Charlie and Floyd both acted like nothing had happened the night they'd arrived in Stürzelberg because, really, what had happened?
Nothing, Charlie told herself repeatedly, every time she saw him. Nothing had happened at all. And if she'd been stupid enough to give away how badly she'd wanted him to stay then he hadn't mentioned it since, so that had to be counted as a success.
The men all joked that Germany was the best country they'd been to so far. They listed reasons such as the food and the beds and the showers but what they all meant was the women. They would wink at each other and laugh as they spoke about how Germany was 'good fraternising territory', and Charlie could only imagine what they were all getting up to - though, in all honesty, she tried her best not to.
And, now that she was looking out for it, Charlie could see exactly where Floyd had gotten the idea that Mabs and Speirs were... involved. Whenever they were in the same place their eyes could hardly stay away from each other, and certainly Charlie had never seen her friend smile like that just because of a man.
And Speirs. Well, when he spoke to Mabs he was a changed man. All of them had seen the change in him as he'd gone from one of Dog Company's officers to the commanding officer of Easy, how he'd become less scary as they'd gotten to know him more, but nothing changed him quite like the presence of one blonde Southern bombshell. She had him twisted around her little finger and Charlie was sure she knew it.
But she didn't know whether to ask her about it. They told each other everything about every other aspect of their lives, but they'd never really spoken all that much about their romantic lives. Indeed, Charlie had found out from Floyd that he and Mabs had gotten what they'd wanted from each other, and, on her side, she'd only told Mabs details about her relationship with James after he'd died, and even then only when Mabs had asked.
It eluded her why they never let each other in on these parts of their lives. And she wanted Mabs to be in on every part of her life.
But she didn't want to tell her about her feelings for Floyd. Not yet, at least. Just now her affection was too overwhelming to try to convince anyone it was going away, and Charlie was still struggling with the unrequited aspect of her unrequited love. Every time she saw Floyd she felt that she loved him more, impossible as that seemed, and it felt to her like she was ripping her own heart out and stamping on it every time she reminded herself he didn't love her in the same way.
And he was a flirt. And Stürzelberg was nothing if not flirting territory. Fraternising territory. Mabs would surely only look at Charlie with pity as she had to tell her of all of his recent adventures in love-making to local women, and that would only break Charlie's heart further.
So, until she was ready and willing to confess all to Mabs, she wouldn't ask Mabs to do the same with her. It was only fair to be just as willing to give as she was to take.
There was little to do in Stürzelberg while acting as an occupation force. They had the field hospital set up in the house the nurses were staying in, out of convenience, and though Henry had them remain there in shifts, ready and waiting for something to happen, nothing did. Which was good, of course. If they were busy then that was bad. But it was also boring.
"Boo, truth or dare," Mabs said as they all sat around in the living room one day. While technically only Charlie and Autumn were on shift, Mabs and Boo had decided to hang around to keep them company - there was little else to do - and Henry had joined them, too, which was rare but did happen on occasion. And since there was little else to do, she allowed them to play their silly little game.
"Truth," Boo said.
Autumn groaned. "Wimp," she teased, and when Boo stuck her tongue out at her she only grinned.
"Did you have a crush on any of the boys before you met George?" Mabs asked, proceeding with her question.
Boo smiled shyly, which was answer enough, but she spoke anyway. "There are lots of handsome men in the company," she said, defending herself. And then: "I thought Skinny was cute. But don't tell him that. Or George."
All of them laughed.
"Skinny makes sense for you," Henry said.
Boo shrugged. "What can I say? I have a type." Her eyes became sly as she directed her question at Henry. "Truth or dare?"
"Truth," Henry decided.
"Are you and Malarkey together?"
Henry ducked her head and they all heckled her. She could only laugh. "As your CO, I could reprimand you for asking such a question."
"But are you?" Boo persisted, shameless.
"Not formally," Henry hedged.
This was a good enough answer for the four nurses who worked beneath her.
"I knew it!" Mabs exclaimed, bouncing around where she sat on the couch. "I knew it!"
Charlie, of course, had actually known it, but out of love for Don and respect for Henry she'd kept her mouth shut. Now, however, she could tease Don about it in good conscience. Thank you, Henry.
"Mabs, truth or dare?"
"Dare," answered Mabs simply.
"I dare you to..." Henry looked around the room, searching for inspiration for her dare. Her eyes passed over the red couch and its cushions, the doll Charlie had placed carefully on the bookshelf in the corner by the stairs, the window with its red curtains, and the coffee table, before her eyes lit up with an idea. "I dare you to steal a pack of Speirs' cigarettes."
Autumn scoffed. "Henry, you're as clueless as Charlie is."
But Charlie wasn't clueless on this occasion. She knew exactly why this wasn't a very good dare, but she kept her mouth firmly shut and her eyes innocent, because if Mabs had wanted to tell her then she would have.
"Why is she clueless?" Mabs asked, turning a pointed gaze on Autumn.
Autumn only smirked. "Go steal his cigarettes, Mabs," she said, eyes glinting. "Maybe you could bring me back a new hairbrush while you're at it?"
