Chapter Text
"Never."
"Now, listen 'ere Dee-Dee, you ain't gotta be difficult."
Her glare was sharp and the frown on her lips was scathing.
Greg sighed softly as he bounced the brush from his left hand over to his right. "Gettin' your hair did ain't the end of the world."
Her hands flew up to her hair, clutching at it defensively, as she took one step back, "They wanted to cut it! That is not just getting my hair did."
She was being as difficult as the rest of them could get.
Under less pressing circumstances, he would have been a lot more patient and caring about her concerns. But considering how they were already an hour behind schedule and Trevor had made a fine mess by promising that they would be on time... well, he'd need to take drastic measures.
Never again would he ever allow Travis to let him be the one to deal with this sort of thing.
"An' what's so bad 'bout gettin' yer hair cut?"
"I love it as it is." she huffed in a petulant way that reminded him a whole lot of how huffy Sylvester got whenever Wing poked at him about his love for the romantic moving pictures they barely got around to seeing.
He could have attempted to convince her that this was not the way to go. The proper and respectful thing to do, really, would be to have a proper talk with her about the importance of paying attention to propriety and looking presentable when invited to a meeting with someone as important as the President of the United States of America.
But.
It's not like he had ever really cared about much of that.
Besides, Travis had left him in charge of this whole charade even after he had protested that it'd be a horrible idea.
"Seems like we're at an impasse."
Her glare deepened.
Greg clicked his tongue, narrowed his own eyes back... and then sighed heavily.
"Alright, no scissors. Can we at least braid it?"
They had been told by the stylist Trevor sent over that Dee-Dee's hair had to be shorter than it was for the style that was supposed to best match her dress. The hairdresser was waiting for them, too, to get her scissors on the Amazon's long locks.
But.
Well, that wasn't happening.
Trevor and the rest of them be damned.
"Do you know how?" Dee-Dee didn't seem particularly trusting, but at least she wasn't glaring anymore.
"Sure do." he nodded slowly, "Had to fer my sisters back home. Now, giddy-up girly. We're late enough. An' we'll have to sneak off ta make sure Trevor don't see us."
Travis wasn't going to scold them with any heat because he cared for propriety as much as the rest of them. But Trevor would make a big show about his discontent at some point because Dee-Dee's appearance reflected on him for some stupid reason.
Not like that really mattered all that much to Greg.
"There is a reason why you are my favorite Soldier, Greg." she strode towards the chair in front of the mirror, earning an immediate scoff from him.
"We all know the boys're your favorites."
"They are called yeeroh. Would you like to try one?"
The way in which Dee-Dee pronounced the name struck Travis in a very similar way to how Wing speaking Chinese hit him- to him, it sounded equal parts beautiful and otherworldly.
"Don't see why not." he smiled as he took the offered oddity.
Rationing back home meant that bountiful meals like these were only left to the lucky few that had enough money to be capable of ignoring empathy that should be given to fellow men. Hell, he was real sure that this wasn't something that they really should have been offered, seeing how Greece wasn't exempt from the warfaring going on.
But they were here as part of a diplomatic mission that Steve Trevor had somehow managed to convince Dee-Dee to go on and had been put up in the home of some rather wealthy yet surprisingly kind people that seemed to like Dee-Dee well enough. And seeing how this was the food that they had been offered for the night, he saw no particular need to try and not be a hypocrite over what was a proper meal in regards to rationing guidelines.
It was basically an open faced sandwich. He could see bits and bobs of all different kinds of vegetables and meat, including a good dollop of a white sauce he couldn't place.
The scenery they were surrounded by was breathtaking, but it wasn't like that was much of a surprise. He had always been a big lover of the country-side back home after having been a city-dweller all his life. It wasn't that big a surprise to find that he found the mountainous regions of far away countries equally breathtaking.
Below them, near the campfire that had been set up by the rest of the Resistance, he could hear the boisterous laughter that came with the celebratory dinner all of the men were sharing. Wing's melodic giggles punctuated the night rather noticeably, along with Ace's drunken chuckles.
Even if there was a clear language barrier between the Soldiers and the members of the Greek Resistance, there was fun to be had. It was a clear difference from the temperament they had first found when they had first landed in Greece.
"I have never tasted anything quite like this before." Dee-Dee sat down beside him on the crate he had sequestered for himself.
He had come here for a moment alone. Even if he was glad that their mission seemed to have been rather successful and the Allies were one step closer to gaining the Resistance's aid in finally being able to liberate Greece from Nazi occupation... it had been rough of on him.
It had been rough on all of them, he knew. He wasn't about to minimize the looks of horror and grief he had seen from his friends when they had been walking around the camp; nor would he ever ignore how hard they had all fought to beat back the Nazi bastards that tried to crush them only a few hours prior.
But.
Of them all, he knew he was the only that needed to make sure to keep how badly this hurt him from the others.
He wasn't sure why they all looked at him for guidance but... well, there was no more denying it. In the field, it was he that they turned to for orders and plans; he was the one tasked with keeping their morale up; he was the one that needed to be strong at all times.
It was just... real hard to be that when all he truly wanted to do was curl up, cry, and disappear for a while. Not forever; never forever; Wing and the rest needed him after all.
"Well, it looks pretty good." he offered back with a smile he knew didn't reach his eyes.
"Would you care to listen to how it is made? Alixia explained the process to me while we finished serving what would feed the rest."
The night sky was incredibly bright here due to all the stars he could see. It was a real breath of fresh air after being so accustomed to the blinding lights of the city.
"Sure thing."
He knew that Dee-Dee knew what he was doing up here, so far away from the rest, nestled in the outskirts of the camp where one would have to be looking if they wanted to find him. Just like she knew that he knew what she was doing here, interrupting his time alone. But. He wasn't about to interrupt her. The Soldiers all demonstrated their love and care for one another in different ways. Dee-Dee had a habit of mothering him when she knew that the rest weren't aware of how bad something was eating at him.
Theoretically, he knew that Dee-Dee was older than the whole mess of them even if they were all put together. She wasn't young by any means... and yet, when he saw her, all he could see was a kid that needed his guidance, care, and patience as much as the rest of the Soldiers.
He still wasn't sure how he felt about how she was able to read him so damn well. In a way, it was outright embarrassing for a kid to worry about him when it was his job to worry after her. In another... it was nice.
Dee-Dee started up on a whole monologue explaining the process required to make the particular meat that this yeeroh contained, including the ingredients that were added to spice it and how slow a process it was. Once she finished that, she went on to tell him about the bits added to the sandwich. And, once done with that, she went on to explain to him how it was something so delicious to her that she may just attempt to invest in the necessary machinery to make it once they returned back home.
Travis munched on his delicious meal as he listened with a semi-attentive ear. In reality, what he was really listening to was more her voice; how animated, intrigued, and young she sounded as she spoke; than what she had been saying.
In all, what he got out of what she said wasn't much, even if he knew it would eventually mean the world to him: Dee-Dee loved this food and wanted to eat it once she went back to the US.
Home, she had called it.
The smile that ended up on her face didn't reach his eyes. But it also didn't hurt him to keep up.