Chapter Text
June 1943.
“No Engine Cleven, huh?” Kay peered at him from across the officer’s club. He looked more like a Hollywood star than a pilot, but Kay supposed she didn’t have room to talk. She cleaned up well enough but, that was before she’d spent her days ferrying forts across the Atlantic.
Nora nodded. “Something Curt’s been going on about, ever since they all got here.”
Kay hummed, thinking of her own arrival at Thorpe Abbots weeks prior. Unlike when the boys had come in, it had been without ceremony or fuss. And they were boys, at least in her eyes, all bark and no bite. She wondered if they had ever even left home before they enlisted.
“Don’t stare too hard, now,” said Jackie. “If he comes over here you know damn well Egan will too.” Kay rolled her eyes while Nora let out a quiet laugh. The three pilots slipped back into an agreeable silence, letting the band's sounds whirl them away. They were playing Glenn Miller now, a smooth tune, and a good one for dancing. They only ever played songs that were good for dancing - if you were a northerner, in Jackie’s words - never anything fast and chaotic like her Louis Prima records. The music at the club was always perfect, the girls were always perfect, the uniforms were always perfect, and everything was always perfect.
Kay sighed before finishing off her beer. She could barely feel it. “I’ll be outside,” she told Jackie and Nora. “Gonna grab a smoke.”
Kay supposed that the boys could smoke inside, and so could their dates, and so could they. But then again, they all knew it wasn’t really about the cigarettes. Kay weaved her way between dancing couples and drunk soldiers until she reached the door and the cool evening air washed over her. It was pleasant and still, a reprieve from the chaos inside. The purple sky was nearly devoid of clouds, and a bomber’s moon was on the horizon. The weather would be good for flying tomorrow, at least for the boys. The wind in Greenland would be hellish, and coupled with the clouds it would give her, Jackie, and Nora a devil of a time getting the planes back to England. But they’d be together and in the air, and that would be enough: nobody but them, and that would be enough.
Kay lit up a cigarette, breathing in the smoke as her eyes slipped shut. Smoking was the only thing she’d kept up from her mother, the only trait they had in common. She used to say she was dead, since that was easiest. The dead were so much easier to manage than the living. But then she’d met Audrey, with her brave dead dad, and she’d stopped saying anything at all.
“Nice place you got out here, Kay.” She looked up to see Major Egan walking towards her, the light from the doorway silhouetting him. He’d been drinking inside with his buddies, but his strides were steady.
“I know how to find ‘em, Major,” Kay replied around her cigarette.
Major Egan let out a sigh and gave her a faux disappointed smile. “C’mon, it’s Bucky, remember?” He nodded, encouraging, and Kay laughed quietly.
“Sure, Bucky,” she said. She fished in her pocket for her remaining pack of Lucky Strikes, then one out to Major Egan. “You wanna join my little party?”
Major Egan nodded. “Why not, since you’re offering?” he said. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit the cigarette, taking a long drag. His eyes roved the horizon, reflecting the deep blue scattered with stars. “Nice night for a flight, huh?” he said.
Kay nodded. “Hopefully the Brits will do some damage.” Major Egan hummed in response, and the stillness of the twilight persisted. The hum of the crickets seemed to grow louder, and the velvet sky deeper and darker as Kay and Major Egan smoked in silence. She knew Nora would comment on it, the way she did everything, and she knew Jackie would tell her to leave it. But in the evening stillness, it was nice to pretend Major Egan was a friend. He was charming to a fault, but didn’t seem to put much stock in any woman’s flying skills. She looked over at him, and blue eyes met deep brown. He smiled at her, and she nodded back. They went back to smoking, but the moment broke as the door to the officer’s club swung open.
Light and music flooded forth, yet another Glenn Miller chart by the sound of it. Kay told herself to ask Jackie to put on something slow tonight something to help her settle back into the stillness. Something to make her feel calm and smooth and not on edge, not anxious for tomorrow.
“Bucky?” a low, quiet voice called.
Major Egan smiled. “Over here, Mother Hen.”
Kay looked over to see the blond-haired Major Cleven walking towards them, rolling his eyes in defeat. He seemed exasperated but content with Major Egan, his eyes sweeping over him before moving to her. His eyes were blue, too, just like his best friend’s. But different, deeper, as though there was something behind them. Kay couldn’t tell what.
“Evening, Major Cleven,” she said, straightening up from where she’d been leaning against the wall. She felt the dew clinging to the hems of her trousers brush against her legs.
“At ease, Lieutenant,” he said with a gentle smile. “And I seem to be at a loss for your name, unless we haven’t met?”
Kay returned his smile; it felt easy and natural. “Lieutenant Bennett, sir. Women’s Air Service Pilots.” She stuck out a hand for him to shake. He held it firmly in his own - not strong enough to hurt, but warm and solid.
“Excellent,” Major Cleven said, his smile growing. “We always need more solid pilots. And I imagine you, Huchthausen, and Broussard make quite the team.”
Kay blushed and was grateful for the way the twilight disguised it. “We do what we can, sir. Any day up in the air’s a good one.”
Major Egan chuckled. “Now that’s something I can get behind, Kay,” he said with a grin. Major Cleven cocked his head when he heard her first name, his eyes flashing between her and Major Egan.
“Kay,” he said, testing it softly, like a kitten just learning to walk. “Short for Katherine?” he asked.
“Nope,” she said. “Just Kay.” Major Cleven’s blue eyes stayed locked on hers as he nodded.
“Not everything’s short for somethin’, Buck,” Major Egan cut in. “Not every girl’s gonna have a nickname like Marge. ” The way said it, said Marge , was exaggerated and magical, and Kay knew exactly what it meant. She tore her eyes away from Major Cleven.
“Oh, lay off Bucky,” he shot back, his exasperation laced with exhaustion this time. The crickets seemed to be buzzing louder now, or maybe it was just the racing of Kay’s thoughts inside her head. It wasn’t a crime to find a man handsome, and it wasn’t a crime to look him in the eye. The problem was that he was looking back.