vii. TAKE MY HAND,
                       TAKE MY WHOLE LIFE, TOO

AMOR VINCIT OMNIA
MASTERS OF THE AIR

—————————————-

A DAY LATER, JUNE 30th
THORPE ABBOTTS

COLONEL HARDING'S
HEAD QUARTERS

| | GETTING CALLED INTO THE COLONEL'S OFFICE AFTER A NIGHT OUT, WAS NEVER GOOD. Especially for Celeste as she was the goody two shoes. It felt akin to facing the principal, only with far more power. Yet, 'twas her rather hasty decision last night had brought her to this moment.

The morning started rather abruptly for Celeste with piercing knocks on her door from Rene. But it was not knocks that she heard as her mind played sounds against her—mimicking them into echoes of bombs... Even as she tossed and turned, another knock quickly emerged her from the clutches of sleep.

Frankly, the knocks were better opposed to being woken up by Lady Qin's Mandarin—lord, her shouts were ear piercing. Each syllable hit just the right tone to make anyone cover their ears.

Stirring from her sleep, Celeste scrambled to the form of attention—her disheveled hair escaping its confines, nightclothes clung weakly to her frame. Her hand shaking as she tried to keep it at her forehead. There Rene stood, posed like a mother figured. The young blonde merely shook her head at her friend's antics...

Yet Rene's frantic urgency was unmistakable as she threw open the curtains, flooding the room with blinding sunlight. Celeste winced, muttering a curse under her breath.

"Come on... let's get moving," The young brit's tone was devoid of its usual vivaciousness. With a heavy sigh, Celeste reluctantly forced herself to go to the mirror. Her appearance was a stark contrast to the usual composed self.

But she was moving at the pace of snail—slowly gathering her uniform—her was mind in jumbles. Impatience radiated from Rene, manifesting in her incessant foot-tapping like a mother mad at her child. "Celeste, hurry up. Egan is waiting outside," she pressed.

The fog of sleep lifted from Celeste's mind, just about dropping the hair pins held within her hand— with the events of the previous night crashing down on her like a tidal wave. Memories of harsh words, a sudden punch, the swirling of alcohol, and the unexpected closeness of Egan flooded in.

Celeste groggily began weaving her hands throughout her hair, "Oh lord..." She paused, wincing slightly upon her hand getting stuck in knot—before continuing. "Please tell me that Egan did not take me home. I don't think I can live with him having another thing to hold over me." she emphasized—with the gravity of her words not lost on Rene.

"Oh, come on, Celeste," she protested, her arms dropping to her sides languidly. "Are we going to just ignore what happened last night? I thought it was adorable how Egan swept you off your feet. It was like a scene from a fairytale."

As the brunette adjusted the Bobby pins in the waves of hair, she scoffed lightly. "Fairytales are just that... tales. And no, we are not going to discuss that incident." She pushed another in, letting out a soft owe... "I highly doubt Cinderella was throwing punches before Prince Charming showed up."

Rene teased, "Ah, was that a smile I saw? Looks like someone..." But Celeste quickly reverted to her cool demeanor. "Don't you get any ideas. Helping someone doesn't equate to anything...." the brunette added, " But seriously, why is he here?" Despite her nonchalant denial, there was a hint of uncertainty lurking within her.

"He's here because the new Col. requested his presence. So by goodness of his heart, is offering to give you a ride as well," Rene quipped, but Celeste just rolled her eyes.

Instead, having enough of the small talk, Rene just pushed her on—but upon stepping outside, Celeste struggled to maintain her balance. Of which, prompted Rene to offer a helping hand. As she reached for the backseat, Rene redirected her towards the passenger side—a mischievous grin dancing on her lips. "Trust me, you'll thank me later," she playfully winked.

Gritting her teeth, Celeste shot Rene a look of mild disdain. "I'll remember this..." she muttered in a tone that bordered on both passive-aggressive and begrudgingly amused—her mind already plotting her revenge.

Egan draped his arm over the Willy's steering wheel—the sunlight dappling his chiseled features with a golden glow.
A devilish grin danced upon his lips as he gently teased, "Time's a-wastin', little lady." Each of his words syncopated by the rhythmic snap of his gum.

As Celeste stood before him, Egan couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over him—she had made it home safe. With the sweep of his hand, the major opened the Willy's door—before beckoning her on.

Celeste, her pride slightly bruised and inflated at the same time, released a soft sigh— gingerly settling into the less-than-luxurious jeep. The Willy's reputation preceded it—the rough ride, the minimal suspension.

A sudden jolt in the vehicle caused Celeste's hand to collide with the unyielding dashboard, a sharp gasp escaping her lips in response to the discomfort pulsing through her knuckles.

"You alright?" Egan murmured, concern lacing his tone. Celeste, through gritted teeth, retorted with a forced nonchalance, "Just peachy..."

