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He looked down the barrel of his M1 Garand rifle, lining up the sight with the target at the end of the shooting range. The noise of his fellow paratroopers drifted away to blessed silence. There was something for him when lining up his shot, everything else seemed to fade away. The world narrowed down to himself, his rifle and the target. The faint breeze kissed his cheek and made the ends of his hair sway. Shifting the rifle just slightly, he accommodated for the wind. Finally, he was ready. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, hold, squeeze…
Bang!
"Nice shot, Shifty."
Darrell "Shifty" Powers looked up at the target, an almost perfect bullseye, just a little to the left, then over to his friend standing nearby. "Thanks, Popeye."
"Can we head back now?" Floyd Talbert asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Why? You gotta brush your hair or somethin'?" Popeye Wynn teased.
"That's why I get all the dames at the dances and you don't."
"Come on, lectures will start soon." Smoky Gordon stated good-naturedly, then he pointed at Talbert. "And you owe me a pack of smokes. Told you Shifty could hit the target."
"You said bullseye, not just hit the target."
"Well, he did it."
Talbert grumbled but dug the pack out of his pocket and tossed it to a smirking Gordon.
Bang!
Shifty looked over his shoulder in the direction of the gunshot. He thought they were the only ones there. This was his favorite time to practice since everyone else was either at the mess hall or relaxing in their barracks. Usually he came alone but today Popeye decided to keep him company and then from there Gordon joined them, dragging Talbert along.
To his surprise, he saw you a few lanes over, laying on your belly, rifle set in front of you with your finger still on the trigger. The ODs they gave you were just a one or two sizes too big, thus your sleeves and pant legs were rolled up a few times. Somehow you still pulled the look off well. Instead of looking like a child playing dress up in too large clothes, you looked…. well…. good.
Talbert gave a low whistle. "She's a good shot, I'll give her that."
"Even if she arrived with Hitler's head in a sack, Sobel would still hate her." Gordon stated, watching you closely.
"And Guarnere."
Another shot rang out and Shifty would easily admit...he was impressed. Not because you were a dame and knew how to shoot a gun. His mother would string him up sideways for thinking something like that. No, the distance you were shooting at...most of the soldiers did not even try it. Only himself and a few others shot that far with any accuracy.
And you were dead on.
Finally you stood up, slinging the rifle over your shoulder when you noticed the four men staring at you. He could see the hesitation in your usually guarded expression. You had only joined Easy Company once they arrived in Camp Mackall. Sink thought your connections and resources in Europe would prove invaluable to the paratroopers. Unfortunately, by that point, most of the men had bonded and were not looking to add an outsider...especially a woman. Even worse, you spent most of your time with Intelligence so the men could never get a good read on you.
"Hey, doll," Talbert called, a flirtatious smirk lighting up his face, "you going to be a sniper for Easy?"
You moved a little closer, head held high and shoulders back. “If the need arises...and that's Lieutenant to you, not doll."
"Yes, ma'am."
Your gaze moved his way, eyes assessing with just a look that seemed to see more than they let on. "Are you Private Powers?"
"Ah, everyone calls me Shifty, ma'am."
"You're an excellent shot. If you have the time, I'd appreciate some pointers from you. I'm better with a pistol."
He could feel the blush rising on his cheeks. "It's not a problem, ma'am. I'm… I'm not sure how I can help though. You're an excellent shot yourself."
Your lips turned upward at the corners but you just shrugged. "Thank you, but there's always room to improve."
"How good are you with a pistol?" Talbert asked, gaze skimming over you. "Think you can hit that target?"
The target he pointed at was only about five yards away, any paratrooper was expected to hit at that distance. It was almost an insult to think you could not.
And the look on your face after he asked...you definitely took it as an insult.
Without removing your eyes from Talbert's grinning face, you pulled the pistol off your hip, pointed at the target and unloaded it.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
"Have a good day, boys. Shifty, I hope we can talk soon." You stated, switching from staring down Talbert to a small smile at Shifty. Then you stomped away, reholstering the pistol, rifle still slung over your shoulder.
Shifty's gaze moved to the target and froze. All six shots were in the center of the bullseye...which you had shot at without looking.
"Tab, you better not piss her off. She don't even have to look at you to kill you." Popeye japed.
Shifty's eyes darted back to your retreating form in awe. He had never met a woman like you before. And damn, if watching you shoot did not do something to him.
"Oh, now that's a knockout." He softly said, unable to tear his eyes from you. Never mind him giving you pointers, he wondered what you could teach him!
"Yeah, yeah. She can shoot." Tab muttered, turning to head back into camp.
"You're just mad she showed more interest in Shifty than you." Gordon joked then screeched when Talbert hit him upside his head.
Shifty ignored their taunts as the group walked back towards their barracks. He found you beautiful, any man with eyes could see you were attractive. But watching you shoot, that focused look on your face and the confidence you held...that was going to be a problem for him, he could already tell.
Especially with the way he kept having to readjust his pants so the others would not notice the effect you had on him.
*****
"You're starin' again."
