Work Text:
It was the darkest night of the year, but the fireplace in the corner of the pub was warm, keeping the place cozy despite the wind and rain getting in each time the door opened. Sybbie hadn’t minded not getting home for Christmas when she was away for college in America. She had her pick of more distant family members to visit, after all, and all of them were eager to claim her for the holidays.
Now that she had committed to doing her part for the war effort, though, she was stuck up in Scotland, and didn’t want to risk being gone too long, even if, for now, she was only doing clerical work.
The door opened again. She had learned to ignore the comings and goings, and picked at her food and tried to remember where in her book she had left off.
“Excuse me,” a young man said. “You’re Miss Branson, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she replied looking up. “Do I need to get back already?”
“No, no,” he said. “I just recognized you here, and I was wondering if I could sit at this table?”
“Oh!” she replied. “You’re that supply clerk… Lane?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Go ahead, sit down!” she smiled. “I forgot where I was in my book, anyway.”
“I’ve read that one,” he said. “I won’t tell you how it ends.”
“Did you like it, then?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t call it my favorite, but it was quite good, yes.”