As the Jeep rumbled to life, the sun casting elongated shadows across the dusty terrain, Celeste wasn't too thrilled when Rene slightly knocked the back of her seat. With the blonde hinting at the conversation. This earned her a glare—But that's all the brunette could do.

The trio embarked on their journey towards the office quarters in silence, with the occasional stolen glances between Egan and Celeste.

She sat with her arms crossed defensively, her expression resembling that of a scolded child. The incident from the previous night lingered unspoken between them, hanging heavily in the air. Punching an RAF officer had certainly not been part of her agenda.

Unexpectedly, Egan had come to her rescue, effortlessly lifting her in his arms like a feather, embodying a modern-day knight. The warmth of his touch against her body had ignited a fluttering sensation deep within her, leaving her squirming in her seat.

The flush of heat that spread across her cheeks only served to betray the emotions bubbling beneath the surface, memories of his closeness playing on a loop in her mind.

Upon arrival at the office, Celeste wasted no time in alighting from the jeep, determined to keep a distance from Egan. Of course, before he could extend a helping hand, leaving him standing there with his hands on his hips. Egan watched her retreating figure with a hint of amusement, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"She'll come around," Rene muttered, casting him a subtle wink—before bidding him farewell. It didn't take him long to catch up with Celeste—even with her barreling forth like an angered bull.

Celeste and Egan were escorted in by Corporal Nathan, —who was poised with eyes straight. But neither of them daring to speak. Nathan remembered Egan's remark—merely relishing in the fact he hadn't won yet.

Upon being granted entry to the quarters, they were meant by an older gentleman and a man clad in an RAF uniform. The sight of the distinctive blue immediately told Celeste's why they were there. A feeling of dread settled in her stomach—she was always the perfect daughter, never a troublemaker.

The older man rose from his seat, extending a welcoming hand towards Celeste—following a warm smile. "Greetings, we are yet to be properly introduced. Colonel Harding." Celeste hesitantly accepted the handshake, replying in kind, "A pleasure to meet you, Chief Leader C. Jefferson." Egan followed suit, engaging in pleasantries with the Colonel before all attention turned to the RAF.

One who had been silently observing, stepped forward— he held a clean shaven face, salt and pepper hair and robin egg blue eyes. Colonel Harding gestured towards him, "You might be wondering about this gentleman." He offered a smile. "Let me introduce Wing Commander Henry Williams, he's in charge of RAF operations here."

Celeste felt a mix of emotions as she stood at the ready, the RAF commander took another step—his outstretched hand conveyed both politeness and authority. His eyes locked onto hers, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. Judging by his gestures and certain features, this man had to be Sammie's father.

Harding then pointed to both to take their seats...as Egan and Celeste made themselves comfortable, he started sloughing to one side as she held herself stout. Noticing his carefree demeanor, she bite at her lower lip—did he not listen to her instructions? why was he doing this?

The brunette took the opportunity to kick at Egan's chair leg. Earning a questioning glance from him. Using her eyes to signal— showing him how she was sitting. With a few glances back and forth, Egan finally got the memo and straightened himself.

But Harding cleared his throat abruptly, gaining their attention. " We all understand the purpose behind our gathering today," he began, his voice firm yet tinged with disappointment. "Recent events involving American and RAF pilots have been brought to our attention."

He gestured abruptly towards Williams, silent command that prompted the retrieval of a file. As the file changed hands and was eventually opened, Celeste could sense the weight settle in the room.

"This concerns the both of you," Harding remarked, his gaze shifting from Celeste to Egan. "It appears that one of you initiated the conflict, while the other aggravated the situation."

Peering over his glasses with a look that demanded accountability, Harding proceeded to read from the report. "At precisely 20:00 hours, a verbal altercation ensued between an American pilot and the RAF officers, culminating in physical violence perpetrated by another American pilot."

Celeste lightly scoffed, turning her head slightly to the side in annoyance. Egan's nonchalant shoulder shrug clashed with the severity of the situation—earning him a pointed stare from Harding. Celeste, maintained a composed facade once more—refusing to engage with Egan's attempts at silent communication.

"This behavior is unacceptable," Harding stated firmly, his eyes flickering towards Williams. "It is unwarranted from either party involved."

"Sir if I may, who exactly said that? Because that's not how I recall it." Celeste retorted, her eyes narrowing—jaw tightening. Harding, using his index finger to gaze over the typed words, " It seems that the young woman who is the bartender, gave the full story."

Now her features completely fell, replacing with a vile bitterness. What was that woman getting at? She was there, saw the whole the thing yet told a different story. Even Egan's demeanor changed, his brows furrowing slightly.

The room fell into a heavy silence, like fog over a lake on a cool morning. Her knocks turned a sharp white as she took a tuff of her trousers. A gentle knock disrupted the quiet, as Corporal Nathan timidly entered.

"Apologies for the interruption, sirs," Nathan spoke softly, a warm smile tugging at his lips. "Would anyone care for some tea or coffee to lighten the mood?"