Mabs rolled her eyes, but there was a smile behind them even as she retorted, "Do ya think Lieb would use it to give me a haircut if I asked all nice?"
Autumn smirked, always untroubled, and replied, "You'd have to ask really nicely, but I think he could be persuaded."
Mabs left after that, and they sat waiting around for all of fifteen minutes, making mindless small talk between them, before she returned with a pack of cigarettes. "You can ask any of the men where I got these from for proof they used to belong to Captain Speirs," she said, brandishing the pack with a flourish and sitting back down on the couch. "So, Charlie," she said next, pretending to be casual as she turned her eyes on her, "truth or dare?"
Charlie had already thought this through. She wouldn't say truth, because one of the others was bound to ask her about Floyd, so she would go for dare, because none of them would be bold enough to dare her to do something outrageous. But now that it came down to it, she was nervous. Her palms itched and her stomach turned, but still she replied, decisive, "Dare."
"Ooh," Autumn said from where she was perched on the edge of the coffee table. "Brave."
"Or stupid," added Boo with a laugh.
"Charlie Lancaster," Mabs said, speaking slowly to give herself time to formulate her decision, "I dare you to..."
"President's dead," George said, bursting into the room.
Mabs blinked at him. "What?"
"The president's dead," George repeated.
"Oh," said Boo.
"Yeah."
"Anyway," George said. He stood up straighter and looked around the room, then turned back to them. "Carry on." And with that, he left.
No one much felt like playing truth or dare after that.
Charlie would have to thank George later for his perfect timing.
The five of them sat down at the dining room table to have dinner, which was the closest they'd come to normal life since Aldbourne, and spoke idly about things they'd heard from their families back home. Another one of Mabs' brothers had been sent home wounded - he'd taken a bullet to the neck and was in a hospital not too far from her house, which she said with a mix of worry and relief but ultimate certainty that he would be okay - and Autumn's younger sister was talking about becoming a nurse once she graduated high school. Her parents weren't happy about this, Autumn said, and had called her all manner of things from reckless to irresponsible in their letter to her, but she remained firm in her belief that she had made the right choice in choosing to go overseas.
Henry's brother had gotten a promotion and was now working in intelligence for the marines, and her sister had just gotten a job as a secretary. And even Boo spoke a little bit about her siblings. All of them were younger than her, and her eldest brother was about to become of age and enlist. Her other brother was considering dropping out of school and lying about his age to join them, which turned her face pale with worry, but when she spoke of her sister, who was still in middle school, she settled again.
For her part, Charlie spoke only a little about her parents. They were still regaling her with stories of her friends back home who had gotten married and were now beginning to pop out babies, and telling her all about this young man who had just graduated from West Point or that one who was working high up in Army intelligence, both of whom were still single and would be just perfect for her. She spoke bitterly about her parents' continued hope for her advantageous marriage, dreading the time when she'd eventually have to return home and agree to spend the rest of her life chained to a man who didn't actually love her, and who she didn't actually love in turn, but tried to turn the conversation back to lighter things afterwards when she asked the table at large, "So, what kind of flowers do you think you'll want at your wedding?"
Ten days later, three hundred thousand German soldiers surrendered and Easy Company had new orders. They were being sent to the Alps, and Charlie was excited. She'd always wanted to see the Alps.
Before she left the house, Charlie made sure to make the bed and leave the bedroom exactly as she'd found it. She left her chocolate ration on the nightstand with the pictures of the German soldier in the hopes it would make up for stealing the room away for just under a month.
In the living room, she carefully placed the doll back where it had been sitting the night she'd found it and shivered as she recalled the way Floyd had looked at her that night, like he would have done anything she asked of him, then shook her head to rid herself of the thought. She gave the doll a gentle pat on the head and then left the house, hoping that where they went next would be just as nice as Stürzelberg had been, and that the people there would be just as welcoming.
The military trucks pulled out of Stürzelberg to the soundtrack of the men singing one of their paratroopers' songs. Charlie had heard it before but wasn't familiar enough to know any of the words except the chorus, which was easy to pick up. So, as they headed away from one German town and towards another, she closed her eyes and bobbed her head to the tune, revelling in the feeling of the breeze blowing her freshly washed hair back from her face and the smell of the flowers in the fields they passed.
The song went on and on and on, longer than any song Charlie had ever heard, and eventually she grew tired of it. She turned to look out at her surroundings, attempting to tune out the repetitive song and its pessimistic lyrics, and admired how much prettier the world got as they headed further south.
They wouldn't reach their destination, Landsberg am Lech, today. Probably, that would take almost a week's worth of travelling, what with how slow the trucks had to drive to be on the lookout for enemy activity, but Charlie didn't mind so much.
She didn't watch as the men cleared families out of their homes that night in some nameless German town they'd stopped off at along the way. And, when she was directed to her billet, she went inside and found a room without arguing.
But she didn't stay there for long.
Charlie had gotten herself ready for bed, had undressed and taken out her hair, even pulled back the sheets and sat down on the mattress before she decided she didn't want to sleep just yet. So, not entirely sure of where she was going, Charlie pulled her ODs back on and crept down the stairs, and found Floyd sitting on a bench just across the street, puffing on a cigarette.
