In Which Harry Taunts Nixon and Webster
The adventures of two intoxicated Ivy Leaguers and their lamentations on the men they yearn after continues. And oh hey, would you look at that? Harry Welsh just showed up.
Title: College Boy Cowardice, Part Two
Author: m_buggie
Fandom: “Band of Brothers”
Pairing: implied unrequited Winnix and Webgott
Word Count: 1,372 for Part Two
Rating: PG
Standard Disclaimer: This is based off performances in the HBO miniseries, not the actual soldiers. The only thing I own is the computer I wrote this on. I make no profit and mean no disrespect so please don’t sue.
~x~x~
It wasn’t long before another moment of silence fell upon Lewis Nixon and David Webster. The front door of the half-bombed bar opened again and more soldiers wandered in, signaling there had been a patrol shift rotation. The volume of the room increased and, while no one was listening to the pair of Easy Company Ivy Leaguers earlier, they now became nearly inaudible in the din.
“Do you think Maj. Winters knows how you feel about him?” Web asked.
Nix shrugged and sighed wearily, not wanting to get into that topic. It was something he’d been losing sleep over for months now.
Webster, fortunately, didn’t pause very long and continued speaking.
“Sometimes I think Joe knows,” he said. “He says things - does things - that go so far beyond the parameters of regular teasing that I can’t come up with any other logical explanation other than he’s flirting with me. I swear there are times when I just want to call him on it. You know? Just grab him by the arm and pull him aside and say, ‘now what the hell do you mean by that, exactly?’ Sometimes I think he does that kind of thing just to get a reaction out of me, like he feels the same way I do but wants me to make the first move.”
“So why don’t you?” Nix asked.
“Why don’t I what?”
“Make the first move.”
Web’s face contorted into an expression that was halfway between a smile and a sneer. “Well hello there, Pot, I’m Kettle. How are you doing?”
Nix shook his head, laughing. “You’re a chickenshit, Web.”
“HA!” Web exclaimed, tossing his head back. “Coming from you, that’s rich.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know that I came pretty damn close one time,” Nix retorted.
“Oh yeah?”
Nix shrugged like it was no big deal. “Yeah.”
With wide eyes and a wider grin, Web leaned forward and rested his folded arms on the table between them. “Well don’t keep me in suspense here, Nix. Spill the beans.”
Nix twisted his mouth a little before finally saying, “I dropped to one knee one night and recited ‘O Captain! My Captain!’”
Webster clapped his hands and laughed so hard that tears formed in the corners of his eyes, which made Nixon particularly grateful that the bar was noisy enough that no one would think to look at what the Easy Company Private was hooting about.
“You were drunk, weren’t you?”
“Three sheets to the wind,” Nix said as he raised his flask. His brow crinkled with amusement. “Of course I was drunk, what kind of a stupid question is that? Do I look like the kind of person who’d do something like that sober?”
“Point taken,” Web snickered. “Funny, I never took you for a Walt Whitman enthusiast.”
Nix rolled his eyes and started fumbling for a cigarette. “Shut up, Web."
“So when did this happen?” Web asked, offering one of his own smokes.
“Oh, it was a while ago,” Nix said, talking around the lit cigarette in his mouth. “Dick was still a Captain at the time, obviously. Yeah, that was during Bastogne.”
Web sighed, lighting a smoke of his own. “And so it all comes back to Bastogne in the end, doesn’t it?”
“Oh for Christ’s sake, not this again,” Nixon sighed with exasperation. “Believe me, Web, that whole business was nothing but a pain in the ass. You were better off not being anywhere near Bastogne or Foy. The Ardennes forest in general was pretty Goddamn miserable.”
“Easy for you to say,” Web countered, frowning. “You spent most of that time huddled up with Winters.”
“That was to conserve body heat and stave off hypothermia.”
“You are so full of shit, Nix.” Webster rolled his eyes before pausing. “Oh, and heads up, Sir, Lieutenant Welsh just walked in.”
“What?” Nix turned around in his chair just in time for Harry Welsh to see him, smile, and stroll over.
“Wow, Nix, I’m shocked to find you here, it’s so out of character of you,” Harry remarked with a bright grin as he pulled up a chair to the small table that Nixon and Webster were seated at. “Hey Web, what’re you doing hanging out with this sorry bastard?”
“My parents were married at the time, thank you,” Nixon quipped in response.
Harry laughed and pulled out his canteen, which was filled with something decidedly not water. “Christ Almighty, just looking at the two of you is depressing. What are you college boys moping about now, huh?”
