nefarious is going on, you can see that it was resealed at the end.”

“Something tells me your sister is probably not holding Nazi secrets, but one can never be too careful, I suppose.” Rose tugged on the end of it, ripping it before she pulled out the matching cream colored paper, her sister’s monogram appeared on the folded letterhead. Rose paused, but Frank could see the raging curiosity behind her eyes, “Are you sure you don’t mind if I read it?”

“As long as you keep your mouth shut,” Frank said, “we won’t be friends if you tell me about it.”

“Just in case there’s something important worth celebrating, you know…like your ex-husband’s been arrested or is in jail or something…” Frank snorted and Rose pushed herself to her feet, turning so Frank wouldn’t be able to catch a glimpse of any of the writing, the brunette watching as her friend unfolded it. Her eyes searched across it intently and small frown lines appeared between her eyebrows. Several long seconds passed before Rose slowly folded it back up, an unreadable expression across her face while she took a seat beside Frank again, staring out into the dark evening. “Got a light?”

Frank nodded, reaching for her lighter and handed it to Rose, expecting the girl to light up her own cigarette, but instead Rose held the corner of the letter over the flame, both pilots watching it smoke as the orange flames licked upwards, the paper catching a moment or so later. Rose held it out and watched it burn, her eyes trained on the fire as it greedily gobbled up the letter before dropping it to the ground only after the flames teased her nails, a decent amount of smoke wafting up after it was fully engulfed. 

“Not good news, I take it?” Frank tapped the cigarette before taking a long drag. 

“No,” Rose reached for the pack beside Frank, pulling out a fresh one before lighting it, shaking it out before inhaling, “nothing of interest to you, at least.”

Frank hummed, nudging her knee against Rose’s, their eyes meeting, “Thanks for checking.”

“Anytime,” Rose said, “if it makes you feel better. She doesn’t know where you are—the letter didn’t come directly here.”

Frank snorted, dragging a hand along her face to rest at the back of her neck, “That does make me feel better, actually.”

The girls smoked for several long minutes, Rose about halfway done with her cigarette when Frank stomped hers out. “Do you want to come in for a drink?” Rose asked, glancing towards the pub behind them, “Dorothy sent me out to see if you wanted to join us.”

“Yeah…” Frank stretched her arms out, pushing herself into a standing position, “I think I will actually. A cocktail sounds lovely.”

Rose stood and opened the door, Frank nodding to her before she walked in, but not before she snuck a look over her shoulder at the pile of ashes on the walkway—the only reminder of home that she needed. 

The bar was lively, the girls wandering through the groups of people to the table in the back they always sat at, Dorothy already there nursing a cigarette of her own, tracking both Frank and Rose their entire walk in. “Well?” Dorothy asked, tapping her cigarette on the ashtray placed in the middle of the table. 

Frank’s only response was to reach for the half finished drink Dorothy had resting beside her hand, her friend’s eyebrows only raising further as she watched Frank drown it before nodding towards the bar, face pulled into a half grimace, half wince when the alcohol hit her quickly, “Another?”

Dorothy looked at the redhead nervously and Rose bit down onto her lip before she took a few steps away, “I’ll uh—get the next round.”

Frank slipped into the seat, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes and Dorothy leaned over to rest her hand on her elbow, thumb stroking soft, comforting circles on her friend’s arm. “You’re going to get through this,” Dorothy said softly, their conversation staying between them, “you’ve already been through so much—this is nothing compared to that. Even if they know where you are, you’re still so far away. They won’t make it here, and even if they did, it will be a frosty day in hell before they make it through the gate.” Frank snorted, shaking her head as Dorothy’s small half smile appeared across her lips. “Chin up, Captain,” Dorothy squeezed her arm, “don’t give them any more of your time or energy, alright? You’ve got much more important things to think about.”

Frank inhaled raggedly, nodding slowly as she watched Rose wander back over with three drinks, placing the cocktails down before taking the seat beside Frank, her hand moving to run across her friend’s shoulders, “We’re here for you, Frankie.”

Frank shoved Rose’s hand off immediately and Rose giggled as the brunette rolled her eyes, Dorothy’s smile widening out as they watched a very small one pull at the corner of Frank’s mouth, “Thank you, Rosie.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Amelia slipped into the seat beside Dorothy, her hair disheveled and not even Rose bothered to point out that one of the buttons on her sweater was in the wrong hole, “what did I miss?”

“Frank got a letter from home,” Rose toyed with the stem of her glass, “but she didn’t read it and we’re celebrating freedom tonight. Freedom from family, from our former lives, and from anyone who wants to keep us down.”

“Amen.”

Dorothy snorted at Frank’s response and Amelia smiled softly, leaning over to slide her hand across the back of Frank’s, “We’re here if you need to talk.”

“Thanks, ‘Melia.”

“Is Rose going by Rosie tonight?” Amelia shrugged her overcoat off, pulling the subject away from Frank, “Did she finally lose to Frank at darts?”

“Bite your tongue,” Rose blanched, “I would never wager something as important as my name.”

Dorothy chuckled before she lifted her drink, taking a very small slip while Frank took a second very healthy one of her own. “Wait, wait, wait,” Rose waved her hand in the air, lifting her glass as the other girls looked at her with wide eyes, “we aren’t animals!”

Dorothy rolled her eyes playfully, lifting her glass to hold beside Rose’s as Frank held her own up. “I don’t have one!” Amelia’s eyes widened out and Rose exhaled in frustration, “Let me go order—”

“Just pretend,” Rose hissed and Dorothy only laughed again, Amelia miming holding up a cocktail in the air beside the other three. “To us,” she said, looking each of the girls in the eyes, “No matter what happens in the world outside this pub, we won’t be defined by what we don’t have, but by what we do: courage, heart, and friendship. We will face whatever comes, together, because we are women—and that’s a power no one will take from us.”

The glasses clinked together and Amelia smiled as she knocked knuckles with the others. “What are we celebrating tonight?”

Rose swallowed a mouthful of alcohol, waving to Frances as she approached, tiny droplets of water dotting her uniform covered shoulders. “You made it!”

Frances pulled up one of the chairs, nodding to the rest of the girls, “It started to rain, but I was already halfway here so I thought I’d push through—a good day in the air?”

“Another happy landing,” Rose nodded, “was everything well in the infirmary today?”

“No complaints,” Frances pushed some of her dark hair off her forehead, leaning an elbow onto the table as she adjusted the hem of her skirt, “a fairly slow day, actually.”

“I need a drink,” Amelia stood after she glanced towards Frank’s half-empty drink, “Frances, can I get you one?”

“That would be lovely, Amelia, thank you.” Frances tucked one foot under the other, “The weather sure is temperamental, it didn’t even look like rain a few hours ago.”

“It’s part of the charm, I’m afraid,” Dorothy smiled from behind her cigarette, “you’ll get used to it soon enough. I just always assume I’m going to be caught in it.”

“Good advice,” Frances chuckled softly, “are we celebrating tonight, or…?”

“We’re celebrating us tonight,” Rose spared a glance towards Frank, watching as she finished her drink, “and the fact that we all crossed paths here.”

“A lovely thing to celebrate,” Frances reached into her own handbag, fumbling for a cigarette and thanking Dorothy softly for allowing her to borrow the lighter, “the atmosphere is very friendly, I’ve noticed. I’m not sure what I expected—we heard horror stories at home, although now I’m almost certain it was just to prevent us from leaving the security of our homes. But all of the girls and doctors are lovely, and the training we’ve received so far…amazing. Truely.”

“Where are you off to next?” Frank asked as she angled her body towards Frances, although her eyes swept across the bar before, “Do you have a set rotation?”

“No, I’m afraid we won’t know until the week before we’re set to rotate,” Frances shook her head, the three women all glancing towards Amelia as she wandered around the table to place Frances’ drink in front of her, “but I do hope to be back here eventually.”

“We’ll give you a proper send off,” Rose promised as Frances sipped her drink, “and then a huge welcome back party when you return.”

“Oh gracious—no party,” Frances laughed, “just buy me a few rounds.”

“Done and done,” Rose watched Frank stand, eyes tracking her friend when she motioned towards the bar before she exchanged a look with Dorothy. 

“Has my brother gone and put a foot up his ass already?” Frances sent her own worried look towards Frank, “I hoped that since he appears to be attempting to settle down that he’d at least mind his manners a little more…”

“No, no,” Rose was quick to jump in, “no—nothing like that at all. No, he definitely hasn’t. Although, I’m not sure I could put up with the snoring…”

“He could wake the dead,” Frances scoffed, “the cabin’s walls are thin and when he’s drunk enough…”

Rose and Amelia both laughed and Dorothy snorted into her drink. “It’s her family,” Dorothy placed her drink on the table, answering Frances’ original question, “Frank didn’t leave on the best terms with them, and she recently received a letter from her sister. That’s all.”

Frances hummed, shooting a sympathetic look towards the girl waiting at the bar, “That is terrible. I can’t even imagine not being close with mine. We have our share of problems, sure, but going without speaking to either of my siblings would be very hard.”

“Things are strained with my mother, but as someone who’s lost a brother,” Rose glanced down at her drink, eyes unreadable, “I couldn’t ever imagine it before either.”