She sat beside him wordlessly, aware he was tracking her every move, and settled in close for warmth. "Hi," she greeted him quietly when she was comfortable, or as close to it as she was going to get.
"Hi," he answered, still looking down at her even though she was now still.
"Couldn't sleep?" she wondered.
"Haven't tried yet," he replied. "You?"
"Me neither." She gave him a weak smile and no explanation.
They sat together in silence, Floyd smoking and Charlie inhaling deeply the scent of him mixed with the smoke of his cigarette. When he finished it he dropped it on the floor and stamped it out. Charlie watched him with mild interest before she sighed, tucked some hair behind her ear, and tipped her head back to look at the stars.
"I like your hair like that," Floyd said softly, watching her.
"Like what?" Charlie asked, turning her head to look at him. "I've not done anything to it."
"Exactly." He smiled. "I like it the way it is."
"Then you'd be the only one," she joked with a quiet laugh. "But thank you, I suppose."
"You suppose?"
"Well, I can only imagine you're saying so because you prefer it like this to how I normally wear it, so I'm not sure it counts as a compliment, really."
Floyd rolled his eyes and laughed. "Fishing for more?"
"No." Charlie scoffed. But secretly, she thought, Yes. She drank every compliment he gave her like they were water and she was dehydrated, and stored all of them away in her mind to cradle carefully in her hands when she was alone. A compliment from him was like being sprinkled in stardust, the simplest thing worth so much more from him than something far greater from anyone else.
She turned her eyes back on the stars to keep him from seeing the affection she was sure had flooded into her face, tried to funnel all of her concentration into admiring them and how much brighter they were here than they had been anywhere else. "I hope the stars are bright in the Alps," she said the very same moment she thought it, and knew, because she knew him entirely, that Floyd would be smiling.
"You should sleep," he said quietly.
"Trying to get rid of me?"
"Absolutely."
"Does this remind you of the dance in Aldbourne?" she asked.
"Charlie," Floyd said, and she could hear him smiling, now. "You should sleep."
"I will," she assured him, giving him a smile of her own. "But does it?" She gestured at the sky. "The stars. Us, alone and sitting on a bench in the dark."
"Except you're not drunk off your ass and covered in your own blood."
"A minor detail," Charlie acknowledged.
He laughed. "Yeah, I guess it does a little."
Was I in love with you then? Charlie wondered. She didn't think so, but how could she know for sure? It had snuck up on her so well she couldn't pinpoint the moment it had happened, or even the moment she'd realised. It just felt like something that had always been true. As long as Charlie had been Charlie, she had been in love with Floyd.
It wasn't true, of course, because she'd had a life before him, but it felt like it sometimes. Who had she been before he'd brought out the best in her? What could she possibly have spent her days doing if not finding new things to love about him?
Under the light of the stars and the moon, his eyes were warm and deep and she could have drowned in them. Such beautiful eyes. She had never loved a pair of eyes like she loved his. She had never loved anyone's anything the way she loved his anythings.
And the words just slipped out. Before she could stop them. Before she'd even thought them up they were out in the air between them. "I love all your anythings."
Slowly, a smile grew on Floyd's face. "What?"
Well, there was no going back now.
"I love all your anythings," Charlie repeated, as though that made any sense without context. She smiled when his eyes, still bright with joy at what he supposed was a compliment, filled with confusion. "I was thinking that I -" She stopped short, because how could she explain this without saying the words 'I love you'?
"I was thinking," she tried again, slower this time, so she could monitor her words, "that some things from some people don't mean the same as other things from other people. Like, I don't know, Chuck, for instance, could buy me a hundred roses, or a hundred thousand, and I wouldn't love them as much as, say, a single lily from you. Because even though I like roses better, it's not the thing that matters, it's the person who's giving it."
It wasn't an entirely accurate explanation of what she'd been thinking, but it was as close as she could get without coming clean entirely, which she would most certainly not be doing.
Even still, Floyd looked like he'd just been told unicorns were real. "What if I got you a hundred thousand roses?"
"Then I'd probably pass out," she replied, matching his grin. "Or die. Maybe both."
"Don't do that."
"Don't get me a hundred thousand roses then."
"Well, there goes your birthday present."
Charlie sighed dramatically. "A shame, but I suppose I should be grateful to you for sparing my life."
Floyd laughed. "You're welcome, Freckles." Then he laughed again as he thought of something, and grinned when he said it. "You could punch me in the face and I'd love it just as much as a kiss from Rita Hayworth."
"On the lips?" Charlie asked with a mock gasp.
"With tongue," Floyd added, widening his eyes to communicate to her just how serious he was.
"Well, now I feel like a princess," Charlie declared, falling back against the bench and giggling. "Rita Hayworth is, like, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. So that's a big compliment."
"Well, I love all your anythings," Floyd said by way of explanation, shrugging, and she loved him so much in that moment she thought she would burst into tears. He was misusing the phrase - or, at least, using it in a different way to how she'd initially thought it up - but it was as good as a proposal to her. I love all your anythings. He was such an angel. She would never again love anyone the way she loved him.