All Things Nice » Band of Brothers

50: Bombers

Posey laughed under her breath to mask any traces of uncertainty that may have been lingering on her face. "Call it sharpshooter solidarity," she told him, and shot Shifty a wink. "I can't be hanging around with just anyone anymore, now, can I?"

Tab laughed. "You two are gonna be thick as thieves now, huh?"

"Just be grateful we're in different platoons, Tab," Shifty replied. Posey laughed.

"Yeah, you two are two of the biggest company liabilities," Tab retorted drily. "Can't imagine the kinda chaos you'd cause together."

"And you don't want to, either," Posey added, joking.

A particularly loud burst of cheers from the other side of the pub had all attention turned that way. When Posey looked over, she found what must have been a drinking competition taking place between Bill and Luz.

"They're gonna be so wasted," Skinny commented, joining their table along with Chuck.

"You mean like you and Duckie that one time back at Toccoa?" Tab replied. "When you thought you could outdrink Guarnere with milk? About as wasted as that?"

Posey groaned loudly and dropped her forehead onto the table whilst Skinny scoffed. "You know, I think you're making that story up, Tab."

"Do you?" Tab taunted.

"I don't think that happened at all," Skinny went on. "Duckie?"

Posey raised her head to shake it. "Nope. I don't think it happened either."

"I guess we'll just have to get you drunk enough that you do remember," Chuck put in, almost philosophically, before taking a long draw of his beer.

Posey shared a look with Skinny and shrugged; getting drunk didn't sound half bad, now that she thought about it. Between the emotional rollercoaster that had been the visit to her brother, the almost-jump back into combat, the exhaustion of the following day, and Luz's cold shoulder, she thought that, actually, it might do her the world of good to lift the weight off of her shoulders for a little while.

So that was what she did. 

After drinking competition followed by drinking competition followed by drinking competition, not even half an hour later both Skinny and Posey were completely out of it.

"I knew you were a lightweight, Duckie, but goddamn," Lieb said around a sip of beer, laughing as he watched her bounce in place on her seat. He'd come over to join their table with More at some point or other, likely roped in by the usual cheers that came with a drinking race.

"Skinny's a bigger lightweight than I am!" Posey protested around a pout.

"You're both as bad as each other," Chuck commented, chuckling to himself.

"Chuck, what's your real name?" Posey wondered, drumming a beat onto the table and continuing to bounce up and down where she sat.

"Charles," he replied, hiding his amused smile behind his glass.

"Charles," she repeated, nodding. "You don't look like a Charles. Maybe a Charlie, though."

"You don't look like a Joe," Chuck countered.

"But no one calls me Joe."

"No one calls me Charles."

Posey considered his words before a grin spread slowly across her face. "Fair enough," she replied, then clapped her hands and turned her attention to the table at large. "Lets play a game!"

"What game?" Skinny asked, swaying where he was sitting.

Posey sighed, exasperated. "Do I have to be the mastermind behind everything?"