A World on Fire[Band of Brothers]

Chapter Two

"Lew-"

Before Larkin could yell at him, or better yet, club him over the head with a shoe, the door to her room swung open. Standing in the doorway, mouth agape, was Mrs. Coolige. The elderly English woman, who had lost both her two sons and her husband to the Battle of Britain, was named Marjory. She was, as far as Larkin could tell, very strict and very religious. Therefore, seeing a man and a woman (who had met two days earlier no less) alone in a bedroom, one holding ladies underclothes and the other wearing only a t shirt and army issued boxers, was quite a shock.

With a loud shreik and several prayers to god to salvage the two crazy yanks purity, Marjory ran from the room. Nixon cackled loudly, clearly amused by the compromising situation he had been found it. Larkin gritted her teeth. If the press got word of this, women in the army would be even further portrayed as floozies.

"Mrs. Coolige! It wasn't what you thought!" Larkin cried out halfheartedly, making chase for the woman and then deciding against it. "Oh, fuck me!" She swore in annoyance, yanking the chemise out of Lewis's hands and throwing it into some corner. He watched in amusement as she bustled past him, grabbing various khaki items while muttering swears under her breath.

"Well, darling, I would and all but I'm married."

"Yeah, married to the devil." Larkin rolled her eyes. "Get out so I can change."

"Oh I don't mind watching-"

"OUT!!"

~

"Ah, Private Wells. Right on time."

Lewis Nixon didn't know how she did it. He had been with the girl a mere fifteen minutes ago and since that time had made it to the party with mere moments to locate Dick. When he had left her in her small room, Larkin had been a mess. She was hungover and sleepy, her hair tangled and her body swaddled in an old, dirty t shirt. He had expected her to be late to the function, or rather not show at all, but at 7 pm sharp, the private was strolling through the aged oak doors of the army hall.

Her blonde hair was pulled back in a delicate bun, each strand smoothed down perfectly. A slightly wrinkled formal uniform had replaced the old shirt and her toned calves were accentuated by sheer pantyhose. The only makeup she wore was a bright red lipstick, the bold color almost distracting from the pink scars that littered her jaw and throat.

"I pride myself on punctuality, sir." Larkin met eyes with the grinning Nixon from across the room before turning her attention fully on Colonel Sink. The man had a smirk on his face and she knew he was fully aware she had been on bedrest all day nursing a killer hangover. Larkin would later stop questioning how Sink knew everything- he just did. But tonight, in the army bar full of paratroopers and beer she couldn't help but try to solve the uniqueness that was Colonel Sink.

"I'll introduce you to the men shortly, Private." The Colonel gestured to the rowdy group behind him, none of them noticing his presence or hers. As he spoke, a husky man came up behind him, clearing his throat and motioning his head towards another officer. Sink nodded in dismal of the man before turning to the officer who was standing awkwardly a few feet away.

At first glance, the man seemed to have a commanding presence but years in the army had trained Larkin to see through that persona. He was tall, a full head higher than the Colonel, but looked at the man like he was a god. His rigid back and nervous tick in the right hand as Sink greeted him made it obvious to the girl that he wanted to be a leader but simply couldn't.

"Ah, Captain Sobel." Colonel Sink didn't seem to notice the mans shortcomings as he nodded in his direction. Sobel lifted a hand in a harsh salute, the strictness in each move showing his dedication to perfection. "This is the Private Wells I was telling you about."