"You look like a goddamn mess, Wells! Like you got chewed up and thrown outta a fuckin tornado or something."
"Morning to you too, asshole."
It was Larkin's third day in England and she had already found a fast friend in Lieutenant Lewis Nixon. The two had met her first night in Aldbourne, when she had laid in bed sleepless for hours before finally giving in to her insomnia and heading outside. She had found the man sitting on a stone fence, sipping VAT 69 out of a flask and singing an off key rendition of Pistol Packin Mama. He was higher ranking than she, so Larkin had been hesitant to approach him, but had no choice once his tone deaf song became too unbearable.
She'd told him to shut his god damn pie hole. He'd told her to stop talking and drink.
It was safe to say that Larkin had immediately liked him. They'd hung around each other the following days, cracking sarcastic jokes as she drowned in paper work and interviews. The Colonel had ordered her to get all her records in order and meet with the press before she could even think about training. She'd finally gotten everything done yesterday, after hours and hours of dreary paperwork, only to receive a letter from the hospital refusing to clear her for combat. It had taken four phone calls and plenty of threats before the idiot doctor back in the states would finally relent.
Lewis had found her shortly after, and knowing seemingly everything about her despite their two days of knowing each other ("I'm an intelligence officer, sweet cheeks, its my job to know everything."), had brought her to his happy place- a well stocked bar in downtown Aldbourne. Larkin hadn't skimped on the alchohol that night. She had thrown back beer after beer, meddling with her mind to try and forget the occasional pain in her neck and the ever constant pain in her heart.
However, ridding herself of those pains only amplified the burn in her brain.
"Seriously, Lark, you look like shit." Lewis grunted, closing the door behind him as he walked into her room. It wasn't much- a small cream colored section of an elderly womans house in Aldbourne. As opposed to placing her in the barracks with the rest of the soldiers, Colonel Sink had offered her the opportunity to board with English families as the officers did. After spending months in sandy foxholes and dirty tents, there was no way Larkin was going to turn it down.
"Seriously, Lew- fuck off." Larkin grumbled, curling deeper into her blanket. Her head was rumbling, a sharp pain stabbing her temples everytime that goddamned Lieutenant spoke.
"I would and all..." Nixon stopped by the oak dresser on the far side of the room, fiddling with a delicate hairbrush that was definitely not Larkins. "But you have your first meeting with Easy Company in twenty minutes."
"Wha- ah, fuck!" The blonde shot out of bed, only to be immediately knocked down by the force of the crushing headache she had sustained from downing glasses and glasses of hard liquor. "Do me a favor and never let me ever, ever drink Vat 69 again. That shit is not my friend."
"More for me." Lewis shrugged. He found his way over to her unpacked duffel back, rooting through it before pausing with a shit eating grin. He turned slowly, his hands behind his back and Larkin immediately grew suspicious.
"What are you holding." She stood up, ignoring her headache as she cautiously surveyed his proud face. "Lewis Nixon, get your goddamn hands out from behind your back right now."
"I was trying to find your uniform for the meeting, but instead..." He smirked, pulling a silk chemise from behind his back. It was white and small, a gag gift from some of her friends on the First Front. They had put aside their cash just to buy Larkin- who seriously disliked dresses and slept only in t shirts- an obviously oppulent gift to annoy her. Still, she could never find the resolve to throw it away, especially after the ones who bought it for her hadn't been lucky enough to escape that fateful day. "I'm sure wearing this would definitely get the boys approval!" Nixon guffawed.
"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."
"Captain Sobel." Larkin saluted him politely and pretended not to notice as his eyes dragged up her figure before meeting hers with disdain.
"At ease, Private Wells." His voice was deep and full, yet had a hint of a nervous tremor. He remained polite yet met her eyes with an irking superiority. Larkin watched him with interest.
Colonel Sink left to address the men and suddenly the polite Sobel was gone. He stepped closer to her, asserting himself through his looming height. His voice was quieter now, still legible but too low for anyone around them to hear. "Private, you will be joining my Company. They're the best in the 101st and I will not have any wayward broad come in and ruin their record. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir." Larkin gritted her teeth, meeting his glare head on. This Captain wasn't anything new to her. He was throwing around his power, overcompensating for his clear lack of leadership.
"I refuse to have a loose" Sobel spat the word. "woman come into my company and fornicate with my men. You will be going into combat, Private. You are not here to beg for male attention like the weak woman you are."
"Sir." Larkin was fuming. She was slightly aware of the sound of Colonel Sinks voice, addressing the men from the front of the room, but mostly her attention was focused on the multiple ways she could kill the disgrace of a man in front of her.
