Out of a Vacant Heart: A Band of Brothers Fanfiction

Tea for Two

England, 1944

It was a damp May, but that seemed the usual for the English countryside. Back home, she would have been riding in the front seat of the family car next to James with Owen singing along to the radio in the back as they made their way to Lake Sunapee.

The memory left her breathless with homesickness. She loved her mother, but her brothers were her best friends and comrades. If she had to be half a world away from them, at least she had her own war to occupy her.

"Catie Doyle!"

Cate halted a few feet from the lorry stop. Brushing away a few strands of hair that had fallen loose from their pins, her breath caught in her throat. Donald Malarkey from Astoria, Oregon jogged up to where she stood, holding her brown paper packages of dry cleaning.

"I thought that was you," he exclaimed, studying her face with fervor. "I didn't see you at the pub this weekend."

Cate gave a tight lipped smile. "I was too tired from our training."

Honestly, she had been nervous to return. During a time of war, her gut told her that to get involved with anyone was dangerous for both of them.

He smiled, but his eyes dimmed as though he guessed her thoughts. "Are you heading back to your quarters? Please, would you let me carry your packages for you?"

"I'm sure I can handle them," Cate replied politely.

Don pursed his mouth, thinly veiled disappointment creeping into his face. He tipped his cap and stepped away. "Well, it was good to see you. I am glad I ran into you, they have been hinting at our leaving coming up soon. The big jump into fortress Europa."

Cate's stomach lurched. "Wait, maybe-"

He paused, hopefully searching her face. She shrugged, shifting the packages in her arms. Spending a little time with him couldn't hurt. Don Malarkey was friendly and easy to talk to, she sensed they were two of a pair. It was nice to have someone she could be herself around.

"I was wondering, maybe you would like to get a cup of coffee... with me?" Heat fanned over her cheeks as she realized she had just asked out a boy. Her mother would have been horrified. Boys were supposed to chase, not girls. But it was too late to take it back now. "If you have the time this afternoon, of course. I know you must be busy."

Her nervous eyes danced to the opposite side of the street as he walked over to her.

"I would love to get some coffee with you, Catie Doyle." Without asking, he took the packages from her arms and tucked them under his elbow.

At the tea house on main street, the two of them found it was easier to share a pot of tea than coffee. Especially after the look they received from the waitress when they asked if coffee was available. Don was as unwilling to rock the boat in that foreign place. A sentiment she shared. The two of them smiled obligingly and let the sour faced woman order for them.

"You'd think we were planning on spiking our coffee with whiskey the way she was looking at us," Don scoffed, his dark brown eyes widening.

Cate snorted. "I mean, we do look like the type. Bad seeds to the bone."

"You certainly do. Catie Doyle, nurse by day. Lush by night."

"How'd you know?" She gaped with false shock.

"You're Irish, I'm Irish. It's a given."

The skeletal woman brought out a plate of crumbling scones with margarine and their tea. Rationing was just as harsh in England as it was at home, if not more. The British had been in the war nearly two years longer than their Yank counterparts. It was a fact that the foreign troops were rarely allowed to forget.

"So what led you to volunteer? You were exempt from the draft, working at the factory. At least I assume so," Cate asked after taking a bite of the flaky pastry.

"I was. But two guys who were 4F in my town committed suicide because of it. Do you think I'd be able to get away with staying in Oregon while all my neighbors' boys went to fight?"

"No, I guess you didn't really have the choice."

"I didn't want a choice." Don met her eyes, his easy going voice gaining a drive she hadn't heard before. "I had an uncle who was killed in the trenches back in 1918. I was born to do this, for this time. I believe it completely."

Cate swallowed dryly, stirring her tea. "You don't believe anything is simple chance?"

"Do you?"

Cate dared to look up into his eager expression. A bomb could have dropped in the street outside and she wouldn't have noticed. For a heart quaking moment, it was only the two of them at their corner table. The impatient waitress interrupted the moment as she slapped a bill between them.

A few hours later after walking the country lanes, Don led her to the door of her quarters. It was later than when she had told Joan and Mira she would be returning. However, by the look of the shadowed windows in the twilight, they had already been picked up by their dates for the evening.

"Thank you for the afternoon. I enjoyed myself," Cate said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic as she put the key in the door.

"Me too." Don held out the packages to her as she turned towards him on the doorstep. "Are you sure you don't want to come out to the pub tonight? Joan and Penkala are going. I even heard Bill Guarnere talking about taking out Mira."

Cate chuckled. "Does poor Bill know that Mira has a beau fighting somewhere in Italy?"

"Actually, I think he does."

"If Mira is anything, she certainly is open about her personal life." Cate met his eyes, Don steadily holding her gaze as she took the packages from his arms. Her heart leaped up her throat. "I really need to study."

Don tipped his hat, retreating backwards. "I understand. I'm not sure when they are going to be sending us out, but I'm glad I got to see you again."

"You be safe, Don Malarkey." Cate's voice pitched as she held the door frame with her free hand. "You promise?"

"I promise, Catie Doyle."

Tucking his hands in his pockets, he strolled down the brick path. Cate bit her bottom lip as he approached the white picket gate. A wave of panic rose up in her chest with the dreadful notion that she'd never see him again.

She didn't know what scared her more, Don dying in combat or that fact that she was that attached to someone she had just met. In that moment, she decided to stop fighting it.

She set the parcels on the doorstep. "Wait a moment!"

Hurrying towards the gate, she met him without slowing her pace. Before she could lose the gumption, she curled her hands around the back of his neck. He responded before she had a chance. Firmly grasping her waist, he nudged his lips against hers in the gentlest form of a kiss. The moment was as natural as though they had done it a thousand times before, as instinctive as waking up in the morning or drinking water.

A pair of headlights flashed towards them. A car horn blared followed by raucous laughter. Don quickly let go and Cate retreated, trembling as she straightened her skirt.

"Don't forget, you promised," she whispered, a damp fog growing around them as night fell, "Don't do anything stupid. Please."

Don breathed in sharply. "I won't."