Colonel Harding raised a questioning brow, before deciding on coffee whereas Williams wanted tea. He then remembered Celeste, gesturing towards her.

She turned towards the young corporal, " Coffee, I will take one—2 sugars and 3 splashes of milk. One for good luck." Corporal Nathan nodded to her before saluting the others.

Harding flapped the paper out before him once more, " Now Major Egan, your involvement doesn't surprise me, but..." Colonel Harding's eyes returned to Celeste, "...I must admit, your presence there does surprise me." He then passed the file to Colonel Williams, who meticulously reviewed each document before closing it—fixing his piercing blue eyes on her.

"In all honesty, your achievements are exemplary," Letting out a deep sigh, Wing commender Williams continued, his voice grave. "But the issue cannot be overlooked."

Celeste maintained her composure, meeting the wing commander piercing gaze without flinching. "Sir, if I may," she began, "The situation with the RAF pilots, your men, they provoked it..."

Celeste found herself wondering about them. Why were they not present to face the consequences? Was it due to their delicate egos bruised by her swift retaliation?

"How is that? Are you say the report is wrong?" Williams questioned as he crossed his arms. "Yes... They made derogatory remarks about women in the military," Celeste explained, her voice seething with anger. "Then questioning the proficiency of my training with our Chinese allies. Such disrespect cannot go unchallenged."

Williams's eyes widened at the revelation, a mixture of surprise and conflict clouding his expression. Celeste leaned in, her hands tightly gripping her thighs. "I trained those men when nobody else would. I mourned their loss and honored their sacrifices..." Her voice trailed off—the weight of her past pains threatening to engulf her.

"They conveniently omitted these crucial details," Egan lamented bitterly—which Celeste flashed him a look of knowing. Leaning slowly back into her seat, revealing that vulnerability Egan had seen, "I dedicated my heart and soul to those men. Have you not done the same to yours?"

Egan found himself feeling for her, whatever was there, was tugged by her quivering voice and trembling form. Was this ... love?... As he felt the urge to console her, to envelop her in his embrace...

Witnessing her turmoil, and without much thought, his hand instinctively reached out towards hers— yet he hesitated. Celeste was a pistol and could go off at anytime.

Egan faced himself to address the Col. Harding. "It was me actually, I started the fight.," he interjected, flashing Celeste a reassuring smile before redirecting his gaze.

Colonel Harding let out a soft chuckle. "Major, the bar was teeming with witnesses who might offer conflicting testimonies."

Egan's smile remained unyielding as he countered, "That may be true, but can we truly rely on the recollections of drunken witnesses?"

Colonel Harding smirked, his eyes creasing at the corners—as he laid the glasses down. His eyes dancing between Celeste and Egan, a knowing expression made across his features. He may have been old, but he knew what this truly was about—why Egan was placing himself first.

This was in short, interrupted as Corp. Nathan as he came back with a tray of coffee's and tea. But as he sat the cup down, Celeste merely stared at the steam dancing up from the liquid. In that moment, she had never related more to something—with her stomach swirling in bitterness.

Egan wasted no time in taking a sip from his drink. With another second ticking by, the colonel nodded, " So it be it major.." He swiftly moved the paper at an angle, taking a pen in one hand—signing the bottom in precise cursive.

This was followed by William adding his signature—before Harding grabbed for Egan's file. In a swift fashion, he tucked it in with everything else he had gotten over the years.

And just as she thought it was over, feeling some relief—Harding then gathered another file—before sliding into view. It was hers—which hinged her breath. Why of all times did he have to do this?

" Now... a new matter.. Major Egan has recommended pulling you off ground duty and reinstating your position in the air."

Harding on that note, reached into her file, retrieving the document bearing Colonel Huglin's signature. The one granting exemption from flying missions over enemy-occupied territories.

There was a moment of hesitation before he pulled out a lighter, clicking it to see the flame dancing with the fan. He hesitates a moment more, before holding it at the end of the paper. His parting words linger in the air, "Jefferson, you have the freedom to charge into the depths of hell."

As the smoke swirled around the room, watching as the fire claimed the document. Celeste stood immediately to her feet, "Thank you sir." She saluted, knowing she was free to be in the air again. Egan followed in suit. Of course, given the dismissal from Col. Harding, Celeste stormed out.

But Egan took one more sip of his coffee, carefully placing it down before jogging after her. Under the bright light of midday, the sounds of the cattle and geese surrounded them. It was pleasant enough when compared to the quarters.

As they slowly strolled in silence toward his jeep, Egan felt a subtle shift snag upon his demeanor. Was it a tinge of fear in his heart? A silent worry that she might put herself in harm's way without him there to protect her? Indeed, he was kicking himself for suggesting her to back into danger.

But instead of getting herself into the jeep, Celeste stopped dead in tracks, before turning on her heel. Looking upon him a mix of urgency and concern—At first Egan had thought he had done something.

"Promise me you'll keep an eye on Jackson up there..." she implored, her voice laced with an undercurrent of fear. Celeste knew another mission was coming up; another one where she wouldn't be up there to help Jackson.