"Private Wells." Sobels hand moved, rubbing the coarse fabric of her skirt. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her thigh as he straightened her uniform. The hands travelled north, barely gliding over her breasts before tightening her tie. "Your skirt is creased and your tie too tight. If you want to remain in Easy Company, there will be no more oversights on your part, am I clear?" His voice was tough but there was a new softness to it, a breathy quality that made Larkin want to attack him.
"Yes, Captain Sobel, Sir." it wasn't Larkins first time dealing with a man like Sobel. She'd been around people like him before- overcompensating loud and obnoxious men who to thought that they deserved more than on the others. She had fought by their sides in Algeria and later Italy. Yeah, Larkin knew the type. The men like Sobel the officers who overexerted their power and believed that they were better in every facet that any man on the team would run the second a gun was fired, would hide and watch their men get slaughtered and not care because 'hey, at least it wasn't them.'
The touch of Herbert Sobel's hands made Larkin feel wretched. she didn't want that man near her again. It was obvious he saw her at some sort of slut. someone who just joined the Army to find a husband and be with as many men as possible. The way he had held eye contact as his hands grazed over her breasts made it clear that he only saw her as an object. She clenched her jaw and kept her silence as Sobel nodded at her in dismissal and disappeared towards a familiar man. Upon further inspection, she recognized him as the man who had driven her from the train. He met her gaze with contempt and she sent him a sugary smile.
"Boys! Listen up, you raggedy ass paratroopers!" The gravelly voice of Colonel Sink brought Larkins attention back to the stage. The man was standing in front of a microphone addressing the group of rowdy men who had seconds ago been guzzling beer and yelling in craps contest and now stood at attention, their backs straight and their heads high.
"I've thrown this little shindig not only because you are the best goddamn regiment in the airborne." A roar of approval went up through out the crowd. "Easy Company has consistently had the best record out of the 506th. You've marched together, you've bled together, you've jumped out of goddamn planes together! But just because you are good in drills does not mean you will be good in the battlefield." The room quieted now, the rowdy shouts of 'damn right' and 'fuck the 82nd' stopping as Sinks voice grew serious.
"None of you have experienced combat. Private wells has." Larkin watched from the sidelines as the men began to look around, muttering confused questions and some even debating if Sink was drunk. She bit her lip nervously, not sure that she wanted the men to know she had been in combat before. They were fresh faced and hopeful, never having seen the horrors that she had. She didn't want to have to relive the pain of war in order to answer the questions she'd knew they would pester her with. But it seemed as if there was no choice in the matter.
"tonight is a special occasion- tonight we have a new member joining the easy company ranks. Private wells is a seasoned combat medic. This soldier has fought in north Africa in the first airborne assault with paratroopers in US history. Wells also jumped into Italy during operation husky as the lead medic of the most successful division in the 509th. For the brave and life saving action Private Wells took in Sicily, SHE was awarded the distinguished service cross."
The silence in the room vanished as soon as Sink revealed her gender. Men began to shout in confusion, some in annoyance and others in disapproval. Larkin felt Nixons eyes on her again and she gave him a small smile as she made her way over to stand next to Colonel Sink. The paratroopers were in complete disbelief, that this slender blonde woman had such a resume and that she had been awarded the distinguished service cross. Many yelled out in objection, others screaming out profanities.
"Get your asses under control!" Colonel sink yelled angrily his hand pulling up into a fist and shaking it as he stared out among the easy company men. "This woman is someone to be respected. she is your medic, she is a soldier. now if I hear about any of you give private wells hard time you will report directly to me and will thereby be removed from easy company and stationed with a different regiment. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir!" The men called out in unison. Larkin could feel their weighty gazes on her and she kept her chin up high. The judgmental stares of men didn't scare her. This was her company and she would prove herself whether they liked it or not.
"At ease." Colonel sink dismissed us men as easy as he had addressed them, turning away to look at Larkin with a slightly proud look. "Those men will give you a hard time and that's the damn truth.They aren't ready for a woman to be out on the field with them but they'll learn. You will gain their respect in no time."
Larkin was surprised at the amount of affection that Colonel Sink had just shown her. It was odd for her to have anyone really like her. Although she was a good soldier as well as a good medic much of the brass in the 509th had never gotten over the fact that she was a woman. Colonel sink seem to have gotten over her outburst in his office a few days ago and had accepted her, as well as even maybe taking her under his wing. It was welcomed feeling to have someone on her side and Larkin smiled heartily back at him.
"Thank you, sir."
"I believe you've already met Lieutenant Nixon, yes?" Sink nodded distractedly, practically towing Larkin towards the two men. The girl could hardly hold in her snort. Had she met Nixon? She wondered how Sink would feel knowing that she'd already gotten drunk with the man more than once and he'd been in her room moments before.
"Possibly, sir." Larkin smirked softly. "The name sounds familiar." Nixon rolled his eyes at her, before saluting Sink respectively, as did the man next to him.