“We are not ‘moping.’” Webster said the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Oh please.” Harry shook his head, snickering at their expense. “I’ve seen sacks of potatoes with more enthusiasm than the two of you. Besides, I think I know Nix well enough by now to recognize that look.”
Nix raised an eyebrow. “And what look would that be, Harry?” He lifted his flask to his lips.
“Oh, you know, just the usual ‘I got the redheaded blues’ look. It’s one of your most commonly used facial expressions, actually. You know, right behind sarcastically amused, drunk, and hungover.”
Nix choked on the swig of whisky and put his flask down on the table, staring at Harry in abject horror, disbelief, and embarrassment. “What?” he sputtered out.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re so predictable.” He sighed. “But I guess being lovesick will do that to you.”
“You…you know?”
“Of course I know.” Harry shrugged it off. “I’m not blind.”
Nixon wiped his chin with the back of one hand and shot a threatening look in Webster’s direction. “So help me God, if I find out that you…”
“I didn’t say anything!” Web quickly exclaimed. “I swear, I never told anyone.”
“Oh yeah? Well then how the hell does Harry…”
“Nix,” Harry declared, “I hate to break it to you but the only man in Easy who doesn’t know that you’re carrying a torch for Dick is Dick, himself.”
There was a moment of silence, followed by an agonized groan.
Nix covered his face with his hands and muttered something unintelligible which was, more than likely, a long and complex stream of profanities.
“Not that anyone blames you for it,” Harry went on to say, unfazed by his fellow officer’s reaction. “I mean, seriously, Dick’s good-looking. He’s got a great personality. It’s easy to fall for him and I’m pretty sure that by now at least half the company has at some point or another. He’s just that kind of guy. Hell, if I didn’t have Kitty I’d probably be giving you a run for your money in the Winters department.”
Hands still on his face, Nixon’s fingers parted so that he could glare at his friend through the cracks.
“But I have Kitty so I’m not,” Harry reiterated, holding his hands up in the universal gesture of not meaning any harm. “I’m not. Easy there, Nix, don’t chew my head off or anything.”
He took another gulp from his canteen, gritted his teeth as the heat slipped down his throat, and then laughed while Webster sat there gaping and Nixon raked his fingers down his face.
“It’s touching that you get jealous, though,” Harry continued with a mischievous grin. “You get that protective gleam in your eye…”
Nixon said nothing and stared at Harry.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Harry pointed at Nix. “That’s the one. Right there, that’s the gleam I’m talking about. The one that says you’d jump into Berlin with nothing but a trench knife and a helmet if it meant getting the upper hand on the competition. Like I said, it’s touching, though.” He snickered again. “Shows you care.”
With a heavy sigh, Nixon dropped his gaze to the table. “I feel sick.”
“Yeah, lovesick,” Harry laughed.
The two officers looked at each other and Harry raised his canteen while Nixon reached for his flask.
“To lovesick fools,” Harry said by means of a toast.
“I’ll drink to that,” Webster muttered and drank of his beer.
“Which brings us to you,” Harry remarked, turning his scrutinizing eyes to the private. “Who are you sitting here pining after?”
Nixon laughed.
Webster suddenly took on the appearance of a startled deer.
Part One of the fun can be found here.
Title: College Boy Cowardice, Part Two
Author: m_buggie
Fandom: “Band of Brothers”
Pairing: implied unrequited Winnix and Webgott
Word Count: 1,372 for Part Two
Rating: PG
Standard Disclaimer: This is based off performances in the HBO miniseries, not the actual soldiers. The only thing I own is the computer I wrote this on. I make no profit and mean no disrespect so please don’t sue.
~x~x~
It wasn’t long before another moment of silence fell upon Lewis Nixon and David Webster. The front door of the half-bombed bar opened again and more soldiers wandered in, signaling there had been a patrol shift rotation. The volume of the room increased and, while no one was listening to the pair of Easy Company Ivy Leaguers earlier, they now became nearly inaudible in the din.
“Do you think Maj. Winters knows how you feel about him?” Web asked.
Nix shrugged and sighed wearily, not wanting to get into that topic. It was something he’d been losing sleep over for months now.
Webster, fortunately, didn’t pause very long and continued speaking.
“Sometimes I think Joe knows,” he said. “He says things - does things - that go so far beyond the parameters of regular teasing that I can’t come up with any other logical explanation other than he’s flirting with me. I swear there are times when I just want to call him on it. You know? Just grab him by the arm and pull him aside and say, ‘now what the hell do you mean by that, exactly?’ Sometimes I think he does that kind of thing just to get a reaction out of me, like he feels the same way I do but wants me to make the first move.”
“So why don’t you?” Nix asked.
“Why don’t I what?”