Frances leaned over to rest a hand on her new friend’s wrist, Amelia rubbing a comforting hand along Rose’s shoulder, “I’m so sorry, Rose.”

“The war’s taken a lot,” Rose lifted her drink to take a healthy sip, “but I won’t allow it to take anymore. That I do know.”

“You ladies look like you’re having a good night.” Four heads turned to watch a man in an RAF uniform approach, his smile wide and eyes sparkling, just a hint of alcohol on his breath, “Do you mind if I join you?”

“It’s a closed table, I’m afraid,” Dorothy was the first to speak up, although she didn’t miss the way the man’s eyes lingered on Frances in her uniform, “but there does appear to be many empty chairs around, so I don’t think you’ll have any trouble finding another.”

The man glanced towards the empty chair beside Dorothy, “There does appear to be one—”

“It’s reserved for heavy drinking and swearing tonight,” Frank appeared behind the man, startling him enough that he turned to see who managed to approach without him noticing, watching her push between him and the table to claim her chair. Frank’s move forced the man back a step and Rose had to cough to cover her amused laugh, “So if you’re trying to get up someone’s skirt, I’d look elsewhere.” Frank’s ass hit the chair hard, a quarter of her drink already gone as she looked back at the man, eyebrows raised as if to silently ask why he was still there, his lips parted and mouth open as he tried to search for a response. “Good night?”

Rose wasn’t able to keep the laugh back any longer, the man taking a few steps away before moving towards a different table, but not before sending a puzzled look over his shoulder at their table. “Is it bad if I love drunk Frank?” Amelia’s own laughter died down as Rose reached across the table to tap Frank’s glass with her own. 

“I’m not drunk yet,” was Frank’s only response as she took another healthy sip. 

“I completely get it now,” Frances exhaled a round of smoke, a smile across her face that looked an awful lot like Bucky’s, “not that I couldn’t before, don't get me wrong. But now I see why my brother did a complete one-eighty.”

“Being a skilled pilot isn’t the only reason Frank flies the big boys,” Rose leaned heavily back in her chair, “tell her about the time you chewed a Wing Commander's ass out.”

Frank rolled her eyes. 

“That is one of my favorite stories,” Dorothy laughed quietly to herself. “It was one of the first calls I received after becoming your CO. I knew then it was only going to get better.”

“It wasn’t that big of a thing,” a very light blush covered Frank’s cheeks and Amelia shook her head in Frances’ direction, disagreeing with Frank’s statement. 

“I remember that one—it almost got you sent back to Maidenhead.”

“They shot at me!” Frank’s voice cracked and Rose nudged Amelia, both girls laughing at riling their friend up further, “I was landing for the first time there and they’d been trying to catch my attention on the radio. Well—surprise, surprise, there are no radios! So I had no idea and their only solution after that was to shoot at my wing!”

“Oh heavens, no!” Frances pressed her free hand to her mouth, “Were you alright?”

“Yes,” Frank leaned back with a scoff, “it was a warning shot. But how am I supposed to signal that we’re on the same side in the air? Like look at the fucking plane, perhaps?”

“It gets better every time she tells it,” Rose’ face was slowly turning red at how hard she was laughing, “it’s my favorite. Honestly.”

“Maybe take a look at your fucking log?” Frank sipped more of her drink, “Who’s scheduled to land today? Oh—ATA ferry from the #6 pool. But no—must be the Luftwaffe in the middle of the day, coming from northern England in a Tiger Moth.”

“I have no idea what any of that means,” Frances laughed now too, joining in with Amelia and Rose, “but I can only imagine how spirited you were when you got off.”

“We had to get her off the base quickly,” Dorothy’s voice held a tone of laughter as she spoke, “needless to say. You haven’t been back to that one since, now have you?”

“No, and I don’t ever expect to,” Frank sighed. “What a mess.”

“She’ll have enough stories to fill the dinner table,” Rose crossed one leg over the other before she glanced at Frank, “although, perhaps don’t tell that one until after you’ve met the entire family…”

Frank rolled her eyes and Frances giggled into her drink, “I doubt anyone would find any of these stories interesting, Rose.”

“No, no,” Frances shook her head, “I completely disagree—my mother’s going to want to hear everything you have to say. My sister too. Several times, probably. They’ll want the entire story.”

Frank’s face was a cross between a grimace and a smile and Dorothy laughed loudly at that one, leaning over to pat her knee, “It’s alright, Frank, we’ll practice them beforehand.”

“I’m not sure that makes me feel better…”

“Just lose a few ‘fucks’ and you’re golden.”

Frank gave her friend the side eye, not at all missing Rose’s double meaning, “Helpful as ever, Rose. Thank you.”

The ginger haired girl lifted her drink theatrically, “Cheers!”

“What is your family like?” Dorothy ashed her cigarette before she reached for her drink, “You mentioned you’re close?”

“Yes, very,” Frances nodded, “there’s been a little strain from time to time. John joining the airforce was a bit of a shock my parents had to work through at first. But we’re doing well now—when he remembers to write, of course. Are you close with yours? You’re from England…?”

“Mhmm,” Dorothy nodded, “not too far away, actually. My parents are well, they own a little farm up north. Less than an hour's flight. We’ve never been close, though. I hear from them at Christmas and Easter, before the war I’d see them every so often for the holidays, but I spent most of my time in London before the Blitz.”

“Eileen moved the furthest away,” Frances said, “our little sister—so I understand how the distance must feel, even if you weren’t very close.”

“Some days it was to much,” Dorothy glanced towards her drink, “others not far enough. But the friends I made there, and here, have more than made up for it.”

Rose cooed playfully and Amelia laughed, Dorothy rolling her eyes as Rose asked, “Do you love us, Dot?”

“Like a needle in my eye, darling.”

---

It was a few hours later when Rose helped her very drunk friend through the doorway and down the hall towards their quarters, the girls having left Amelia and Frances at the pub to finish their game of darts. Dorothy shook her head from behind as she watched Rose place her down on the cot, but Frank shoved her hands away when she tried to take her jacket off. “You’re such a cow when you’re drunk,” Rose mumbled, pushing Frank so she would roll over, neither of the girls wanting their friend to choke on her own vomit in her sleep. 

“I think she’s already asleep,” Dorothy said as Rose stood to her full height, both girls staring down at the disheveled and exhausted girl in front of them, eyes closed and breathing even. “I didn’t expect her to have more than three drinks, if I’m being honest.”

“It’s hard to tell with Frank,” Rose whispered back, nodding towards the doorway, Dorothy following Rose’s lead back to the hallway. 

When they were alone, Dorothy asked, “Did she read it?”

Rose shook her head, taking a moment to lean against the wall, her own brain fuzzy from the alcohol, but thankfully she found herself in a better position than Frank—the brunette a bit of a lightweight compared to the other girls she lived and flew with, “No—but I did.”

Dorothy’s eyes widened, reaching forward to grip Rose’s arm, “What did it say? Who was it from?”

“Agnes,” Rose said, “but I don’t know which—”

“Youngest,” Dorothy motioned Rose to continue, “go on.”

“It’s really fucked up, Dot,” Rose shook her head, running her hand along her throat before she rested it on her upper arm, “like an absolute disaster—she’s getting married.”

“Why is that a dis—”

“To Frank’s ex-husband.”

Dorothy’s audible gasp may have been humorous in another situation, but Rose only watched her friend’s face fall, hand pressed to her chest as she looked for any hint of a joke, searching Rose’s face, but she found none. “You must be joking, Rose. Tell me you’re joking…”

“Wish I was,” Rose said, “they’re getting married at the end of the month. She said something about an arrangement between the families and that it would fulfill the previous one? I’m not sure, I don’t know all the details of Frank’s situation, but she’s basically asking for Frank’s blessing.”

“That day will most certainly never come.” Dorothy inhaled sharply, “She must never find out, Rose. This stays between us.”

“Never,” Rose shook her head, “she said as much when I asked if I could read it. She doesn’t want to know. But do you think she’ll get curious and wonder…? Do you think she’ll ask me later on?”

“No,” Dorothy shook her head, “no—not about this. It’s best she doesn’t know, I’d have to ground her if she did. I’m already concerned about her mental state as it is after how many drinks she had. I’ll have to evaluate it tomorrow before I send her up.”

“Do you think we should tell Bucky?” Rose asked, moving to fold her arms across her chest, voice dropping further. “Is this something he should be aware of? The marriage and all…her sister…”

Dorothy thought for several long seconds before she shook her head sharply, “No, it’s none of his business, either. This stays here. Between us. Understand?”

Rose nodded slowly, exhaling a steady stream of air through her mouth, “How do you think they knew she was in England? It looked like it was forwarded around, so I don’t think they knew she was here at Ratcliffe…but they definitely knew to reach her in England.”

Dorothy sucked the side of her cheek in, lips pursed as she glanced over Rose’s shoulder at the exterior doors, a cloudy look crossing her face, “I have my suspicions. An eye for an eye, it seems.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“You wouldn’t, no,” Dorothy glanced back at Rose, a tight smile falling across her face, “don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” 

“Should I be concerned?”

The Commander only hummed, lifting a shoulder slightly, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, it’ll come back to me. But that’s part of the job, right? I have to protect my girls.”

