At two in the morning, Alice crept back down the stairs of the Nixon estate. She couldn't sleep. The movie Casablanca had stirred up all sorts of memories she hadn't wanted to explore. Seeing Nazis on screen rattled her. And seeing Paris, well, that had been a whole other issue.

Wrapped in a massive blanket, she padded barefoot along the hardwood. Her heart pounded. The bottle of wine she'd had the night before still sat on the counter. Finding a glass didn't take long, and soon she had a large glass filled nearly to the brim of red wine.

She took a large drink. Setting it on the side table of the couch, she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped the blanket all around her. In the darkness, she watched snow falling outside the window. Everything here was quiet, too quiet. It meant too much time to think. As Guarnere always liked to tease her, she did too much thinking.

Alice had managed a bit of sleep. But as had been far too commonplace recently, it had ended in blood. That night, she'd been the victim. A member of the Gestapo had found her hiding in a closet. She stood, praying, behind a door as his boots pounded the wooden floors. His cold fingers had grabbed her by the neck when he opened her hiding place. His nails had dug into her skin, leaving red welts where he squeezed.

She had felt, rather than seen, the dagger he plunged into her abdomen. After waking, she'd realized the spot in the nightmare had been the scar she'd gotten in Toccoa. But in the dream, it was real. She'd felt the warm blood flow from the wound. Her hands had desperately tried to stave the blood. 

Downstairs in the living room, it felt almost peaceful. All she wanted was to return to Europe. Perhaps, if she went into combat, she could stop thinking and start doing. Alice wrapped the blanket tighter. After another large sip, she shivered. Her focus returned to the snowfall.

Sometime later, footsteps on the stairs pulled her out of her quiet thoughts. She turned to see who had come down the stairs. It barely surprised her to see Nixon duck into the kitchen. He didn't see her until he'd turned back to the living room with a full flask.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," he said quietly. But he cracked a small smile.

Alice scoffed. "If this trip has taught me anything, it's that we have equally bad sleep habits."

"I'm hurt." He certainly didn't seem hurt though. Nixon sat back down in his chair. He watched Alice, who stayed quiet wrapped in the blanket.

She watched the snow. Alice tried to empty her mind, to find silence and peace instead of her racing thoughts. The snow had picked up. Large, soft flakes cascaded down and began to pile. Finally, she stood, shaking off the blanket. "I'm going for a smoke." She finished her glass of wine. 

After hurrying upstairs to grab a coat, shoes, and her Lucky Strikes, Alice came back down as quietly as she could. It didn't surprise her that Nixon stood waiting with his coat on. None of the men liked her being outside alone at night back in Georgia since she'd been attacked. It somewhat amused her, but she appreciated their thoughtfulness.

The snow hit her in the face as soon as she walked out the door. A stillness, a sort of impossible silence, had settled on the world. Alice envied it. She lit her cigarette quickly, and offered a light to Nixon. The warm smoke filled her lungs. She sighed and closed her eyes. Flakes fell onto her head, settling in her hair. They stayed quiet for several minutes.

"So, who's Jean-Luc?" Nixon asked. Alice glanced at him in surprise, so he explained. "You muttered about him at the ice rink. You've not talked about him."

"There are many people I don't talk about," she said. As silence fell again, she shuffled her feet. Finally, she spoke up again. "Jean-Luc was a family friend. He and my brothers were good friends, and when the Nazis invaded, he became part of the Parisian Resistance like the rest of us."

"What happened to him?"

Alice sighed. "I don't know. I haven't heard from him since the night before we fled Paris, two years ago."

"You said he was your brothers' friend. What about yours?"

She let out a deep breath of smoke. It wound its way through the air. Alice shuffled her feet again. "He was my friend as well. It was sort of like having another brother. But different. I don't know. I don't know why I haven't heard from him." Alice could feel tears forming. She willed them away, but they didn't stop. "He's probably dead, or imprisoned. He wanted to start an Underground newsletter that could be distributed between the major French cities. There were a few, but they kept being shut down."

When they finished up their cigarettes, they went back inside. The house felt much more comfortable after being exposed to the cold, night air. Alice breathed into her hands in a desperate attempt to warm them.

"If it keeps snowing like this, we may be stuck here today," Nixon said. He had pushed the curtains back and stood staring out at the yard. 

Alice groaned. "Great."

Nixon just laughed at her. A little while later, Alice decided to head back to bed. The cigarette and wine had done the trick, calmed her nerves a bit. She climbed into the warm sheets. The comforter sank over her body, and she buried her face in the pillow. She drifted off in minutes.

When she woke up, the sun shined bright through the curtains of her window. With a small groan, she kicked off the blankets and stood. The floor chilled her feet. Looking out the window, she saw a blanket of white all over the yard and street. Alice grinned.

She slipped on trousers and a button down shirt. Heading down the stairs wearing socks without shoes, she bounced into the kitchen. Dick stood across from Nixon behind the counter, watching the latter cook eggs. She took a deep breath.

"Smells good," she said. "I'm surprised, Nix."

They both looked over at her. The smirk Nixon shot her made her smile. But he just shook his head. "Blanche is terrible at cooking, so my mom taught me instead."

Alice laughed. Then she looked around. "Where's Ron?"