"And Curt, of course... they are definitely lacking in the brains department. But Jackson is like family to me. I won't be there to watch his back as I have before."

Egan rubbed his neck, a gesture of uncertainty marring his usual cocky demeanor . "There's no guarantee—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Celeste cut him off, her hand instinctively reaching out to grasp his. "Please, you arrogant idiot," she pleaded,"Jackson and the boys mean everything to me. I need to trust you to watch over him. To know you've got his backs when I can't."

Egan dropped the cocky facade—"Okay, okay, little lady. consider it done," he said with a faint smile, holding out his pinky. "I pinky promise to watch over them for you."

Celeste's lips turned up in a subtle smile, a hint of warmth returning to Egan's eyes to be grace by her smile once more. But as she wrapped her pinky with his—she found herself glancing at her bruised knuckles. The remnants of a drunken scuffle from the night before—that wave of regret and shame washed over her. Even if the RAF pilots deserved it.

Noticing her pained expression, Egan's voice softened, his concern evident as he reached out his other hand to touch her bruised knuckles. "Are you alright?" he inquired, his gaze filled with genuine care and worry.

Managing a weak nod, Celeste mustered a in response to his concern. His touch grazing over purple and blue was gentle, a stark contrast to the chaos she had unleashed only hours before. "I'll be fine," she whispered—ever the stoic one she was.

Egan hesitated, his own fear evident in his furrowed brow, "Are you sure ?" Surprisingly, instead of her usual sharp retort, Celeste's expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability shimmering in her eyes. "It's okay," a sincerity coloring her words. "I am quite grateful for you taking the blame." She hesitated, biting at her lip, " Even when I may not deserve it."

Egan, taken aback by her unexpected response, acted out in shock—as if he worked for a play. "Well, I'll be damned. Miss little lady here thanking me again..." he exclaims loudly, holding his arms up as if he was praising.

The workers nearby merely flashed him a look of confusion, with Celeste placing her hand to her brows in annoyance. Egan then paused, leaning himself in, "You know, you could pay it back with a kiss or." He spoke softly, a cocky grin gracing his lips. " Giving me your first Name." The major confessed—his gaze filled with playfulness as he traced her features up and down.

Celeste's smile slowly formed into a subtle line—taking her hand away from her head. " Is there a time where you aren't acting overly cocky?" she muttered—-crossing her arms upon her chest. Their eyes locked in a silent dance, words left unspoken yet echoing between them. "Only for certain ones..." he added, raising a brow.

"Don't push it," she replied, cocking her hip to one side. Egan then mimicked her stance, "Why not?" He said, his deepened tone trying to reach her pitch.

With a sharp inhale, Celeste removed herself, before hopping into the jeep, " Chop, Chop driver...,." She mused, " i have mechanical training again."

———————————

A WEEK LATER, JULY 7th
THORPE ABBOTTS

       || THE NEWS ABOUT THE MISSION OVER SUBMARINE PENS IN NORWAY HAD SPREAD LIKE WILDFIRE. IT had arrived in whispers on the wings of the wind - the mission transpired flawlessly. Yet, as with any operation of valor, there were casualties to count. Death, a relentless specter, claimed its toll impartially, without regard for station or bond.

To distract herself, Celeste scoured the rock walls near the tower—a mere stone's throw away from it. As she scraped away the particles, the actions mirroring the internal turmoil clawing at her being. Despite the unease that gnawed, Celeste awaited with bated breath the return of the B-17's.

Rene stood in front of her, her knee high stocking getting caught upon the weeds—her dress skirt dragging upon the dirtied stones. Yet, there she was, her chin leaning in her hands—watching her dear friend fiddling away.

As Celeste's hands delved into the earth, she recalled the bid farewell to Jackson—in a way to calm her nerves. Her words echoing like a worried mother, warning him of impending peril of soaring 25,000 feet above—amidst a storm of enemy fire. But the helpless feeling of not being able to guide him through the thick of battle. Her heart lay heavy with dread.

Yet, in this Celeste did found some comfort in Egan's promise. Despite his lack of personal space, overly confident attitude and womanizer tendencies; she found herself slowly accepting him—even if she tried to ignore it. She couldn't deny the way she felt having him take the blame for her.

That morning, Celeste had found herself drawn toward Egan's plane— remaining at its side, by an invisible force she could not deny. It felt as though her steps were guided by an unspoken intuition. Yet when he asked, she tried to mask her feeling beneath a facade of collective goodwill.

Her farewell was laced with a plea for his safe return, before she quickly took it back—rephrasing to mean the squadron to return. Trying to hide those burning thoughts that raged with her. But Egan furrowed his brows, he knew better. Seeing through her facade, sensing the cracks in her stoic demeanor once more...

Celeste's fingers delicately traced the intricate patterns of the final rock in the collection, her expression a mix of fascination and contentment. It was as if the rock itself held ancient secrets that whispered to her curious soul. Beside her, stood Rene, with a hint of impatience, let out an appreciative sigh.