Rose rolled her eyes playfully before nudging Dorothy’s shoulder before she tried to mimic Dorothy’s accent, although the cross between Rose’s natural twang and Dorothy’s proper tone was humorous. “Whatever you say, mum. Whatever you say.”

Notes:

I'm so sorry for the delay this chapter. I was having some trouble writing while I waited for my MRI results. Thankfully nothing too concerning, it's as we expected with advanced endometriosis and a few cysts, but hopefully we can take care of some of that in surgery. I appreciate all of you who reached out and everyone who reads this story. It means a lot.

And, in the light of the election devastation, I hope you're taking time for yourself and finding something to find joy in. I didn't want to write at first with everything feeling so numb, but I couldn't imagine a better story to live in and write than one featuring bad-ass women pilots in an age where they had less freedoms than we in America do now.

I think we all needed Rose's toast. I know I did.

Tell me your thoughts, and I do hope to see you very soon next chapter!

Chapter 35: XXXV

XXXV.

“There she is!”

Frank exhaled as picked up the pace, pulling her jacket over her shoulders as she hurried across the tarmac, shoes clacking. “I’m sorry,” Frank handed her bag over to Dorothy, her friend motioning for it as she approached, “I lost track of time while I was getting ready…”

“Oh it’s alright—”

“We almost left without you.”

Amelia giggled at Rose’s reply and Frank rolled her eyes, “Thanks, Rose.”

“Just trying to be frank with you.” Frank’s unimpressed look had all the girls laughing, Rose leaning over to link arms with her friend as they moved towards the waiting aircraft, “Don’t be sore, of course we’d never leave. Especially not when we’re venturing to the far and distant lands of East Anglia.”

Dorothy climbed into the plane first, glancing over her shoulder, “She had a cocktail at dinner.”

“That explains it.” Frank climbed in after and Rose and Amelia brought up the rear. Frank assumed the plane would be empty, but was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face sitting inside. “Frances! You were able to get away!”

“Yes,” she waved to them from her seat, the girls moving into the empty spaces around her, “I was able to get a twelve hour pass and then I traded my morning shift for Sunday evening.”

“Oh that’s wonderful!” Rose brushed some of her meticulously styled curls over her shoulder, the lipstick she wore brought out her bright eyes and paired well with her deep purple dress, “I’m so glad!”

“They were happy to trade after hearing I would be visiting my only brother,” Frances said, the way her smile wavered briefly not at all escaped Frank, “especially when they heard it was the 100th…”

It was no secret to the other bases on the island, both foreign and domestic, that the 100th Bomb Group was slowly carving out a name for itself—but not in the way one would hope. The group seemed to be taking on more and more mechanical loss and human casualties than any other group in the 8th Air Force, a fact that neither Frank nor Frances were unaware of. “It’s going to be a fun party,” Rose fluffed the pleated skirt of her dress, tucking one leg behind the other the way a ‘proper’ southern woman would, “I’m so excited for you to meet all the boys.”

“I am also eager to meet your gentleman callers,” Dorothy pulled a cigarette from her bag, taking a moment to light it before taking a lengthy drag, smoke wafting upwards towards the top of the plane. 

“Curt doesn’t call me—”

“A figure of speech, darling,” Dorothy patted Rose’s knee and Frances giggled. “Amelia, are you still bunking with me at the pub or would you like to see where your evening takes you?”

“My evening won’t be taking me anywhere,” Amelia leaned back against the side of the plane, the girls feeling the exterior doors slide into place, “so I’ll happily share your room, Dot.”

“I believe there are only two single beds,” Dorothy glanced towards Frances, “or I would offer you the same…”

“Please,” Frances waved her off, “I haven’t spent an evening alone since before I left home. I’m happy to enjoy some solitude tonight after the party.”

Frank and Rose exchanged glances and Frank had to lift her hand to cover her smile at the look of absolute faux confusion across Rose’s face, “I don’t remember receiving any offer to share…”

Dorothy’s flat look had Frank losing her laughter completely as the sound of the plane starting up echoed all around, the vibrations familiar, although a little different from inside the belly rather than the cockpit. “We all know neither of you will be available to share…”

Rose pressed the palm of her hand to her chest and Frank only covered her mouth with her hand, “Dorothy—now what are you implying?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m insinuating.” 

Rose only winked and Dorothy shook her head, turning to look at Frances, “I hope you enjoy your peace this evening. Lord knows with this group you’ve deserved it.”

“I enjoy it,” Frances assured them, “it reminds me of being back home with my girlfriends. It’s a lovely distraction—just the other day I witnessed a finger being amputated...”

“Oh God,” Amelia squeezed her eyes closed, “I don’t know how you’re handling that—I’d vomit. Everywhere. Absolutely not.”

Frank shook her head in agreement, “That does sound horrifying.”

“What happens to the bone—”

“Perhaps a different question?” Dorothy shot Rose a look when Amelia’s face immediately turned a shade of green, “How much longer do we have you, Frances?”

“Not too much longer, I’m afraid,” Frances said, “but I’m told I’ll be back in rotation at Ratcliffe before long!”

“We look forward to your return,” Dorothy said, “any base will be lucky to have you.”

“That’s very kind.” Frances brushed a bit of debris off her own hunter green skirt, “How long is the flight to Thorpe Abbotts?”

“About forty-five minutes,” Dorothy estimated, “give or take the visibility and the speed. We’re in a pretty big girl, so it could be closer to fifty.”

“Our record is twenty-nine,” Rose glanced towards Frank, who only gave Dorothy her best innocent look. 

“Do I want to know…?”

“No,” Frak cleared her throat, “no—I don’t think so.”

Everyone laughed and even Dorothy cracked a smile, the girls all pausing their conversation as the plane taxied along the runway, prepared to take off. The rest of their flight was filled with small talk and laughter, the girls all excited for an evening out together. Something that didn’t happen very often. When Bucky first told her of the party, Frank worried none of the other girls would be able to manage coming, but after running it by Dorothy and letting her friend and CO sit on it for a bit, she worked her magic and got them all off on the same Saturday evening. She couldn’t remember the last time that happened. Pub nights? Sure. But overnight passes for all of them? Almost unheard of. 

“It’s tough times for everyone,” Dorothy explained a few days ago after seeing Frank’s surprised look, “and the brass know that. If they can throw us a bone, they will.”

Frank wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Not yet, at least. 

True to Dorothy’s word, the wide bodied plane landed fifty-two minutes later on one of Thorpe Abbott’s far runways. The pilots bid them goodbye, happy to make a stop on their way up North, and as the girls hopped out of the plane Frank wasn’t at all surprised to see a jeep waiting, the boyish half smile that greeted them making her heart flutter. 

“Well, well, well,” Bucky pushed himself off the side of the jeep, taking in all the girls, “look what we have here—the ATA’s finest, huh?”

“England’s finest,” Rose corrected, moving towards the jeep, “gracious, it’s colder over here!”

“Wind’ll cut you if you’re not careful.” Bucky turned to glance towards his sister, eyes twinkling as he held his arms out, “Long time, no see, huh?”

“John,” Frances threw her arms around her brother’s neck, hugging him tightly and Bucky held her back just as fiercely. Towering over Frances, just as he did all the women in his family, the toes of her shoes just barely grazed the tarmac as he squeezed her, Frances smiling when her feet touched back down. “You look well.”

“Thanks,” Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, hat tucked under one arm, “the shower’s really working…”

Frances rolled her eyes, taking a step back as she held onto his elbows, “Let me look at you—yes, still the same as I remember. A few added pins, I see. You’re doing well? Eating well?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky’s eyes shifted sideways over his sister’s shoulder, not able to go too long without glancing towards Frank, “better than I expected, I think.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Frances said, “you’ll have to show me around so I can give mom the full visual while I’m here. I’m afraid she imagines you all in the woods with pitched tents.”

“Not yet, at least,” Bucky laughed softly, “I’m sure you’ll tell her everything…”

Frances picked up on his double meaning quickly, her own eyebrows wiggling as he rolled his eyes, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, I’m sure that you do.” He patted her shoulder, sending her a sly wink before he stepped around his sister to move towards the breath of fresh air in polka dots, Frank’s eyes tracking him as he approached. 

He lifted his hand to stroke his knuckle along her cheek bone, eyeing her from heels to hair, taking in each of the details until their eyes met, the couple taking a second despite being surrounded by four of her friends, one of whom was related to the man in front of her. Frank attempted to not let any awkwardness settle, following Bucky’s lead as he brushed his thumb against her cheekbone before sharing a small smile with her and only her. 

“Good evening, Captain.”

Frank let a very quiet breath of laughter escape her lips, eyes searching his as his twinkled down at her, “Majo—”

“For fuck’s sake, just kiss her.” 

Rose’s annoyed outburst caught everyone’s attention, Amelia gasping in surprise as Frances laughed in amusement, Dorothy swatting Rose’s hip with her handbag, “To the car, with you.”

Frank knew her face was as red as Dorothy’s lipstick, she could feel the heat oozing from her cheeks and Bucky only grinned back down at her before he dropped his head and kissed her. It was meant to be soft, but seeing how all of their chaste kisses were slowly becoming less innocent, it didn’t stay that way. Frank slipped her hand up Bucky’s chest and over his shoulder, feeling his arm wrap around her before he pulled her into his chest, the hand that cupped her cheek sliding down to the side of her throat as he angled her head. She kissed him back, Bucky’s smile pressing into her own and she could feel his amusement vibrate in his chest. 