"Mmm?" Shifty blinked, it took a long minute for his friend's words to sink into his brain. When they finally resonated, he practically jumped in his seat, face turning red. "What? No, no, I'm not."
"You're starin' at her like Perconte when he sees garlic bread." Popeye stated, clearly amused if the shit-eating grin said anything.
"What?" Perconte yelled further down the table.
"Nothin', Frank! Wasn't talkin' to you!"
An argument broke out with Perconte demanding to know why Popeye said his name. Shifty only half listened, his gaze drifting back to you across the mess hall. You were facing away from him, talking with some of Easy's officers.
It had been several weeks since the encounter at the shooting range. Since then whenever you were around, he became a bumbling mess. He stumbled over his words, a blush continuously heated his face, a couple times he tripped when you would casually touch his shoulder or arm. Yet the whole time you were kind and patient with him, ignoring his awkwardness. Or at least he hoped so. A few times the two of you would find the other at the range and shoot together, giving one another pointers or creating silly competitions. It was during this that he realized he was falling for you.
Hard.
Like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute and feeling gravity control one's descent as if that person was just along for the ride.
It did not take long for the others to notice how his gaze was always on you when you were nearby. How his brain ceased to function properly as if you were all he could focus on. How he would go out of his way to try and say hi to you every day. The dopey smile on his face when you smiled or laughed, even if you were across the room.
And thus, the teasing began.
One of the more embarrassing moments was when Sobel was leading a strategy practice in the woods, quickly getting everyone killed from his impatience. Shifty, you and two others were forced to be left behind as wounded while everyone else tramped back to the rendezvous point. During those hours of laying in the grass, you and him, lying next to each other, began a quiet, running dialogue telling stories from your lives. Who taught you to shoot, what you were doing before the war, favorite foods, ect.
Once the four of you were relieved and allowed to return to the rendezvous point, you broke away to return to your separate barracks to clean up. When Shifty returned to 3rd Platoon, they immediately teased him about his rumpled clothing, the grass in his hair and if he remembered to wear a condom when you two….
He still blushed thinking about some of the graphic things they said.
Not that his mind had not enjoyed picking up those images and replaying them in his dreams.
*****
He was drunk.
Or at least tipsy.
A part of him knew going out was a bad idea. He never drank. Just did not like the taste of beer. It always sat like lead in his gut. But at the moment, he did not care.
Easy celebrated the fact that they were moving on from Camp Mackall soon. One step closer to be official paratroopers. One step closer to war. Drinks were flowing, some even found local women to dance with in the bar. Glenn Miller crooned over the radio. Sobel was gone on a forced weekend pass. Everyone was in high spirits.
Shifty sat at a table with a few others from Easy, listening to Luz tell some story...and he kept giggling.
Giggling!
Popeye was giving him an amused side-eye as he sipped his own beer. They all knew Shifty did not drink. Sure, he got teased about it but most respected it. For a very specific reason tonight when someone offered him a beer, he took it. And then another. And another.
He felt sort of floaty as he sat there. Everything was funny. His head was spinning slightly but it did not ache. That was good, right? He could still see straight...mostly. He was beginning to see why the others drank often.
When he looked around the bar, he finally spotted what had made him start drinking. You reclined at a table talking to Lt Winters and Lt Nixon, which was unsurprising. What was different was the dress you wore. It molded to you in sinful ways and dear God! he almost swallowed his tongue when you walked into the bar. Between that dress, the red lipstick and victory rolls in your hair, he swore even sunrises were jealous of your beauty. Others definitely noticed, a few buying you drinks but you refused to dance with anyone. A comradery had finally developed between you and the men of Easy, most accepted your presence and the intelligence you provided. Plus, your marksmanship added points and willingness to take the brunt of Sobel's verbal abuse.
You laughed at something Nixon said, head tipped back and a hand on your chest. A sappy smile grew on Shifty's face as he watched your joy radiate. He loved seeing you smile and laugh. Even if he was not the cause of it, he liked you being happy. You had the ability to make even the gloomiest day seem like the peak of summer sunshine.
Excusing yourself from the table, you started towards the outside door. With a bright smile, you redirected slightly and stopped at his table before passing it.
"You boys having a good time?"
A chorus of "yeahs" answered from those around.
"So, when are you going to admit you're in love with me?" Talbert asked, cigarette between his lips. Over the past weeks, he shamelessly flirted with you, even more than Luz but everyone knew it was done jokingly and when superior officers were not around.
"Mmm...the same time Sobel admits he has a hidden stash of pornography in his footlocker."
Malarkey's chair dropped back down onto its four legs as he gaped at you. "And how in the hell would you know that?"
You just winked. "Well, I'm off. Have a good evening, boys."
As you stepped away, Shifty found himself stumbling to his feet to catch up. "Y/n, ma'am."
You stopped, turning to watch him as he approached your side. There was no plan, no rationale in his following you. It was almost instinctual. He wanted to be near you...to hear you laugh again...be graced with one of your brilliant smiles. Now though, as you stood in front of him, waiting for him to speak, his brain sluggishly tried to come up with a reason for him to be near you.