This dreamy expression earned her an annoyed glance from Celeste, who was engrossed in her study. "What..." Celeste muttered—her gaze flitting back to the rock in front of her.

"Oh, nothing..." Rene replied nonchalantly, observing Celeste's distant expression. But unable to resist poking fun, she continued. "You know, if you devoted as much time to rocks as you do to men, you'd have a collection of them by now..."

Celeste shot her a pointed look, unamused. "Rene, as much as I appreciate your sarcasm, do you have any work? Or maybe some friends, family... or perhaps small poisonous reptiles?" she quipped—-a wry smile playing on her lips.

Rene flashed a mischievous look, undeterred by Celeste's jest. "No, because then I'd miss seeing you rushing out, arms spread wide to meet your major ..." she teased, her tone laced with flirtatious banter.

Celeste's eyes narrowed, a look of mock offense crossing her features. "That's not why I'm here... you know I'm here for Jackson."

The blonde's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Oh, really? That's a clever facade you've crafted. Your covert rendezvous with Jackson when he lands." Celeste's expression hardened. "Your playful banter won't distract me," a touch of exasperation lingered between, "As if your multiple pursuits ended well."

As Rene leaned closer to the rock wall, her gaze meeting Celeste's in a playful challenge, she whispered with a sly grin. "Well, you can't lose it if you don't let it go..." The brunette's expression shifted from shock to feigned innocence as she glared at Rene.

Before Celeste could remake, a thunderous roar split the tranquil sky. Amongst this, the mechanics of Lemmons's crew erupted into frenzied shouts—propelling Celeste into motion. With Rene trailing behind,—she hastened towards the airstrip, heartbeats a frantic cadence in her ears.

Picking a spot next to the tower, a sense of foreboding washed over. A palpable stillness descended upon Celeste when the first bombers came into view—her heart forgetting its rhythm momentarily.

Shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun, she scanned the tails, seeking the familiar insignias that held a piece of her heart. Yet among the squadron's return, two absences loomed large—a silent testament to her unspoken fears.

Jack's voice resonated beside her, methodically counting the planes as they taxied down—coming to a halt in their designated spots. Celeste's gaze flitted between the metal giants, her heart fluttering with each passing moment.

As the last of the roaring engines of the B-17s slowly turned off, Celeste scanned the horizon—her heart sinking at the sight of the empty skies. Egan and Jackson were nowhere to be seen amidst the aircraft.

Her eyes darted back and forth, desperate for any sign of their arrival. A sense of dread crept over her, despite her efforts to remain optimistic.

Then, a sudden cry from Sammie pierced the air, drawing Celeste's attention towards a solitary aircraft approaching. "There he is!" She exclaimed with youthful exuberance, pointing towards the lone plane. "It is him," Celeste whispered—glimmer of hope kindling within her.

A wave of relief washed over her as he disembarked and their eyes met— a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Yet, as she watched him unload his bags, the jubilant feeling that had briefly surfaced now evaporated like mist in the wind.

As she began to the lone air for Jackson, a nagging fear gripped her heart. Had her worst fears come true? Had she lost another dear friend?

Without pausing to dwell on the grim possibilities, she strode purposefully towards Egan, her fists clenched tightly in a mixture of anger and anxiety. The Major's face lit up at the sight of her approaching figure. He started closing the distance between, his heart leaping with anticipation of a hug or kiss. Yet was met with a swift slap across his cheek.

Egan's teasing words rang hollow against Celeste's worry. "Well hello to you too, little lady. I see you're glad to have me back," he quipped, handing a hand to his cheek. But the sharpness in Celeste's eyes did not go unnoticed. Rebuffing his attempt at humor, her voice laced with a mixture of anger and fear.

"No, I most certainly did not miss you," she retorted behind a falseness of her feelings. Celeste's eyes blazed with unshed tears—her voice barely above a whisper as she demanded, "No Where is Jackson?" Her eyes darted around frantically, " You promised to keep him safe!"

Her accusatory tone emphasized by the forceful jab of her finger against his chest—though it felt as light as a feather to him. Despite her small frame, Celeste's words carried immense force. She was definitely a force to be reckoned with.. and Egan liked that about her...

As Celeste attempted to jab Egan once more, she found her hand engulfed by his. His expression softened, a flicker of comfort crossing his eyes. "Temper, temper, little lady." Egan remarked—his gaze searching hers for any hint of emotion.

Struggling to maintain composure, Celeste felt a lump in her throat—her heart quickening at his proximity. Her eyes flickered to his lips before returning to meet his gaze. "I would prefer..." she managed to stammer, her words trailing off in the way his lips curved into a toothy grin—his rather lackluster mustache adding a touch of whimsy.

She felt his hand move around hers, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand gently. Gathering her wits, she thought of Jackson. "So where is he?" she asked again, her voice steady yet betraying a hint of fear.