However, before things could shift further, and before either of them got into any trouble, Frank broke the kiss. Bucky attempted to chase her lips, but she lifted her fingers to his chin, wiping away the lipstick that smeared from her mouth to his. Her voice was low, keeping it between them as she breathed a soft, “Easy, Major…”

Bucky’s growl was absolutely only for her and Frank’s toes tingled as he pressed his forehead to hers, “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

She hummed, feeling his open palm slide across her waist, his eyes shifting to take in her dress again, “Thank you—you look sharp as well.”

He pecked her before Frank could stop him and she smiled anyway, hand moving to thumb the corner of his mouth where a little bit of lipstick remained. He slung his arm around her neck, holding her against his side as they walked towards the jeep, the others far enough away to give them the illusion of privacy. Although Rose’s knowing smirk and Frances’ soft eyes told Frank there wasn’t any. 

“You looked like cousins,” Rose said as Bucky opened the passenger door, holding Frank’s hand as she climbed in. “Didn’t want Frannie here to get the wrong idea, now…”

“Yes, thank you, Rose,” Frank’s response was dry and Bucky snorted as he closed the door behind her, moving to take the driver’s seat after confirming all the girls and their belongings were loaded in, “helpful as ever.”

“Leave them be,” Dorothy warned her friend, sandwiched between the back of the truck and Rose, “we’ve only just arrived.”

Bucky took the girls into town, waving to people both on base and off as he drove, pointing out landmarks and areas to his sister, Frances sitting directly behind him. He parked in front of the pub, just around the corner and helped the girls out, making sure everyone had their belongings, his hand gliding down Frank’s back as they made their way inside. 

His long fingers rested on the small off her back and Frank took comfort in the way his side pressed into her as they waited for Anne to round up all of the keys for their rooms. “Does she know…?”

“Your sister knows a lot more than I think either of us originally wanted,” Frank said under her breath, head turned so only he could hear as Anne slid her key across the bar, “you can thank Rose for that, later.”

“She knows I’m no saint,” Bucky pulled a face at his sister after catching her looking back their way, Frances only snorting in response. Bucky kept her attention as he said just a little louder, “And unless she wants mom to find out why the ancient headboard in the guest room broke the summer after graduation, she’ll keep her mouth shut.”

Frances scowled in return and Bucky only grinned widely as he watched her follow Rose up the set of stairs where the rooms were. “At least wait until we’ve had a few drinks to blackmail your sister,” Frank rested her temple against his upper arm and Bucky squeezed her elbow softly, glancing down at the girl beside him. 

With Amelia and Dorothy retrieving their keys, Bucky pivoted to lean against the bar, his fingers lacing with Frank’s as he pulled her towards him, eyes trailing across her face, taking in the faint marks under her eyes that she attempted to hide with powder. “Everything ok?”

Frank nodded, despite them both knowing it was a lie, and she closed her eyes when he cupped the side of her face, thumb swiping along the space below her eye for emphasis, “We can talk about it later.”

Bucky shot a sideways glance towards Amelia’s retreating figure, warning bells going off in his head, “Does it have anything to do with…?”

“No,” Frank shook her head, falling further into his chest as she pressed a soft, chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I’m ok—just a few sleepless nights. Let me stash my bag and we can get on with the evening…”

Bucky pulled her back when Frank took a step away, taking a quick moment to kiss her again, before her friends or his sister returned, ready to tease the couple. “Need some help?”

“Not unless you really want your sister to know we’ve gone to bed unwed.”

Bucky laughed loudly, releasing Frank’s hand and she winked back at him before disappearing up the stairs. Dorothy was waiting in the hallway for Rose and Amelia to freshen up while Frances finished placing her things on the bed of her own room, pulling the door closed behind her. “You’re further down the hall,” Dorothy nodded to a few doors on the opposite side of the hall as Frances, “you can thank me later.”

Frank shot her an appreciative look before she too placed her bag down and returned to the hall, ready to enjoy an evening of fun with her best girlfriends and the pilot who made her heart soar. 

---

Introductions went well after they arrived at the Officers’ Club, the boys all happy to meet fresh faces, as well as someone directly related to Major John Egan. No doubt hoping to hear childhood stories they could tease him with later. “It’s so good to see you again,” Frances greeted Buck as an old friend, the two embracing lightly, “How is Marge? Is she well?”

“Mhmm,” Buck nodded, the light blush that always covered his cheeks when he spoke about his sweetheart appearing, “she’s doing well—at home with her folks, for now. I got a letter from her just the other day.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Frances said. “I look forward to the day we can catch up, she did always tell the funniest stories the few weeks you spent with us in Manitowoc.”

“I’ll tell her you said that,” Buck smiled, “she’ll appreciate it. No matter how many times I tell her she’s funny, she just never believes me.”

Frances laughed at that, leaning against the bar beside her brother’s best friend, glancing over her shoulder in the direction the man himself stood, his hand resting along the curve of Frank’s waist as they introduced Dorothy to Kidd. “Speaking of something no one will believe…” Frances leveled her gaze and Buck’s eyes twinkled, “What do I need to know about that? How far from a wedding are we? Should I send for mother now or…?”

“I don’t know if it’s gonna happen anytime soon,” Buck tugged on his jacket, glancing towards his best friend, “they’re going slow, despite it not looking like it. I do think it’s safe to say John Egan’s found the one, though.”

“But has Stella Frank found the one…?”

“Now Frannie, you’ve spent more time with her than I have…” Buck quirked an eyebrow and Frances smiled, “If I were a betting man, I’d say she has.”

“I think I agree with that observation,” Frances said. “They do look good together, don’t they?”

“A handsome couple.”

Frances thanked the bartender when he placed her drink down beside her, reaching for it to take a healthy sip, “Mother’s over the moon about it—the amount of time that woman has spent praying that he’d find someone…”

Buck chuckled, “I think she’ll be surprised to see how quickly he turned around when the right girl flew by.”

“She wants to know everything,” Frances said, eyes raking over the couple once more before looking back at Buck, “this is probably the best news mom’s had all year.”

Buck only shook his head, “Your mother is an interesting woman, Frances.”

“Don’t I know it,” Frances took another sip, her eyes drifting out around the hut, taking in the groups of people, the couples dancing, and the band playing along the side. “This seems like a very nice party.”

“Mhmm,” Buck glanced towards the doors. “Red said we’re bussin’ in some girls from nearby—so I imagine things might get a little rowdier once that happens.”

“Oh, I can absolutely see that happening…”

True to Buck’s word, about an hour later the Officers’ Club went from a normal evening affair to an all out party. Women poured through the doors in groups, giggling and waving to the boys in uniform, surprising everyone who didn’t have a lot of brass on their uniform. Dorothy was in the middle of a conversation with a nurse from Norwich when Bucky wandered over, waving to the bartender for a drink. 

“Mind if I cut in for a minute?”

Dorothy eyed Bucky after the woman nodded and returned to her friends, the Commander sipping from her own martini slowly as Bucky leaned his elbows on the bar beside her, head ducked down, “What can I do for you?” Dorothy glanced around the room, looking for his better half before turning her attention back to him, “What have you done with my Captain?”

“Rose drug her off to the powder room to talk about Curt.” Bucky thanked the bartender when he placed a short glass down in front of him, two ice cubes clinking together when he lifted it, “Thought I’d use this time to chat with her best friend.”

“Mmm,” Dorothy gave a sideways look towards the woman she was just talking to. “Not very observant, are you, Major?” Bucky’s eyebrows lifted and she only winked back in response, “What would you like to chat about?”

“Whatever interests you.”

“Frank interests me.”

“Yeah?” Bucky grinned, “What a coincidence, me too.”

“What are your intentions with my friend, John?” Dorothy asked, placing her drink down onto the bar, “Forgive me for being bold—but Rose will either be two minutes or two hours and we may not have much time.”

“I appreciate the forwardness,” Bucky said, maintaining eye contact with Dorothy. “I uh…don’t really know how to do this, what with her family being a piece of shit and all—”

“Such a mystery how she came out of that lot…”

“—But it seems like you might just be the closest thing to family for her.”

“We all consider ourselves to be family,” Dorothy said. “We have to in order to do what we do every day.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Are you asking for her hand?” Dorothy asked, “While I’m flattered and all, I must warn you that I find this entire tradition archaic and the only permission you need in this situation is hers—”

“No,” Bucky laughed softly, “no. That’s not at all what I’m doing. I know how she feels about that right now and that’s definitely not something I’d ask anyone else about but her.”

“Good.” Dorothy took several long seconds to study the pilot next to her, “That’s very good to hear.”

“My intentions are to make her happy,” Bucky said slowly, as if he were tasting the words before they left his mouth. “In whatever way she wants. Marriage, no marriage—kids, no kids. Whatever she wants. I just want it with her.”

Dorothy shifted from one foot to the other, her eyes softening slightly, “I think you make her very happy, John. Happier than I’ve seen her—well, except for the afternoon she passed her class five evaluation.”

Bucky laughed at that, shaking his head, “I would expect nothing less. She’s a good pilot.”