"I'll walk you back if you like. It’s...you...you shouldn't walk 'round alone none." His words tumbled out, somewhat coherently in his rush so he was not just awkwardly staring at you.
You smiled, your face lighting up. "Thanks, Shifty."
A giggle escaped him and he practically felt his heart splatter on the floor at your feet. You were so beautiful and looking at you made him feel warm inside. Or was that the alcohol?
A few wolf whistles follow you both out but he did not pay attention. He floated walking next to you...or felt like he did. He was unsure. His boots caught on a rock and he stumbled faintly but tried to play it off. For some reason the ground swayed just enough under his feet. It reminded him of the floating dock in the next town over from his home, how it was stable yet unsteady. The stars were really pretty tonight. Not as pretty as you. Oops...he stumbled again and a giggle slipped out.
"Are you well?"
"Ah?" He looked over at you, your eyebrows furrowed and eyes scanning him as if for an injury. "Yes, yes." He giggled out. Why would he be injured? No more Currahee!
And then he tripped, almost landing on his face if you had not caught his arm.
"Stop. Stop. Look at me." You moved to stand in front of him, placing your hands on his chest to hold him still.
Your touch sent an electric current through him. It sharpened the warmth of your hands on his chest, how good they felt there. How your breath ghosted over his face as you peered at him. How close your bodies were. No one could ever compare to you. His feelings, his affections, bubbled up inside of him like a champagne bottle after being shaken, threatening to explode.
But he could not say anything. No! It would be wrong. So wrong. Not right. You were a superior officer...and... just incredible.
"Shifty, are you-"
"I like you. " He suddenly blurted out. The cork of the champagne bottle finally popping off.
You tipped your head to the side, watching him. Your hands still on his chest, still so close to him. Your eyes seemed to draw him in and he did not have the strength to escape their current, pulling secrets and truths from him.
Before he could stop it, his mouth disconnected from his brain and went on autopilot. Secrets and thoughts spilled out he had never told anyone. "I think youse beautiful and strong and an amazin' shot...and... I like you but not like...I like Popeye or Gordon or Lipton, no. I like-like you... like I want to kiss you and hear you laugh. But I can't tell you cos youse an officer and you would just laugh at me. I love watchin' you shoot. Rogers says you have a great ass but that don't matter to me cos, well truth is, I think I--"
You slapped a hand over his mouth, clogging the outpouring of words. "Are you drunk?"
He shook his head then changed his mind and nodded. Christ, he hoped he was drunk. Maybe you would ignore his ramblings then. Oh, what had he done? What happened? If he suddenly sprinted away, could he somehow hide from you for the rest of the war and he could pretend this never happened?
"Right. Here's what we are going to do." You tapped his chest with your pointer finger, drawing his attention back to you and ceasing his inner panic. "I am going to walk you to your barracks so you can sleep this off. After everything you just said, if you still feel this way in the morning, I want you to tell me all this when you are sober. Since I like-like you too. If not, then you owe me breakfast in exchange for my silence, jerk, and we'll never speak of this again." You smiled, other hand still on his mouth. "Nod if you agree."
He did not think he ever agreed to anything so quickly in his entire life.
"Good, let's get you back now." You pulled your hand away from his mouth and slipped it around his arm. Together you two walked, arm in arm, towards his barracks.
Shifty still felt like he was floating on air. For more than one reason.
*****
A few hours later, just as the sun was rising, he stood outside the barrack you were staying at. Practically bouncing on his toes, he knocked on the wooden door. Thankfully you stayed there alone since there were no other female paratroopers. You opened the door wearing an oversized shirt and gym shorts, hair amess and a sleepy smile on your face.
"I still think you are the most beautiful woman and I like-like you a lot." He exclaimed without preamble...and then paused. "And I'm sober."
"I like you too, Shifty."
A stupid grin spread across his face, cheeks warming up but he did not mind for once. "Can... can I... hug you, ma'am?"
You laughed lightly before grabbing the front of his ODs and yanking him inside, slamming the door behind him. Before he could utter a word, you pushed him against the closed door and slammed your lips against his, your hands gripping his ODs tightly.
Oh.
Oh!
This was much better than a hug.
Cupping your face, he returned the kiss fervently. He sank into your mouth, loving the feel of you pressed against him, how everything seemed to fade away and your touch and taste were all that mattered. You deepened the kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth. If you did not have him pinned to the door, his knees would have given out. His hands slipped to the back of your head, tangling in your hair. Your tongues fought for dominance, which he would gladly let you win if only you did not stop. But it was when you whispered his name against his mouth that he almost came undone right there.
Finally you broke apart, desperate for air. Both of your chests heaving like you had been sprinting up Currahee. Staring into your face, your pupils blown wide, lips red and swollen; he decided he liked this even more than watching you shoot. Then he dove back into your mouth with unbridled passion, wanting to test how good your accuracy was in other ways.
Yes, this was much better than a hug.