He slowly withdrew his hand from hers—before running his hand through his unruly locks. "Jackson is okay. They had some issues, but they're safe, thanks to me and Crosby." He then pointed ahead to the young captain of raven hair.

A wave of relief washed over Celeste, the tension releasing from her shoulders. Jackson was alive, that sarcastic bastard was alive. Without hesitation, lead by something she couldn't explain, she embraced him—resting her head against his chest.

Startled, Egan accepted her, his sturdy arms enveloping around her frame—his mind returning from the battle to her presence like a balm to his soul.

"Thank you..." she murmured under her breath, feeling a sense of security in his arms. But when she finally opened her eyes, noticing Rene watching her with a raised brow and then noticing Egan's sheepskin jacket—she abruptly broke away from him. Acting as if the hug was merely a friendly gesture.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Celeste pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear—-attempting to divert her attention elsewhere. But Egan chuckled softly, slinging his gear over his shoulder. "You're welcome. Pinky promises are sacred, never to be broken," he said with a wink, exuding a sense of playful charm.

LATER THAT NIGHT,
MESS HALL PARTY

||| THE NEWS OF THE REMAINING 60 CREW OF ONCE 360, WAS A HIT TO THE 100th. Yet even with this minor setback, there was still need for celebration. As The odds were against them, and many knew they might not experience another day like this. Only 10% of crews sent out ever came back.

The odds were unfavorable, and for most of the men, the horizon seemed grim. Nonetheless, amidst the uncertainty, a glimmer of hope shone through.

Celeste, usually at the receiving end of persistent reminders to attend gatherings, made a spontaneous decision to join the festivities this time. The melodic tunes of the jazz band filled the air, setting the ambiance for the evening. It was whispered that the idea stemmed from Arnie, but the way Rene looked at him suggested her influence in the matter.

Arnie, already stationed at the bar, endeavored to charm his way into another pour of the exquisite Four Roses whiskey. When Celeste settled beside him, his face lit up instantly— gesturing animatedly to grab the bartender's attention.

"See her?" Arnie pointed towards Celeste, prompting a curious look from the young barman.

"Yeah, what about her?" the barman responded with intrigue.

"Well, she happens to be Colonel Jefferson's daughter," Arnie revealed, causing the barman's eyes to widen in astonishment. Hastily, he fetched a bottle from the rear of the bar. Celeste, unamused, rested against the counter, locking eyes with Arnie as he gleefully shifted his weight on his toes.

"Really? I'm quite certain my father wouldn't appreciate me being used as a means to procure drinks," Celeste remarked, her voice tinged with exasperation as she took a sip of her beverage. Arnie shrugged his shoulders, " please...your father knows me."

Celeste let out a soft sigh, her eyes drifting past Arnie's shoulder to spot Cleven making his way towards them. A familiar sight unfolded as he casually propped himself against the counter, the bartender sliding a phone into his outstretched hand.

Engaged in animated conversation, a radiant smile lit up Cleven's face. Though Celeste could only catch fragments of the dialogue, it was evident that Curt was the caller, sharing news about locating an elderly Irish couple for their accommodation.

As Celeste eavesdropped, she scanned the room, instinctively knowing that where Cleven was, Egan wouldn't be too far behind. True to her intuition, a thunderous voice boomed from behind her moments later. "Miss me?" Egan declared triumphantly, a drink in hand and a wide grin plastered across his face. Celeste couldn't resist a teasing remark, "As if," she quipped before taking a sip of her drink.

"Ah, Egan! Curt's on the line. He says he's missing his little spoon," Cleven interjected, prompting Egan to turn towards him with a playful smirk. "Little spoon? I'm the big spoon missing my little one," he chuckled, his gaze locking onto Celeste once more.

Cleven slyly adjusted the phone. "Oh, maybe," Curt's voice filtered through the speaker, interrupted momentarily by Jackson's faint laughter in the background. The snippet of conversation elicited a chuckle from the captain.

"Hey, ask John, why not ask Jefferson if she'll take my place?" Curt suggested playfully, causing Cleven to nervously chuckle..his eyes darting between Egan and Celeste.

Observing Cleven's shifting gaze, Celeste narrowed her eyes, "Wait, he said something, didn't he? Something cheeky?" Cleven remained tight-lipped, only offering a slight shrug. He knew her father's temperament all too well, perhaps even having a hint of fear.

Unfazed, Celeste merely rolled her eyes, "Let him know that when he returns, it's 20 laps," she muttered, grabbing her glass as she walked away.

As the band kicked off once more, signaling in another song—Arnie found Rene in the middle. Celeste sat there taking a sip, her eyes fixated on every step Rene took. Every twirl Arnie spun, and every harmonious note Robert and Frankie sang seemed to weave an intricate tapestry of memories in her mind. As she observed the elegance of their movements, a wistful smile danced on her lips—-reminiscent of the days gone by.