“A great pilot,” Dorothy said. “I love to fly and I consider myself to be skilled, but Frank’s exceeded all of our expectations. I’ve tried to discuss a promotion with her a few times this year, but she refuses to move forward with it, and I don’t blame her. Frank’s heart is in the clouds, and I couldn’t take her from that. Not after everything that’s already been taken from her.”

“I’m hoping to find it up there,” Bucky glanced upwards as Dorothy smiled softly. “I feel like I’m getting closer every time we talk.”

“You are,” Dorothy said, “I can see it. I can see the change, and how she’s softened. You’re heading in the right direction—just keep an eye on your compass.”

“I will,” Bucky nodded, his eyes shifting as he caught sight of the topic of their conversation wandering towards them, Rose’s arm looped through her own, both girls smiling as they talked. “Looks like it was two minutes after all.”

Dorothy snorted, sipping her glass as the girls reached them, Rose releasing Frank as she moved into Bucky’s extended arm, his hand gliding along her elbow as they smiled at one another, “Having a good night with your pilot?” Dorothy glanced over Rose’s shoulders, “Where is he? I do want to talk with him before we leave…”

“He’s over with Amelia and the guy with the dog,” Rose nodded towards a table on the opposite side, where Amelia was currently busying herself with stroking the soft coat of the 100th’s beloved Meatball, his head cocked and tongue happily hanging out. “What’s his name again?”

“Benny,” Bucky said, “and he’s still hung up on her.”

“It’s a shame, too,” Rose sighed, “he’s much more attractive than Cadet Hurricane.”

“Play nicely,” Dorothy said, “you know how she feels about that nickname.”

“Frank came up with it!”

Frank blanched, grunting as Bucky’s smile widened out, “Why do you have to pull me into this? I didn’t even say anything.”

“We all know you were thinking it,” Rose said. “Well, if she’s not interested maybe he’ll take Frances on a little twirl around the dance floor.”

“Uh, no,” Bucky shook his head and the girls laughed, “no—let’s not set my sister up with someone I actively work with. Please.”

“They could be soulmates,” Rose reached for his arm and Bucky grunted as she tugged on his sleeve theatrically, “and you’re denying them true love…”

“No more drinks for her,” Bucky tossed over his shoulder to the bartender, Frank and Dorothy laughing, “she’s clearly been overserved.”

“Frances is with Helen and Tatty,” Frank said, nodding towards the corner where the three girls were sharing a conversation over glasses of wine. “Besides, I think she’s more interested in doctors than pilots…”

Bucky exhaled and the girls continued smiling, the Major shaking his head as he glanced down at Frank, “We’ll add that to our list of things to talk about later.”

“Sounds like a fun time.” Rose reached out and tapped Dorothy’s nose, “I’m off—stop by later.”

“I don’t think anyone else here could handle Rose,” Bucky said, the three watching Rose wander off to the table Curt sat at, her hand gliding along his shoulder before she took his hand, pulling him up and towards the dance floor. 

“It takes a very specific type of man to both catch and keep her attention,” Dorothy said. “You can congratulate your Lieutenant later.”

“I’ll pass that along,” Bucky finished his drink, his hand moving from Frank’s arm to her back. “Do you mind if I steal your Captain, Dorothy? I think she’s in need of a good spin on the dance floor.”

Dorothy only waved them off and Frank waved back to her friend before letting Bucky lead her out to the designated dance floor. The Commander was about to turn and scope out the rest of the space, curious as to where the woman she spoke with earlier wandered off to when she met the warm eyes of another man in uniform. “I take it you’re Commander Skylar.”

“I am,” Dorothy scooted her glass down the bar until she stood closer to the man, eyeing the many pins across his uniform. 

“Colonel Chick Harding.” He held his hand out and Dorothy happily shook it, “Nice to meet you—I appreciate your help in getting us planes.”

“Of course,” Dorothy nodded slightly, “we’re happy to help. It may be hard to believe, but some stations are less welcoming than others, and I appreciate not having to spend time on the phone with your Air Exec every ferry.”

“We don’t discriminate here,” Harding shook his head. “War is war, I don’t care who flies the planes.”

“I wish more men held your opinion, Colonel.”

“Chick,” he shook his head, “please. Or Harding. Enough people have called me Colonel today.”

Dorothy chuckled softly, “I understand the feeling. Can I buy you a drink, then? Harding?”

Across the room, Bucky’s eyes were glued to the two at the bar, Frank’s open palms running across his shoulders as they swayed, “Something interesting over there?”

“Yeah, Harding and Dorothy are flirting.”

Frank’s head spun, eyes zeroing in on the scene before she laughed softly, shaking her head as she slipped one of her hands to his neck, successfully stealing his attention back to her, “They aren’t flirting. I can promise you that.”

“How can you be so sure?” Bucky’s eyebrows frowned. 

“Mmm…” Frank took a step closer, “How do I explain this delicately…you like baseball, right?”

Bucky’s hands slipped further around her waist, pulling her closer as he pressed his lips to her forehead, “Love it.”

“Well, they aren’t on the same team,” Frank emphasized. “If you catch what I’m saying.”

“I know she’s with the ATA and he’s with the USAAF, but—”

“No,” Frank shook her head, eyes softening as she looked up at his confused expression, “no—think further than that. We’re on the same team, Rose and Curt are on our team. Amelia is on our team, so is Buck…”

Bucky’s eyebrows only furrowed deeper and Frank pushed herself up to the tips of her toes, pressing her lips to his softly before she whispered as quietly as she could, “Dorothy prefers the company of women.”

His lips parted, eyes darting back to look at the Commander and his Colonel, realization flashing across his eyes before he glanced down at her sheepishly, “No wonder she seemed annoyed when I walked up earlier.”

“Why?” Frank asked, “What happened earlier?”

“She was talking with one of the girls who came on the bus and I interrupted while you and Rose went to freshen up.”

“Oh, John…” Frank lifted a hand to pat his face playfully and his cheeks tinted slightly, “If you’re trying to earn points with Dot, rule number one. Never interrupt.”

“Noted.” Frank smiled as he dropped his head to steal another kiss, his voice deeper when he asked, “How many points do I need to score with you, angel?”

“Mmm,” Frank slipped her arms fully around his neck, pressing even closer, “For what?”

“To convince you to blow this party and sneak back to the pub with me?”

Frank laughed loudly, the song shifting from the slow ballad to a much faster tune, her fingers gliding down his arm until they laced with his own, “I’m afraid there are not enough points for that. Rule number two. Don’t leave the girls.”

“I’ve already broken one rule tonight,” Bucky swung her out before pulling her back in, his arm lifting to twirl her under, “I don’t think I can afford to break another.”

“You most certainly cannot.” Frank giggled when he pulled her back with a little more speed, her hand grasping onto his bicep as they moved well together, “But after the party dies out, we can absolutely sneak back to the room.”

“Just tell me when, baby.”

---

“You have to drink!”

The shouts and cheers echoed all around the pub—their party having moved after the one in the Officers’ Club died down. About forty minutes ago, Red announced it was time for the women to go, which seemed to promptly end the fun, two buses full of beautifully dressed women driving off into the darkness. 

“I picked the right card!” Rose shook her head as she waved the one she had in the air, “No—Frank is the one who has to drink!”

“I’ve had too many!” Frank lost track of both how many shots she took and what game they were even playing anymore, her head rolling to rest against Bucky’s shoulder as he cuddled her close, smoke from the cigarette they shared wafting up to the ceiling. “I’m out. I forfeit!”

“There is no out,” Curt laughed, taking all the cards back before he expertly shuffled them, head turning to glance at Rose beside him, the two sharing a charged look, “the round just ends.”

“How does the game end?” Frank slipped her hand over Bucky’s thigh and he shifted, grinning as he settled her further into his side, “Because it’s after two and I’ve lost track of how many I’ve had now.”

“I think Frank’s right,” Dorothy said, “and I’m winning. Perhaps we should call it an evening—or should I say morning?”

“I can’t even remember the last time I was out this late.” Frances reached for her own glass, seated across from her brother and beside Dorothy, “I feel like I’m in college again!”

Amelia laughed, but nodded the same, her chin resting in her hand as she watched the game. Having been declared out at least two rounds ago after an argument between Rose and Curt of who grabbed the card first. “One more round,” Curt said, “I think I can catch up to Dorothy here and claim victory.”

“I’d love to see you try, Biddick.”

Everyone at their shared table laughed and Frank shook her head, taking a long drag from the cigarette before she stood. “I’m going to say hi to Helen and Tatty and then call it a night.”

“I’ll finish this round and meet you,” Bucky took the cigarette back and Frank nodded, the two sharing a very soft kiss, which was met with giggles and a loud whistle from Curt. “Alright,” Bucky drew out the word, leaning back heavily in his seat, “tone it down and deal the fuckin’ hand.”

Frank laughed as she crossed the pub. The crowd had mostly thinned out since their group arrived. Consisting of those who were staying at the pub, they hadn’t managed to convince Buck or Benny to join them, the latter claiming he needed to tend to Meatball and the former not the least bit interested in playing a drinking game. 

“I didn’t see you two when we came in,” Frank greeted the girls, Helen reaching out to squeeze her elbow. 

