The Spirit of the Corps » Band of Brothers

42: Such A Darling

"Yes, ma'am," Babe answered her with a grin. "Got let outta trainin' early."

"Well, it's your lucky day, 'cause so did we," chirped Mabs. "Room for four more?"

The replacements shuffled around and made space, then dragged over another table to push against theirs when it became clear that eight people wouldn't actually be able to fit around one small circular table. Once everyone was seated, Charlie turned to her left to greet whichever replacement she'd been seated beside and knew immediately that Mabs had orchestrated the seating arrangement. When she looked over, Mabs sent her a wink.

Of course Mabs would sit her next to James Miller, the replacement she'd been insisting for days would be Charlie's perfect match.

When she looked back at James, Charlie found him already looking at her, and though he blushed when their eyes met, he smiled all the same.

"Hi," he said quietly, still with that blush over his freckled cheeks.

It was like looking in a mirror, if mirrors changed your gender identity.

"Hi," Charlie replied, equally as quiet.

"I, uh," he started, then cleared his throat. "I don't think we've met."

"No," Charlie said with a quick shake of her head. "I don't think so."

"I'm James." He offered a hand for her to shake, then blushed a darker shade of red when he realised how formal that would come across.

But Charlie found it endearing, so she put her hand in his and gave it a gentle, tentative shake. "I'm Charlie," she introduced herself, feeling her cheeks flush a bright red to rival his own. Her eyes were stuck on his, ocean blue and bright with something hopeful. Oh, he was sweetness personified. Mabs had been right. How had she ever doubted her?

The conversation taking place between the rest of the table ran away without Charlie and James as they sat there together, blushing and meeting eyes before quickly looking away again. When she next snuck a glance at him she caught him looking at her but, instead of looking quickly away, this time he smiled.

The dimples. Her heart gave a stutter. She was in terrible trouble.

"I, uh, hear you're good friends with some of the veterans," James supplied at length, and finally words returned to Charlie's brain.

"Yes," she said, nodding vigorously with how glad she was that he'd finally spoken. "Somehow I've found myself an honorary member of Second Platoon's mortar squad." He laughed at her joke and she brightened with pride. "Probably all of the men are acting very unapproachable at the moment, but a lot of them are actually harmless."

"A lot, but not all?" James asked with a minute quirk of his brow.

Charlie smiled and his own half-smile widened because of it. It was the first time she'd smiled for him, she realised, and he seemed to like it when she smiled an awful lot.

"I've not properly met all of them," she explained, still wearing that same smile. "But the ones I have met have all been lovely, if a bit... forward."

James laughed. "I'm not sure I can say I'm surprised."

Shaking her head with a laugh of her own, Charlie agreed, "Nor me."

"Where is home for you, Charlie?" James asked, and from there they went on to cover the basics: hometown, age, siblings, favourite colours, pets.

When Charlie asked about his hobbies, that delightful blush spread right back over his cheeks like a blanket and he ducked his head, bashful. His floppy brown hair fell across his forehead and it looked so soft and he looked so sweet that she had to consciously resist the urge to reach over and brush it back out of his face.