"At ease, men. Private Wells I want to introduce you to Lieutenant Winters." The Colonel gestured to the man next to Nixon. "He is the first Lieutenant of E Company."
"Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant." Winters stood about a head taller than her, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. His red hair was cut short and the straightness of his shoulders painted him to be a polite, yet well respected man.
"Welcome to Easy, Private Wells." His voice was low and soft, yet commanding enough to be heard over the shouts of the rowdy soldiers behind them. He gave her a half smile and gripped her hand in a strong handshake. It wasn't overpowering, instead more of a silent promise of leadership.
"I'll leave you here, Wells." The Colonel looked down at her with a grin as she saluted him. "Remember what i said." With that, Sink was gone. Larkin smiled softly to herself, thinking about how nice it was to have some brass on her side. She got the feeling Sink liked her simply because he knew she could smack some sense into his men and she was not planning on letting him down.
"You clean up well, Lark." Nixon chuckled. "Who knew you could actually look human after seeing you twenty minutes ago."
"Wish I could say the same, Lew." Larkin grinned slightly, reaching up to pat her friends face patronizingly. "Why the hell didn't you shave? You look like a grizzly bear and a cave man had a love child."
"I've been telling him that for years." Winters smiled drily. Nixon let out a sound of protest, looking between the two in annoyance.
"What? You're supposed to be my friends!"
"I assume you're the one Nix has been grumbling about for the past few days?" The red headed man grinned at her again and Larkin was struck at just how attractive he really was. The allure seemed hidden under his commanding presence and stiffness.
"The one and only." She flashed a smile, trying ignore the tug of pain that ran through her neck when she lifted the corners of her mouth.
"Oh great, now-"
"Lieutenant Winters, Lieutenant Nixon." Nix's complaint was cut off by the breathy drawl of a soldier. "I was wonderin if I could steal Private Wells from ya." The newcomer was of average height, with pale skin and blue-black hair. He wore the badge of a medic proudly on his upper arm.
"Take her." Nixon grumbled.
"Of course, Doc." Winters smiled easily at the man, nudging Nixon discreetly as the man muttered something under his breath.
The medic nodded, murmuring his thanks as the two Lieutenants strolled off to the bar. "Ms. Wells-"
"Call me Larkin." She smiled at the mans nervousness. "We're on the same level, Doc."
"Roe, actually, Eugene Roe. I'm no doctor." The man shook his head bashfully. "I haven't saved any lives."
"You will." Larkin took the initiative in an attempt to steer the topic off of combat. "You're Cajun?"
"Half." Eugene raised his eyebrows at the brash woman in front of him. She talked with assurance, a Boston accent thickly clinging to her confident words. He had seen her earlier with Lieutenant Nixon, joking with him despite his rank. She seemed fearless- was that what combat did to you? Was she as nervous as him before her first taste of war? "How'd ya know?"
"I've met men from all over the country, Doc." Larkin gave him a half smile. "Now, is the medic program here decent or am I going to have to whoop some asses into shape?"
By the time Roe was pulled away by an anxious man blabbering something about a bar fight a few blocks over, Larkin had learned quite a bit about Easy Company. They had been together for almost two years, first at a camp Toccoa in Georgia and then up through a string of more northern military bases until they set sail for England.
Larkin had laughed when she learned that they too had gotten their jump wings at Fort Benning. She had been so young when she had first gone there, so innocent and hopeful. She had jumped out of her first airplane there and she still remembered the hot wind on her face as she drifted back down towards the Frying Pan.
It seemed Easy, although extremely well trained and equipped, had little in the way of medics. There were only two- Roe and another man named Ralph Spina. Neither of them had any medical background.
Larkin had expected to be the most experienced medic, as she had been in combat, but it was a complete surprise to her that neither Spina nor Roe had any medical background. They were simply two recruits who had decided to specialize in splints as opposed to rifles.
Larkin couldn't exactly talk- she too had never been a nurse before the war. Yet her degree in biology, in which she had specialized in chemistry, meant that she had a substantial background in science. Of course, when she was slaving over bio books in her college library, she'd never expected to find herself bandaging bloody wounds in the midst of a battle.
"Now what's a pretty dame like you doin in a place like this?" A shorter soldiers loud voice caught Larkins attention.
"I assume the same as you private." Larkin drawled, having met enough soldiers to not get offended by his lack of manners. "serving my country." Her eyes travelled over his stout Italian features and the mug of beer gripped tightly in his hands. The man was drunk, no doubt about that, but then again so was the entire 506th by the looks of it. "One stale and lukewarm beer at a time."
"Hey, hey, Perco, didn't ya mama ever teach you how to talk to a lady?" Another man pushed his friend, shaking his head in annoyance. "Jeez, you're a freakin wreck."