“We stopped in for a debrief,” Tatty said and Frank laughed, moving to take a seat with the girls, “and a cup of coffee.”

“It does smell good,” Frank yawned into her palm, “excuse me—I’m more tired than I thought.”

“You’ve been playing an interesting game over there,” Helen teased and Frank smiled, “are there even rules?”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Frank said, shaking her head, “I think Curt’s making them up as we go.”

“Sounds about right,” Tatty ashed her cigarette. “Did you enjoy the party?”

“I did,” Frank nodded, “it was nice to get out with everyone. Did you get to meet everyone?”

“Yes, earlier,” Tatty said. “Rose introduced us to Dorothy and Amelia. They all seem wonderful.”

“And Bucky’s sister,” Helen said, nodding back towards the table where the siblings were currently bickering over one of the card draws, “what a surprise that must’ve been when you ran across her.”

“It was in the infirmary too,” Frank said, “she was my nurse and we figured it out not long after the doctor saw me. I remember Bucky said something about her being a nurse, but never would I have guessed she ended up where I was.”

“The world feels so small sometimes,” Tatty said. 

“Any terrible pick up lines tonight?” Frank shifted in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, her body starting to relax into her chair, ready to call it an evening and crawl into bed with her handsome Major. 

“Oh always,” Helen scoffed. “They must all read the same book—or attend the same lecture. Something. And they only get worse each time.”

“She’s so picky,” Tatty said and Helen rolled her eyes. 

“I’m looking for someone to make me laugh,” Helen picked up her cup of coffee, sipping from it slowly, “is that so much to ask? How about a simple conversation instead of some half-assed overused pick up line?”

“Did Bucky use a line?” Tatty asked. 

“No. God no,” Frank shook her head, “I don’t think I would’ve given him a second glance if he had.”

“So how’d he get your attention?”

Frank bit her lip, the corner of her mouth lifting as she looked back at the girls, “He made me laugh…”

“See!” Helen said, “Laughter, Tatty. I’m telling you, it's so attractive—”

Before Frank could say anything further or quell the playfully heated conversation between the two, she felt a set of strong hands land on her shoulders. She tilted her head back, looking up at none other than John Egan himself as he grinned back down at her. “Mind if I steal my girl, ladies?”

Tatty inhaled from her cigarette, wiggling her eyebrows and Helen smiled, “Enjoy your night, you two…”

Frank let Bucky pull her from the chair, pressing several kisses to the back of her hand as he led her away from the table, his head ducking down to steal a kiss, “Upstairs?”

She bit down on her lip, debating on if they needed to say proper good nights to their group or not, but she was very much ready to relax upstairs with the man in front of her. Frank took a step closer to him, Bucky catching her around the waist when she brushed her lips against his, “Upstairs.”

Bucky nodded eagerly and Frank giggled as he walked her back towards the stairs, not even bothering to wonder if anyone was watching. Frank saw the stairs come into view and she paused in order to keep one or both of them from stumbling when she spotted another familiar face.

She took a second glance, hand moving to rest on Bucky’s forearm to better see into the far back corner, past the darts in the direction of the piano. However, all she saw were unfamiliar faces that belonged to unfamiliar people. “What’s wrong?” Bucky turned to look in the direction she stared, but he also came up empty. 

“I…” Frank shook her head, allowing her eyes to sweep across the people one more time, but she saw nothing, slowly deciding it must be the buzz she had from the drinking game combined with her exhaustion playing tricks on her, “I thought I saw someone, but I don’t see them now...”

“Who?”

“No one important.” Frank turned her full attention back to Bucky, soft smile across her face, “Where were we?”

Bucky only leaned down to kiss her, her cheeks warming as soon as Curt catcalled from their table and everyone else joined in with a round of applause as Bucky led her up the staircase.

Notes:

Ahhh!! Over a month! I’m so sorry! Life got hectic, and I’ve been dealing with weird medication side effects that make it difficult to write, but we made it to chapter 35!

Tell me all your thoughts! I look forward to reading them!!

And as always, if you'd like to chat about our characters or story, you can always find me on Tumblr here where I also post updates and answer questions!

Chapter 36: XXXVI

XXXVI.

Frank ran her hand up and down Bucky’s arm, her nails lightly scratched the soft hair there as the two relaxed into the not so early morning hours. The sheets were rumpled, and that combined with the fading scratches down Bucky’s back and the growing red mark below Frank’s left collarbone was more than enough evidence of their earlier activities.

It was darker than it usually was when they woke together, Frank wincing at the intrusion of light as her headache quickly reminded her of the drinking she did yesterday. Bucky groaned in agreement as he rolled over to press his forehead into her back before begrudgingly crossing the room to close the curtains fully, his mood shifting when Frank thanked him with a series of kisses that absolutely led to something more. But for now, a few hours later in their blissful haze, they shared a pillow and soft touches, pretending like their lives weren’t about to restart the moment they got out of bed and readied themselves for the day. Pretended like this was something that they could enjoy every morning, every evening.

“What does your day hold?” Frank asked quietly, feeling Bucky exhale against her shoulder before his lips pressed a soft kiss to the bare skin.

“I don’t know.” Bucky stretched his legs behind her and Frank felt his hand flatten out along her waist, dragging over her ribcage and along her hip as he shifted, “Nothing, if I’m lucky.”

“No flights today?”

“No,” Bucky ran his nose along the hard line of her shoulder, “I think we’ve got a few weeks off. New crew comin’ in soon and we’ve got to get them up to speed as best we can.”

“But you get boys all the time?”

“Not like this,” Bucky said, “we’ve got a whole bunch of guys joining the 418^th, so there’ll be a lot of meetings. Lots of maneuvers, that sort of thing.”

Frank hummed, tilting her head to give Bucky more room to explore her neck, his thumb swiping along her hip bone, “A few weeks off sounds like a nice way to reset and prepare.”

“Yeah, something tells me we’ll be going back up with a bang,” Bucky drug his hand up from her hip and across her stomach until it slipped between her breasts, fingers turning her head so he could press a slow kiss to her mouth.

“That worries me,” Frank whispered back, “or are we getting closer to this all being over?”

“I don’t know about closer,” Bucky said, “but it feels like we’re gaining some ground. Harding’s been in more meetings lately and Kidd’s been so wrapped up in paperwork and phone calls—hard not to take that as a sign of hope.”

“The headlines can seem so bleak,” Frank rolled to her back, hand lifting to graze the side of his jaw as he hovered over her, propped up on his elbow, “it’s hard to know where we really stand. It feels like they’re churning out more and more fighters, and the rumors of the Super Fortress are starting to grow…”

“We’ll get ‘em,” Bucky promised, thumb brushing along her lower lip, “we didn’t come over here just to lose.”

Frank closed her eyes when Bucky leaned down to brush his lips across hers, their legs tangling slightly under the sheets. It wasn’t until they parted that Frank breathed her next question, her fingers playing with the curls behind his ear, “What do you think the people are thinking?” Her question was quiet, and Bucky only frowned slightly back at her, “Do you think they’re trying to survive as best they can until it’s over…? Are they miserable? Or…”

“The Germans? I don’t know,” Bucky shook his head, lowering himself to slip his arms around her fully, fingers sliding down her spine as she rolled to rest partially over him. “I ask myself that all the time in the air—wondering how we managed to get here. What went so wrong that this seemed like the best option. I’ve seen some reports cross hands since I’ve been here and what’s happening over there isn’t pretty. Most of it’s hearsay, but even the milder of the details aren’t great.”

“Like what?” Frank rested her chin on the back of her hand, eyes fluttering closed as Bucky scratched along the side of her head, and if she were a cat Frank probably would’ve started purring right there, tail swishing happily.

“Just…” Bucky tilted his head back fully against the pillow and Frank watched him swallow thickly, eyes trained upwards on the ceiling, “terrible things I don’t ever want to think about.”

Frank moved, hovering above him and his eyes shifted from the ceiling to her, watching as she rested her elbows on either side of his head before she kissed him slowly, his hands running along her sides and over her back, both of them sighing happily when she rested fully on top of him. “We don’t have to talk about it,” Frank whispered into their next kiss and Bucky hummed back in response, “we can just enjoy our bubble for the next few moments.”

“Love our bubble,” his voice was low and sent shivers down her spine, a surprised gasp falling from her lips when he flipped them again, dog tags startling her warm skin when they landed flat on her chest. He lowered himself down seconds later, the chain of his necklace dragging across her skin and Frank parted her legs as he mouthed a line of kisses along her shoulders and neck, fingers disappearing into his thick hair as his teeth found her ear. Her eyes fluttered closed when he nipped and grazed the shell of her ear, and she just let out a quiet moan when his warm breath fanned across her cheek. Bucky pulled away to look down at her before he spoke, voice thick and slow to match their morning, her eyes opening at the sound of his voice. “Not gonna let anything happen to you,” he promised her, searching her eyes as she looked back at him. “I don’t know how this whole thing’s gonna shake out, but as long as I’m alive and able and in the sky, I’ll keep you safe.”

Frank lifted her hand, a hundred thousand different thoughts running through her head as she rested her hand along the space his neck and shoulder met, thumb pressing against the bone that protruded there. “Don’t count me out just yet,” Frank whispered back, and the corner of Bucky’s lip pulled as she met his eyes again. “I’ll keep you safe too.” His smile blossomed into the toothy grin she loved to see, giggles falling from her lips as he lowered himself down to kiss her neck and shoulders, fingers digging into the ticklish spots of her ribcage, “Oh my God—John!”

