July 25, 1945

Going to bed at 0300 when he had to be up at 0630 had not been Nixon's brightest idea. Why Sink had seen it necessary for him to sit in on a briefing about the Pacific Theater at 0700, he didn't know. All he knew was that Sink had never specified a need for a dress uniform, so he'd rolled into the meeting in basic fatigues. No one said anything. Nixon decided that was good enough.

He hoped Alice got to sleep in. Even if she was more inclined to get up with the sun than him, four hours of sleep wasn't enough for anyone. Besides, he felt a little bad he would probably be the cause of a hangover for her. The case of Vat 69 he'd gotten had been too tempting.

Once 0800 rolled around and the briefing ended, Nixon had planned on going back to bed. But clearly the war had other plans, because not five seconds after he'd walked into the lobby of Hotel Zell and Zielinski flagged him down.

"Sir, do you know where Major Winters is?" he asked.

Nixon sighed. He shook his head. "Not off the top of my head, private. Why?"

"Package came in for him. He'd been asking about it," Zielinski explained.

Looking at the package in the orderly's arms, he frowned. Dick hadn't mentioned anything about expecting a delivery. He shrugged. "Here, I'll track him down."

Zielinski nodded. "Thank you, sir. I'll see if I can't find you something to make it worth it," he added, smirking.

Scoffing, Nixon took the package with a small smile. As the private hurried away, he took a deep breath. So much for going back to bed. He checked his watch. 0810 hours. Dick was probably getting ready for a swim, or down at the lake already. With another yawn, Nixon headed outside.

He found Lipton outside. He'd been talking to Talbert it looked like, but as the sergeant walked away, he just stood quietly. Nixon flagged him down. "Hey, Lip, you seen Major Winters?"

"He's down by the lake, sir." With a tiny smirk, he folded his arms and waited for Nixon to join him. "How was your briefing?"

Nixon rolled his eyes. "About as informative as usual. It told me nothing."

With a small laugh, Lipton nodded. "Well, at least we're in briefings and not battle."

"The one small victory," he agreed.

Leaving Lipton to do whatever it was he was doing, Nixon began the trudging, slow walk down the road to lake level. Lip's words rang in his ears. Briefings, not battles. The briefing on the PTO had told him one thing; they were going to win at some point. Rumors had been flying around intelligence of the paperwork being drawn up by the Allied governments for terms of surrender for Japan. The Potsdam Conference continued to see developments for that for Germany, too.

That meant the return home was one step closer. As excited as he was to finally get to marry Alice, the looming threat of his family's condemnation hung over the joy. It didn't help matters that his family didn't even know Alice existed. He had no interest in showing up only for her to get screamed at by his father.

If he was honest with himself, he didn't want to deal with Stanhope Nixon either. He'd much rather live out the rest of his life with the friends he'd made in the Army. They meant more to him than any blood relation.

Well, except for Blanche. His sister needed him. That's why he stayed. That's why he put up with the drama and the drinking and the yelling of their father. Convincing her to live with their mom in San Francisco had helped some. But based on Blanche's most recent letters, their mom had been more and more upset with their father. The tension couldn't be good for any of them.

Nixon sighed as he finally reached the small path to the lake. It didn't take him long to spot Dick standing there, looking out over the lake. He forced a smirk. "Thought it might be you."

Dick turned to look his way. With a tiny smile, he looked at his watch. "Good morning!"

"I heard reports about a red-headed Eskimo. Figured I should check it out," he teased.

"Come to join me for a morning swim?"

At Dick's smirk, Nixon just started to chuckle. "Yeah. You know me so well," he snarked. Plunking himself down on the stones next to Dick, he held out the package. "Here. That's from Zielinski."

"Oh?" Dick grabbed it from him. Forgetting about the swim for a moment, he turned away from the water and sat down next to Nixon. "Great!"

Nixon watched as he began to unwrap the twine. Once Dick had gotten into the paper wrapping, he narrowed his eyes. "What is that?"

"I ran into the Regimental Photographer. He said he had all these photographs of the 506th, going all the way back to Toccoa." Dick dropped the packaging to the ground and began opening an accordion folder. He smiled. "I traded him for a couple of Lugers."

"That's a bargain."

Dick nodded. He smiled as his gaze fell on a particular photo. He pulled it out and passed it over. Nixon took it gladly. For a moment he stared down at the black and white image, one of himself and Dick three years early, fresh faced Lieutenants not knowing what they were getting themselves into. He couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Then he frowned though.

"You know who's not gonna be in those," he muttered.

Dick paused midway through rifling through the others. After a moment, he turned to his friend. "Yeah."

"It's isn't fair." With a shake of his head, he handed the photo back to Dick. "She did as much as any of us."

"Yeah," he agreed again. "Yeah. I've been thinking about that, though. I may have a way around it, but I need to talk to Christenson first."

"Christenson?" Nixon looked at him in confusion.

Dick smiled. "He's an artist. A darn good one, too."

Breaking out into a small grin, Nixon shook his head. That was one way to get around the no photos rule. As Dick went back to looking through the photos, he sighed. "What do you think you'll do after this?" he ventured.

"Get some breakfast."

Nixon scoffed and rolled his eyes. "No. After after."