"Checking the weather and enjoying a cigarette." Nixon gestured to the back door. "Speaking of weather, we're stranded here for awhile at least."

"Better than being stranded at Benning," Alice said with a shrug. She moved to stand near Dick. "Any idea when breakfast will be ready?"

"Don't rush perfection, Alice." 

Dick just chuckled and shook his head. "Your compliment already went to his head."

"Well what do you expect from an arrogant rich jerk from Yale?" Alice sent a wink to Nixon as she spoke.

"I didn't expect that to come from you!" He scoffed. "You're pretty well educated yourself."

She let out a small laugh. "Fair. We were well off in Hamburg. But I didn't go to such a prestigious University."

The door to their left swung open. Ron shook the snow off his boots and ran a hand through his hair. His cheeks looked red from the cold. When the door closed behind him, he shifted off his coat and hung it to the side.

"You're finally up," he said. 

She rolled her eyes. "Sorry to keep you all waiting. I have a feeling I'm going to miss Blanche's bed more than I was expecting."

They all laughed. Nixon finished up his eggs and pancakes. Taking plates into the dining room, they devoured their meals. Mostly they ate in silence. Once they were all finished up and had helped clean, Alice slipped on her boots and coat. 

"I'm going to go outside." She took out a cigarette. 

Nixon joined her, and Dick followed them. They stepped into the porch in the back and looked out around them. The snow stood about half a foot tall. A pristine, soft blanket of white covered everything.

Alice lit her cigarette and walked into the snow. She reached down, her bare hands starting to burn from the freezing snow. With a small smile, she moulded the snow into a ball. She looked up. A handful of trees stood about twenty feet away. With a quick snap, she hurled it at the closest tree. It smashed into the closest trunk.

"Nice shot," said Nixon. 

She turned back to them. "Can you believe Shifty is almost better than me? Almost."

Dick chuckled and shook his head. "You still give him a run for his money."

"I blame it on American weapons."

That made them all laugh. Alice smirked. She didn't realize that Nixon had walked in front of her, so when she picked up another snowball and hurled it forward, it struck him in the side of the face.

"Oh my god!" She covered her mouth in shock. But as he turned back to stare at her, she couldn't help but laugh at the snow stuck in his hair. "I'm so sorry." 

Before she could apologize again, he'd thrown a snowball right back at her. Alice yelped and turned away. The snow stuck to her hair as she used her arms to shield her face. After a moment of silence, she removed her hands. Nixon stood smirking. Near the door, Ron watched them with intense interest. Dick seemed amused.

Alice narrowed her eyes and smiled at Nixon. With a quick movement, she grabbed snow and flung at him. "My aim's better than yours." It hit Nixon straight in the face.

"Hey, Dick, if we team up, we can get her." He brushed the snow from his face. Turning to Dick, they watched him suppress a smile. "Come on. If a rich jerk from Yale is better than you at snowball fights, you've got a problem."

"Wait! Ron you're on my team." Alice backed away as Dick joined Nixon in the snow. She glanced at Ron. He shook his head. But Alice was having none of it. "Oh come off it. It's like a training exercise."

Ron rolled his eyes. But slowly he picked his way into the snow. Reaching down, he grabbed a handful of snow and moulded it into a ball. He threw it so fast at Nixon, that no one had time to duck. Alice broke down laughing. But as two snowballs flew their way, she shrieked and dove towards the trees.

She and Ron each stood behind a tree. They packed the snow, Alice losing feeling in her bare hands. She couldn't bend her fingers, but it didn't bother her.

"You go left, take Nixon. I'll get Winters on the right." Ron glance around the massive tree. He ducked away when a snowball crashed into the trunk. "Ready?"

Alice nodded. "Good luck."

Ron counted down from three. They moved from behind their tree trucks at the same time, diving wide towards the other two. Alice flung a snowball straight at Nixon. When he retaliated, she slid to the ground, falling to one knee. Alice threw a second one, and it struck him in the chest.

Diving to the side again, Alice formed another snowball. But a well packed one from Nixon sent her cursing as it hit her left arm. Alice didn't take much time to fling her own back.

Another one smacked her in the chest. Alice fell backwards, landing in the snow. She couldn't stop herself from laughing as Nixon moved over towards her. A particularly hard snowball from Ron sent him spinning around. Alice broke down cackling again.

"Shit, I can't feel my hands," she said through tears of laughter. Alice tried to catch her breath.

Ron walked over. She grabbed his hand, and he heaved her up. Dick was covered in snow, and stood near Nixon shaking his head. Alice grinned. But Ron pushed her towards the door.

He sighed. "Your hands are freezing. You're going to get frostbite." 

She just covered her mouth, trying to hide her smile as she moved past the other two officers. Ron clearly had taken Dick down, and she hadn't don't too terribly with Nixon either. A definite win for them, she decided.

Alice shook the snow off her clothes and hair. Banging her boots against the doorframe, she took them off right inside and set them down. Nixon went and started a fire. Pushing her towards a blanket, Ron forced her to warm her hands. A few minutes later, Alice his her face in the blanket. She couldn't stop laughing. But no one minded.

Author's Note:

Happy New Year! This chapter is a friendly reminder that these guys (and girl) are all under the age of 25! So my age. They were so young!

Hope everyone has a fantastic 2020. Let's have some fun together this year, yeah?