She tried to wiggle away, but their laughter only increased when he found an even more ticklish spot above her hip, Frank squealing as she laughed and rolled, eventually finding herself on top of him again, their chests heaving as their laughter died down. His fingers smoothed the areas he just accosted, Frank’s palms flat on his chest as she gathered herself, and he couldn’t help but lift a hand to her face, thumb brushing her chin and jawline as he took her in.

Studying her.

Memorizing her.

Frank returned his gaze, taking in all his features, the way his hair curled along his temples and forehead, the way the laugh lines along his mouth were more prominent when he smiled, his eyebrows a lighter shade than his hair, matching the thin hair of his mustache and chest. He didn’t have freckles, not like she did at least, and there was a tiny mole that sat just below his lower lip, left of center that she loved to kiss in the late evenings they got to spend together.

The atmosphere in the room shifted again and Frank breathed audibly as he sat up with her in his lap, his other hand lifting to cup the side of her face he wasn’t already holding, bringing her down for a very slow, passion filled kiss. She felt the kiss all the way through her body, her toes curled in response before she returned his kiss, hands fumbling for his shoulders as he deepened it further.

It was slow—one of the slowest kisses they had shared thus far, and Frank pulled away when she felt her lungs burn, her forehead pressed to his as they breathed one another in.

“I love these mornings…” His words were barely audible, barely above a whisper and Frank nodded in agreement, their noses brushing against one another, just as their lips did when the other spoke. The rest of his sentence hovered above them, Bucky’s eyes fluttering closed when she pressed a sweet peck to his mouth, one of his hands leaving her face to drift down her back until it rested along the curve of her lower spine, “…love our bubble.”

“I love it too,” Frank whispered back and he allowed his hand to drift just a little further down, feeling her spine transition into softer skin. “I—”

Three loud knocks interrupted the couple and both of their heads turned towards the door, Bucky groaning in frustration as Frank lifted a hand from his shoulder, his frustration seeping into his tone as he exhaled roughly, “What?”

“Rise and shine, sleepy heads!” Rose’s voice was muffled, but still distinguishable and Frank let a smile escape as Bucky fell backwards dramatically onto the bed, “The sun is out, the coffee’s hot, and we’re going to pet a dog!”

“Pet a dog—I knew that dog would be trouble one day.” Bucky grumbled as Frank’s smile turned into a soft laugh, “Remind me to give Benny a piece of my mind later.”

---

The hangover felt a little worse in the daylight, but the warm sunshine more than made up for it, Frank tilting her head up as they walked along the make-shift footpath, happy to feel the sun on her face and neck after several long days of rain and clouds. “You missed breakfast,” Rose chattered on beside her, “but I’m sure Dorothy can talk her way into getting you something. She really charmed the staff today—makes you wonder why the ones at Ratcliffe hate us so much.”

Bucky snorted from his spot on the other side of Frank, “The staff hates you?”

“No.”

“Hate’s a strong word,” Rose corrected. “They’re—how do I put this…scared of us?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up as he looked over Frank at Rose, “They’re scared of you?”

“Scared of Rose,” Frank said, and Rose rolled her eyes. “You think she’s unfiltered here…just imagine how she is at the dinner table.”

“I’m picturing it now.”

“Well, I’m not the only one,” Rose said, the trio wandering down the road in the direction of Thorpe Abbotts, “Frank joins in too, and Amelia can sometimes be coerced into giving some salacious details.”

“Salacious details, huh?” Bucky gave Frank a playful look and it was her turn to scoff, “I feel like I should be privy to some of your details.”

“You were there,” Frank teased, and Bucky let out a loud laugh, “so you already know.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Don’t worry too much,” Rose said. “Frank keeps most things close to the vest.”

Bucky laughed louder and Frank smiled in embarrassment when his arm came around her, dangling from her shoulders, “Lucky for you, I don’t get embarrassed easily.”

“And we’re not at all surprised by that,” Rose said, Frank snorting as she felt Bucky pull her just a little closer as they walked. “Although, there is something I have been wondering—”

“No,” Frank interrupted and Bucky grinned, “I know where you’re going with this, and the answer is no.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re no fun, Frank?”

“A few times, actually,” Frank breathed a happy sigh as the sign for Thorpe Abbotts came into view, her stomach rumbling slightly. “Oh—we’re finally here.”

“Just a little further, doll,” Bucky leaned down to kiss the top of her head before he came to a stop, Rose wandering a few steps ahead before she glanced behind her at the now stationary couple. “But before we get too much further in…” He leaned down and kissed her fully on the mouth, Frank’s hand lifting to rest against his chest, “can’t let you go today without a proper kiss.” Frank’s cheeks were warm the rest of the walk, the warmth only growing when the girls caught sight of it, Bucky’s proud grin not at all helping the situation.

It wasn’t until they were finishing the breakfast Dorothy saved for them, Bucky pointing out the various tents and huts to his sister as the Egan siblings stood side by side, that Frank finally found relief from the on-going teasing, standing beside Dorothy as her friend prepared a cigarette, taking care to light it in the brief wind before she passed it to Frank. She just ashed it, resting it between her index and middle fingers when an unfamiliar voice broke through their small group.

“Major Egan! Bucky!”

Bucky glanced over his shoulder mid conversation, hand pointed towards the hardstands, no doubt in the middle of a story with his sister, as two men Frank didn’t recognize walked up, one of the men’s voices loud enough that they could hear the conversation, even Rose and Amelia turned from where they stood with Buck discussing the cowboy state.

“What can I do for you, gentlemen?” Bucky rested one of his hands in his pockets, the mirrored sunglasses that sat along the bridge of his nose drifted down when his head tilted. One of the men was dressed in uniform, the chevron giving away his rank, whereas the other man wore regular work clothes.

“There’s another problem with Meatball,” the sergeant said, glancing nervously towards the man beside him, “he uh—seems to have gotten into another field…”

“I just saw that dog not an hour ago,” Bucky glanced towards the medical hut where the girls had thoroughly loved on Meatball before breakfast.

“Look—he’s been sniffing around my flock for a few days now,” the man spoke, shaking his head back and forth as he motioned vaguely towards one of the farms in the area, “I don’t know when it happened, but he’s gone after one of my Leghorns and that’s going to set me back in my egg count for the week…”

Bucky slipped his hat off his head, fingers threaded through his short locks as he exhaled in frustration, “She laid every day, I take it?”

“Every day, same spot—easiest girl I had.”

Bucky tugged out what appeared to be a handful of English banknotes from his pocket, “What are chickens going for now…?”

“Well, she wasn’t just any chicken, Major…”

“I think your boyfriend’s about to be swindled.” Rose appeared beside Frank suddenly and Dorothy snorted so hard she coughed.

“Appears that way,” Frank blew out a bit of smoke, happily handing over the cigarette when Rose motioned for it, “something tells me he’ll get the money back one way or another.”

“You can count on that,” Buck’s deep voice met her ears as he and Amelia joined the girls, watching as Bucky handed over several notes. “Meatball only eats prized chickens, you know. A sophisticated palate that dog has.”

Dorothy laughed, hand covering her mouth when Bucky glanced their way as he placed the last of the money into the farmer’s hand. The man thanked Bucky before he set off, presumably to his farm. Beside Bucky, Frances kept her smile tight in order to not burst out laughing. “Get me Benny,” Bucky grunted to the sergeant who stood there awkwardly. “Tell him to bring his wallet before I ship that dog off myself.”

Rose gasped and Frances didn’t even try to hide her laugh as Bucky glanced towards the redhead with alarm, “You can’t get rid of him! He’s your mascot!”

“My mascot?”

Rose motioned all around her and Amelia moved towards the Egan sister, looping her arm through Frances’ as both girls giggled, “Everyone’s mascot! He’s the face of Thorpe Abbotts, he’s the heart and soul, the mayor of the 100^th Bomb Group. He’s—”

“Costed me about seven pounds and we’ve been here three months!” Bucky attempted to defend himself but Rose’s unimpressed look told them all he wouldn’t be winning this argument, “Do you know what all I could’ve spent seven pounds on? Benny ‘wins’ him during a game of craps, but I’m the one taking care of the mutt.”

“Put down the shovel, John.” Buck mumbled around his fresh toothpick, “Something tells me you aren’t gonna win this one.”

Frank couldn’t help but chuckle as Bucky hunched in defeat, shoulders slumped as he rubbed at his forehead, looking towards her for comfort as she held her hand out. “If it makes you feel better…” She slipped her hand along his lower back, “we don’t have a dog at Ratcliffe and everyone’s miserable. At least you don’t have to deal with that…?”

Bucky gave her a look that caused everyone else to laugh and Rose leaned a shoulder against Dorothy's, “Maybe he’ll get one of the farm dogs pregnant and—”

Bucky’s eyes widened out and everyone laughed harder, even Buck as he grinned down at his boots, “Easy now, Rose,” he shook his head, “you might just give John a heart attack there. Bunch of Meatballs running around…”

“Benny!” Bucky called as soon as the pilot could be seen in the distance, wandering towards them with his sheepskin jacket wrapped around his body tightly, “We gotta talk about your dog!"