In that fleeting moment, the image of Lady Qin and Shen resurfaced. Their graceful movements emulated the fluidity of waves crashing on the shore—synchronized with the melodious tunes of traditional Chinese strings. Ming, Lady Qin's daughter, had giggled beside her as Celeste shyly joined the dance, allowing the music to guide her body in a mesmerizing rhythm.

Beside them stood the boys from the picture, each smiling along, tapping their feet upon the floor. The circle they formed seemed to encapsulate the essence of joy and camaraderie, their smiles as radiant as the moonlight above. But as the last strains of the Chinese melody dissipated into the night, the familiar sounds of an American jazz band filled the air, signaling a shift in the atmosphere.

The visions of Lady Qin and the American pilots mingled briefly before fading away, like ghosts of the past bidding farewell to a cherished moment. Yet, Celeste found herself inadvertently swaying to the lively jazz beat, her arms swaying gracefully to the side—mouthing in Mandarin she had memorized over the years.

She knew the boys and Lady Qin would want her to dance, to enjoy herself instead of sitting there—wallowing away... That was when Rene grabbed Celeste by the hands, lugging her body up—leading her into the center. Arnie was already there, at ready to perform their old dance.

But atlas, Celeste decided not to, it just wasn't the same without Jackson there. Despite her reluctance, Arnie persisted and initiated their dance, drawing intrigued glances from Egan, who sat nearby with Cleven, tapping his foot to the infectious beat and unconsciously humming along.

"Think they're an item, those two?" Egan murmured, casting a sideways glance at Cleven, who responded with a nonchalant shrug, twirling his toothpick thoughtfully in his mouth. "Nah, just friends," he dismissed, though Egan's persistent doubt lingered like a shadow between them.

"Why not just ask if you're so curious?" Cleven suggested, gently guiding Egan's gaze back towards Celeste and Arnie's animated twirl on the dance floor. "What do you see - love or friendship?"

Before Egan could answer, Celeste's joyous laughter intertwined with Arnie's graceful movements—then accompanied the rhythmic beats mimed by Robert and Frankie. Cleven's assertive voice cut through the moment, "Friendship, plain and simple... you dummy."

Sitting there, Cleven's remark finally settled the debate for Egan—prompting a grin to spread across his face. Unable to contain his exuberance, he rose to his feet—just couldn't refrain from getting up and singing. Despite everyone's protest not too.

As he took the stage, much to the dismay of the conductor, he started up the lyrics to his so—called favorite song. Celeste hadn't been paying attention in the slightly until she heard him.

"Never saw the sun..." his voice had risen slightly at the last syllable—making Celeste turn to face him. He pointed at her with a theatrical flair, his velvet-laced voice carrying the tune effortlessly..." shining so bright..."

The spotlight seemed to shift onto her in that moment, Even if his singing was quite loud and disorienting from the lively band...

As Egan belted out the lyrics, Celeste winced, reminded of the song choice he had made. Cleven and Jack mirrored her discomfort, pretending not to know him, while Arnie and Rene exchanged unimpressed glances. But Egan was undeterred, finishing the song with a flourish, pushing the microphone aside and gesturing with his arms in an ascending and descending motion, akin to a bird taking flight - at least, from Celeste's perspective.

A small smile tugged at Celeste's lips as Egan turned towards her, his face reflecting unadulterated joy, his eyes creased in mirth, and a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face. Ignoring his antics, Celeste raised a quizzical eyebrow, placing her hands on her hips in a stance of bemusement.

Egan, still in high spirits, danced his way towards her, snapping his fingers in sync with the music's rhythm. Celeste watched with a mixture of amusement and incredulity as he circled around her, spinning and twirling before coming to a stop right in front of her once more.

"Take my hand...," he serenaded, extending his hand towards her. Celeste merely cast a fleeting glance at it, her expression revealing a mix of amusement and skepticism.

Rene felt the tension building between Celeste and Egan, a whirlwind of conflicted emotions stirring. Despite the brunettes instincts urging her to move away, she found herself being gently pushed towards Egan by Rene, resulting in her unintentionally grabbing his hand. A part of her wanted to resist this pull, but another side of her was inexplicably drawn towards him.

As Rene prepared to lead them into a dance, just as Egan was about to lean in for a potentially daring move, a lieutenant's voice cut through the charged atmosphere. "Hey! Bike race in the mess hall," he exclaimed, causing Celeste to abruptly turn around, leaving Egan standing there—a mix of disappointment and confusion evident on his face.

Casting a defiant glare towards the source of the interruption, Egan's sight was redirected towards Celeste. "Are you in?" Her eyes glinted with a mischievous spark.

"Hell yes," he replied, his enthusiasm matching her own. The atmosphere in the mess hall shifted as everyone gathered for the impromptu bike race, with a group of men eagerly exchanging bets, money changing hands as they placed their wagers on the potential winners. Some onlookers raised eyebrows in surprise upon noticing Celeste among the contenders, a sign of disbelief and curiosity crossing their faces.