"I would've asked yours to last night but she was a little busy sucking my-"
"Christ almighty!" The man, Perco, was promptly smacked upside the head by his friend. "Don't you talk about my mama like that, you rat bastard. My apologies for this Italian freak, miss." The man grabbed her hand, laying a kiss on her fingers and dropping a wink. "George Luz, at your service."
"Pleasure to meet you, George Luz." Larkin watched the encounter with a small smirk playing on her lips. The two soldiers were evidently very close and it reminded her of the old days, before her men had jumped into war. "Care to introduce me to this Casanova?"
"Frank Perconte, miss." Perconte smiled winningly, dropping kisses all over her hand. "But you can call me whatever or whenever you like."
"You're a real drugstore cowboy, aren't you?" Larkin couldn't keep back the laugh that bubbled out of her as Perconte winked exaggeratedly.
"Hey, perco!" Loud cries from the other side of the room thankfully distracted the small man before he got too confident. "Share your broad!"
Larkin raised an eyebrow, a light smirk on her face. The calls came from a table of nine rowdy paratroopers, all crowded around a deck of cards and well armed with beer.
"Hello to you too, boys." She snickered. Pulling herself away from Perconte before he could slobber on her hand more, Larkin made her way over to the group. They watched her with fascination and hesitation, not used to seeing such a confident and powerful woman on their base. "I hear my presence has been requested?"
"Thought we'd save ya from that stupid mick over there." A man, husky and strong jawed, piped up in a deep Philadelphian accent. A sound of objection came from behind her and Larkin looked back to see the two men from earlier making their way over.
"Ah Shuddup, Gonnorhea." Perconte stumbled over, Luz in tow. He threw an arm around Larkin without a thought, drawing her in close as he stuck out his tongue at the one with unfortunate nick name.
"Hey wanna get your gaddamn arm off me?" Larkin joked. "How am I supposed to find a husband in this place with a drunk draped over me?" She capitalized on the wide misconception of women only working to find husbands. If she was to truly get along with these men, Larkin wanted to know that they weren't the type who thought the worst.
"Hey, sweetheart, I'm up for the takin!" A man called out, followed by a string of other offers. Larkin grinned as the men laughed, understanding and enjoying her joke.
Thank god, she thought drily. She wouldn't have enjoyed curbing her humor for some clueless paratroopers.
"Wha- what about us, Larkie? I thought we had something special!" Perconte slobbered on her.
"The only this special here is ya goddamn education, perc!" A soldier called out.
"You wound me!"
"yeah yeah yeah! Now stop blabbering and let the lady go!"
Perconte was wrenched off her by George Luz, who was shaking his head in laughter and muttering something about stupid Italians.
"Is someone gonna deal me in or am I gonna have to stand here all night?"
A long and rather heated game of poker followed. Larkin had been taught poker before she had even learned how to read. Her father had loved the game, as had Josiah and Katarina. It was a staple of her younger years and her knack for the game hadn't worn off.
"How in the hell- Christ, Leibgott this is the fourth time in a row you lost to a gadamn dame!" The square jawed man with a strong Philadelphia accent slapped his friend on the back. Guarnere, while rather inappropriate and brash, had grown on Larkin immensely in the last few games of poker.
"Hey shut the fuck up, gonnorea, I don't see you winning either." Leibgott rolled his eyes.
"You're welcome to join- unless you're too scared of this gadamn dame." Larkin snarked, drawing laughs from the other men.
From across the room, Lewis Nixon took a deep sip of his whiskey and grinned. "They seem to like her."
"Yes, it appears she fits in quite well." Sitting next to him at the bar was Dick Winters, twirling his cup of lemonade with one hand and watching the newest member of his company with interest.
Larkin laughed at something Don Malarkey said, throwing her head back and displaying her neck. His eyes traced the various dark pink scars littering her skin. A particularly deep looking one spanned from beneath her collar up to her bottom lip and Dick wondered if she still felt the pain from her injuries.
As if she felt his eyes on her, Larkin looked over towards him. Dick felt warmth grow in his cheeks as her intense gray eyes met his, catching him staring at her. Try as he might, he couldn't look away from them. Larkin smiled at him, lighting up her face in a way that the dim bar lights just couldn't do.
"Dick. Dick!"
"Hm?" Wrenching his eyes away from the medic, the lieutenant looked back at his friend. Nixon sighed, a smirk on his face as he rolled his eyes.
"Am I gonna have to worry about you trying to steal my new friend?" Lewis grinned drily, laughing as Dick blushed.
Dick stole a quick look back over to Larkin, who was now by the darts board with a group of his men. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.
"You have nothing to worry about, Nix." He smiled, pushing the thought of Larkin Wells from his mind. "She's all yours."