“Why?” Benny’s voice caught in the wind, but was still audible, “What’s wrong with ‘im?”

“He’s causing a whole world of problems,” Bucky moved away from the group and towards DeMarco. “He’s eatin’ chicken for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and if we’re not careful, we’re gonna have a whole litter runnin’ around here!”

“Has the dog already knocked one up…?”

“No!” Bucky threw his hands up, “No—and he’s not gonna, do you hear me? You’re gonna get that taken care of or find him a lead or something to stay on…”

“When I decided to come over here and join the war effort, never did I expect to have conversations about dogs and chickens,” Amelia said as she and Frances moved to stand with the girls and Buck, all of them watching Bucky and DeMarco gesture wildly at each other as they argued about neutering Meatball.

“A pleasant surprise, I think.” Dorothy said, smiling as she looked towards her friend, “Helps take the edge off the busier days.”

“You can say that again,” Rose folded her arms across her chest. “Buck, you must write to me when the puppies arrive, alright? I want first pick.”

“You cannot have a puppy,” Dorothy said before anyone else could respond. “Who would take care of it? You’re in the air seventy percent of the day.”

“It could fly with me,” Rose didn’t even hesitate to respond, “most of the planes have a second seat for training purposes.”

“Oh the brass’ll love that,” Dorothy shook her head. “I think not—let’s hope Major Egan wins this argument.”

“Something tells me he’s not,” Frances said, “that vein along his neck is starting to bulge and that only happens when he’s getting frustrated. And he only gets frustrated when it’s not going his way.”

Buck only laughed, eyes twinkling as he glanced around, as if looking for the dog, “Ol’ Meatball has no idea what ruckus he’s caused.”

“Hey—oh!” Everyone turned to watch Curt Biddick saunter over, hat titled on his head as he took in the scene, eyeing the group of girls, or more specifically, Rose, and then the two arguing several feet away. “What’s goin’ on here, huh? I step away for a few minutes and now we got arguin’?”

“Bucky wants to fix Meatball,” Rose said.

“Bite your tongue.” Curt adjusted his hat, eyes trained on the major before he called out, “You can take the dog’s balls, Bucky! That’s his manhood…” The words seemed to not sound too great to his own ears and so quickly he corrected himself, “Doghood, I mean…”

Bucky sent Curt a look of absolute annoyance when DeMarco motioned to Curt in agreement, which only caused Buck and Frances to snicker further as Bucky attempted to wrap up the argument he was having. Around them the base seemed to liven up, men in uniform moving between huts, some of them with folders and notebooks under their arms. In the distance a few trucks roared to life.

“What time does the train leave?” Amelia asked as she adjusted the gold watch around her wrist.

Dorothy lifted her arm to look at her own timepiece, “Quarter to one, I believe.”

“The pub’s holding our bags,” Rose said, glancing to her left as Curt bumped his shoulder into hers, “we should have enough time to get them and then over to Diss…?”

“Plenty of time,” Curt slipped his hands into his pockets. “Probably even have time for a tour around the base…”

“Something tells me we don’t have time for that kind of tour,” Dorothy eyed both Curt and Rose, which resulted in a roll of Rose’s eyes as Frank snorted beside her friend.

“That looked like it went well,” Buck’s voice interrupted Curt’s attempt at a plan to sneak off with Rose as Bucky returned to the group, dragging a hand through his ruffled hair. Behind him, DeMarco walked away, patting his leg to try to call out for the dog.

“Yeah, I heard you two clucking like a bunch of hens,” Bucky shot his sister and best friend a look, at which Frances only widened her eyes to look more innocent. “Benny better put that mutt on a leash. I can’t afford Meatball’s chicken habit—damn dog only goes after top quality, prized winning layers, apparently.”

“He’s got good taste,” Curt shrugged, which only resulted in giggles from their group.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky shook his head before glancing down at his own watch. “This morning’s gone by quickly. You all need to get over to the station…”

“Don’t forget about the briefing,” Buck said as he adjusted the hem of his jacket. “Harding, Red, Kidd…”

Bucky tilted his head back and Frank heard him swear under his breath. For the first time since they’d been together, since she’d known him, Bucky looked very stressed. His hair stuck up from where he ran his fingers through it, there was a little sweat along his collar, and the lines between his eyebrows gave away the frustration he was currently feeling.

“C’mon,” Curt and Buck exchanged a look when Bucky didn’t immediately say anything further. “I’m not important enough for the briefing, I’ll get you girls to the station.”

Dorothy and Frank exchanged a look before Dorothy subtly tapped the face of her watch, moving to follow Curt and Rose back towards the Officers’ Mess. “I’m sorry,” Bucky’s words hit Frank’s ears as soon as everyone was out of earshot, her eyes lifting to look at him as he ran a hand across his jaw, “I lost track of time and—”

“Easy,” Frank reached out to run her hand along his shoulder, adjusting the lapel of his jacket, “it’s alright. I got to spend the morning with you.”

Bucky still looked fairly disgruntled, and Frank moved closer, lifting herself up to her toes before she pressed a soft, albeit quick kiss to Bucky's cheek, her heels touching back down on the ground as quick as they lifted, “Still, I like to drive you to the station…”

“Next time,” Frank promised, squeezing his shoulder before she released it, “we are at war, Major. In case you didn’t realize, you’re important here…”

Bucky rolled his eyes theatrically and Frank grinned playfully, her smile widening out when he slipped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. “But you’re important to me.” Frank blushed, shaking her head as he smiled down at her, ducking his head to meet her eyes when she looked away, “I’m serious, Stell. You’re important.”

Frank lifted her eyes to look up at him, “You’re important to me too. But this all comes first. You know that, I know that.”

“I know,” Bucky tilted his head, and Frank felt his forehead brush against hers, “and I’m counting down the days until this whole damn thing is finally over. Whenever that may be.”

Frank smiled at Bucky’s attempt to lighten the mood, and she closed her eyes when he kissed her fully on the mouth this time, grunting at her when she tried to pull away. “We’re out in the open,” Frank giggled when Bucky pulled her back into him, “you know what the ground crew said…”

“They’re not around,” Bucky mumbled, and Frank laughed a little louder, shaking her head as she returned his kiss, although not nearly for as long as Bucky wanted, the man in front of her groaning playfully when she pulled away for good this time.

“Still,” Frank squeezed his shoulders before she let her hands drop from him, “we need to behave. Especially when you’re in uniform.”

Bucky slid an arm around her as they walked after their friends, who were now much further away. “When am I gonna see you again, Captain?”

“Mmm, I don’t know.” Frank rested her temple against his shoulder, allowing herself a few moments of comfort before they would have to part, “I don’t think I saw you on the schedule before we left.”

“Probably not,” Bucky squinted upwards at the sky, “we’re off for two weeks, I think. Something like that. I doubt we'll get anything new in, but a guy can dream, right?"

"Oh certainly," Frank said, "dreaming's always free."

"Thank God for that," Bucky said. "You gonna dream about me, Captain?'

Frank responded with a playful grin, pulling away to walk backwards in front of him. It reminded him of when he was a kid, old enough to know better, but young enough to do it anyway. When he'd spend hours in the fields behind his grandmother's house, flirting with the neighborhood girls, laughing and teasing as they walked to the pond not too far away. Except he much preferred the woman he looked at now, although he'd give anything to put them both in that field now. Safe and together, without a care in the world. Without fear of what each day might bring. A smile of his own fell across his face as he watched her, taking in her relaxed posture and amused facial expression. His question hung in the air as they looked at one another, and just before they reached their friends did Frank send him a quick wink before she turned around. Warmth spread around his body at her answer, and for the first time in a long time, did he long for the evening's darkness. Eager to see her in his own dreams.

Notes:

Oh my goodness! It's been a while, hasn't it? Too long, too!

So much has happened, and if you don't follow me on Tumblr, the main reason I haven't written in so long is that my dog died back in January. It was sudden, although he was older, but an acute health issue and there was nothing the vet could do to save him. It was such a quick thing, fine on Tuesday and gone on Thursday, and my heart was very broken. He was my best friend, my writing partner, someone I had shared the last twelve years with. It's been difficult to write since his death, and I'm not sure I've been as heartbroken before as I am now. Time heals all wounds, and just as I started to get back into writing did I finally have surgery!

I think I've mentioned some health issues in previous end notes, but after years and many many months of trying to figure out what was "wrong" with me, we finally got confirmation that it is pretty severe Endometriosis. If you're struggling with that, my heart definitely goes out to you!!

ANYWAY, with recovery going well and coming to an end, I wanted to get back to the story. With all the scary things going on in the world right now, especially here in the US, I'm looking for the helpers. Even if they are fictional. Hahaha.

This chapter is a bit shorter and lighter than usual, but I hope you enjoyed it! We'll be back on track and getting closer to episode three of Masters of the Air in just a few more! Which means we'll be starting our downhill climb to October 1943 soon.

If you've read this long, thank you!! You all mean so much to me! I hope you're doing well and that the first few months of 2025 have gone as well as they can!

And as always, if you'd like to chat about our characters or story, you can always find me on Tumblr here where I also post updates and answer questions!