However, it was Robert, Frankie and Arnie that put money up saying she would win. And if she did, everyone would have double their bids. Some of them agreed, figuring this was going to be an easy win...whilst others bluntly refused.

As the commander rounded out the rules and where the race would go, Celeste could feel her heart pounding—much like it did when she took her first flight. That being in an old Bi-plane from ww1.

She stood at the starting line, wiggling her shoulders and body to relieve the pressure and excitement. Egan was to her left whilst Cleven was to the right. Egan exuded a confident aura that only fueled Celeste's determination.

The atmosphere crackled with excitement as the competitors lined up, each eyeing the narrow path littered with chairs and tables. The commanding officer then signaled the start of the race, and with a thunderous cheer, the cyclists took off.

Each of their wheels spinning furiously on the polished floor. Celeste and Egan quickly surged to the front, with Cleven seeming leading the way—their movements fluid and precise.

But Celeste had something they didn't—fighter pilot training. She knew exactly when to brake, when to lean into it and when to add speed. You see, maneuvering the P-40 took along of training, it was a beast of a machine.

It wasn't for the faint of heart. Clocking in at 7,600 pounds, Celeste had to learn the tactics of the Japanese and how they fight since the P-40 weight too much to out turn quick enough.

Soon, as they weaved through the cramped space, ringing in the second round, Celeste fixed it as her time to roll. She could feel the heat of Egan's competitive spirit beside her, spurring her on. With a flicker, she glanced over to him, his face labeled on full confidence of winning.

But Celeste highly doubted that, whilst his burly body would help any other time, it seemed only to slow him down at sharp turns. The twists of the course demanded a lot and it was keeping Egan huffing.

In an odd way, she would be lying if she feel some sort of way seeing him like. "Like what you see??" Egan breathlessly asked, cocking a slight grin. But Celeste smirked, licking her lip before she slammed on her brakes.

Then sharply cutting behind him, before engaging her peddles once more. She was getting closer to the poles, to make it easier. With one flirty look over her shoulder at Egan, she leaned forward and locked in on Cleven.

Cleven didn't even noticed her approaching until she was soaring past him. The cheers of the spectators ringing in her ears—even with some exclaiming how she managed. But as she rounded the corner, she heard Cleven then Egan crashing to the floor along with just about everyone else.

No body wanted to fully admit she had won or else they would be paying double. Celeste watching as Cleven and Egan crawled on the floor, started approaching. A smugness held upon her lips seeing Egan down.

Though defeated, he flashed her a grin, his eyes alight with admiration. "Well done, Jefferson," before extending his hand in sportsmanship. "You truly are a force to be reckoned with."

Celeste, accepting his gesture with grace, felt her heart flutter as Egan's smile transformed into one of mischievousness. In a swift movement, he tugged her down, her body teetering on the brink of landing on either him or Cleven.

"Dammit, Egan!" she exclaimed, struggling to disentangle herself from his grasp. However, he proved to be stronger, enfolding her in his arms and preventing her from escaping his hold. "Oh, no you don't. The victor deserves a congratulatory embrace!" Egan declared, his grip tightening around her.

"Typically, winners don't receive that kind of reward!" she retorted through gritted teeth. The rasp of his beard against her jawline sent a swarm of butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach. Despite her best efforts, a blush crept onto her cheeks.

Just as she wriggled beneath him once more, the dreaded sound that nobody wanted to hear blared through the intercoms—a piercing air raid siren. Egan promptly released her, seizing her hand instinctively and ushering her towards the exit.

As the group converged in the outdoor shelter, all eyes were fixed on the sky, ablaze like a myriad of fireflies. Egan had settled himself in a jeep, attempting to coax Celeste to join him.

Upon taking her seat and observing Cleven finding his place, a faint noise caught Celeste's attention amidst the booming of distant bombs. She tilted her head from side to side, straining to discern the source of the sound. However, the chatter between Cleven and Egan muffled it.

"Can either of you hear that?" she inquired anxiously, scanning her surroundings for the origin of the noise. Egan and Cleven exchanged a meaningful glance before Arnie responded, "Yes, it's the sound of bombs..." Unsatisfied with his response, Celeste retorted, "Not those... something else."

But as she settled back in, trying to watch, the noise came once more—it was like a cry— but not a baby cry. She stood up quickly before hopping off the jeep—determined to found what this was. "What are you doing?" Egan quickly asked but Celeste raised her finger to her lips, hushing him.

Standing there, titling her head, she picked up on the cry again—it sounded like a small animal. This time pinpointing it from behind the pallets. Without thought of getting her uniform dirtied, she got down to her knees and began moving them around....

"Ha!"....

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

———

ITS HERE IM SORRY FOR
TAKING SOOOOOO LLNG TO WRITE 😭😭

Also, i promise to have the first
chapter up for my Cleven  book!!!

PSA: you guys are gonna hate
me next chapter, i apologize in advance 😭

Do we like the longer chapters or shorter???