It took a moment before Dick turned to him. As usual, Dick's expression betrayed almost nothing. But he put the photos into the folder and nodded. "Well, it's funny you should mention it, 'cause I had a meeting with Colonel Sink."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, discussed the possibility of staying."

Nixon's eyes widened. "In the army?"

"Yeah, yeah. As a career."

"What'd you say?"

He shook his head. Dick turned away for a moment before looking back. "I said I'd think about it." As Nixon stayed quiet, looking away, he frowned. "Have you thought about how you're going to break the news about Alice to your family?"

Nixon shook his head, peeling little bits of bark off a stick he'd picked up. He sighed. "No. No I haven't."

"You gotta tell them before you get home, Nix," Dick reminded him. "It's not fair to Alice not to."

"Yeah, I know that." He shook his head again. "When this war's over, then Alice gets discharged and I can tell them. I'll write a letter or something."

Dick sighed. "Or something?"

"What do you want, Dick?"

"Nothing." Dick let silence fall between them again. But after a moment, he turned to his friend. "Are you planning to live in New Jersey or San Francisco?"

Nixon shook his head. "Definitely New Jersey. I won't put Alice in the San Francisco spotlight. The papers would eat it up if I came home with a girl after the lovely Katherine Page divorced me." He hadn't meant the last bit to sound bitter. Kathy wasn't a bad person, but neither of them had liked being stuck in a marriage that they hadn't chosen. "What do you think about New Jersey?"

"I don't know much about it," Dick began.

But Nixon cut him off. "No, I mean, you could come to New Jersey. There's a company there, in Nixon, New Jersey, called Nixon Nitration Works."

Dick broke into a grin and shook his head. "Sounds picturesque," he teased.

"Yeah. Oddly enough, I know the owners." Nixon started snickering as Dick did the same. He went on. "Yeah, and they're gonna expect me to make something of myself. Thought, you know, maybe we could drag you with us."

After a long pause, Dick looked at him. "Are you offering me a job?"

Nixon snorted. He tossed the stick he'd peeled off into the trees. Turning on his well practiced business attitude, he shrugged. "We'll see how you do in your interview. But you know, a man of your qualifications, I think we'd probably scrape something up commensurate with your current salary level."

"Yeah." Dick nodded. He looked away, but then turned back. "I'll think about it. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah. Just think about it." Then he smirked. "We can take over the business. Get rid of my father."

Dick broke into a laugh. Shaking his head, he stood up. "I didn't say I'd sign up for a coup."

As Dick stood and went to get in the water, Nixon just snickered to himself. He grabbed the accordion folder from the stones. Flipping it open, he started to dig through it. There were plenty of images of Easy, both the enlisted and the officers. A photo from Mackall caught his eye as it was the first one featuring Harry. And soon he'd found Moose, too.

He couldn't help but laugh at a photo of Guarnere and Toye posing with Luz, Muck, Penkala, and Malarkey. As usual, they seemed to be up to no good. A photo from what looked to be Bastogne, given all the snow, featured Malarkey and Muck posing almost like comic book heroes. He had half a mind to pocket the photo for Alice, because she'd either keep it or make sure it got Muck's girlfriend Faye.

The photographer had caught an even more recent one, from Berchtesgaden by the look of it, of Docs Roe and Spina in a couple of cafe chairs, smiling with champagne bottles in hand. They looked happier than he remembered them being since the war had started. But he never found any sign of Alice. If someone had learned about 2nd Battalion just from the photos, it would be like she'd never existed.

With the sound of Dick diving into the water, Nixon just sighed. He placed the photographs back inside the folder. No one would never really know what it was like, not really. Forget about Alice missing, he knew that even just explaining the war would be impossible to those who hadn't experienced it. Selfishly, Nixon hoped that Dick would accept his job offer. He knew he'd be able to get it for him. And having someone else nearby who could understand what they'd gone through once they got to the states, well, maybe that could help them all.

He struggled up from the ground. Folder in hand, Nixon moved down the path towards the dock. With a tiny smile, he went to the end. How many times over the past two and half months had he sat there with Alice or Dick? He didn't know. He'd never gotten into the water though. For a brief moment, he considered it.

Then the less impulsive part of his brain won out. While Dick went off on his swimming adventure, Nix turned back to the photos. For nearly half an hour he rummaged through them, taking time to just look at the faces of the men he'd met, befriended, and in some cases, lost. As Dick slowly came back, he turned his way.

"Towel!" Dick begged. "Towel, towel, towel."

Nixon snickered at him. But he grabbed the towel on the dock beside him and tossed it his way. Then he turned the photograph he'd been looking at towards Dick. "Look at these two kids." He shook his head as he thought about the fresh faced Toccoa versions of himself and Dick Winters. "What the hell happened to them?"

"New Jersey, huh?"

"Yeah." Nixon set the photo down. With a nod, he continued, "Think about it."

But Dick grinned. "Yeah, I am. Are you awake yet?"

"Awake? Time to go to bed." Nixon scoffed.

But he hauled himself to his feet. In a moment of impulse, he moved to the edge of the dock. Why hadn't he jumped in yet? He didn't have an answer. So that's what he did.

When he resurfaced, Dick was staring at him, cracking up. "I cannot believe Alice is marrying you."

Nixon, sputtering the water out of his mouth, weighed down by his gear, just scoffed. He moved back towards the shore. To be honest, he couldn't believe it either. But he certainly wasn't going to complain.