“Make the first move.”
Web’s face contorted into an expression that was halfway between a smile and a sneer. “Well hello there, Pot, I’m Kettle. How are you doing?”
Nix shook his head, laughing. “You’re a chickenshit, Web.”
“HA!” Web exclaimed, tossing his head back. “Coming from you, that’s rich.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know that I came pretty damn close one time,” Nix retorted.
“Oh yeah?”
Nix shrugged like it was no big deal. “Yeah.”
With wide eyes and a wider grin, Web leaned forward and rested his folded arms on the table between them. “Well don’t keep me in suspense here, Nix. Spill the beans.”
Nix twisted his mouth a little before finally saying, “I dropped to one knee one night and recited ‘O Captain! My Captain!’”
Webster clapped his hands and laughed so hard that tears formed in the corners of his eyes, which made Nixon particularly grateful that the bar was noisy enough that no one would think to look at what the Easy Company Private was hooting about.
“You were drunk, weren’t you?”
“Three sheets to the wind,” Nix said as he raised his flask. His brow crinkled with amusement. “Of course I was drunk, what kind of a stupid question is that? Do I look like the kind of person who’d do something like that sober?”
“Point taken,” Web snickered. “Funny, I never took you for a Walt Whitman enthusiast.”
Nix rolled his eyes and started fumbling for a cigarette. “Shut up, Web."
“So when did this happen?” Web asked, offering one of his own smokes.
“Oh, it was a while ago,” Nix said, talking around the lit cigarette in his mouth. “Dick was still a Captain at the time, obviously. Yeah, that was during Bastogne.”
Web sighed, lighting a smoke of his own. “And so it all comes back to Bastogne in the end, doesn’t it?”
“Oh for Christ’s sake, not this again,” Nixon sighed with exasperation. “Believe me, Web, that whole business was nothing but a pain in the ass. You were better off not being anywhere near Bastogne or Foy. The Ardennes forest in general was pretty Goddamn miserable.”
“Easy for you to say,” Web countered, frowning. “You spent most of that time huddled up with Winters.”
“That was to conserve body heat and stave off hypothermia.”
“You are so full of shit, Nix.” Webster rolled his eyes before pausing. “Oh, and heads up, Sir, Lieutenant Welsh just walked in.”
“What?” Nix turned around in his chair just in time for Harry Welsh to see him, smile, and stroll over.
“Wow, Nix, I’m shocked to find you here, it’s so out of character of you,” Harry remarked with a bright grin as he pulled up a chair to the small table that Nixon and Webster were seated at. “Hey Web, what’re you doing hanging out with this sorry bastard?”
“My parents were married at the time, thank you,” Nixon quipped in response.
Harry laughed and pulled out his canteen, which was filled with something decidedly not water. “Christ Almighty, just looking at the two of you is depressing. What are you college boys moping about now, huh?”
“We are not ‘moping.’” Webster said the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Oh please.” Harry shook his head, snickering at their expense. “I’ve seen sacks of potatoes with more enthusiasm than the two of you. Besides, I think I know Nix well enough by now to recognize that look.”
Nix raised an eyebrow. “And what look would that be, Harry?” He lifted his flask to his lips.
“Oh, you know, just the usual ‘I got the redheaded blues’ look. It’s one of your most commonly used facial expressions, actually. You know, right behind sarcastically amused, drunk, and hungover.”
Nix choked on the swig of whisky and put his flask down on the table, staring at Harry in abject horror, disbelief, and embarrassment. “What?” he sputtered out.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re so predictable.” He sighed. “But I guess being lovesick will do that to you.”
“You…you know?”
“Of course I know.” Harry shrugged it off. “I’m not blind.”
Nixon wiped his chin with the back of one hand and shot a threatening look in Webster’s direction. “So help me God, if I find out that you…”
“I didn’t say anything!” Web quickly exclaimed. “I swear, I never told anyone.”
“Oh yeah? Well then how the hell does Harry…”
“Nix,” Harry declared, “I hate to break it to you but the only man in Easy who doesn’t know that you’re carrying a torch for Dick is Dick, himself.”
There was a moment of silence, followed by an agonized groan.
Nix covered his face with his hands and muttered something unintelligible which was, more than likely, a long and complex stream of profanities.
“Not that anyone blames you for it,” Harry went on to say, unfazed by his fellow officer’s reaction. “I mean, seriously, Dick’s good-looking. He’s got a great personality. It’s easy to fall for him and I’m pretty sure that by now at least half the company has at some point or another. He’s just that kind of guy. Hell, if I didn’t have Kitty I’d probably be giving you a run for your money in the Winters department.”
Hands still on his face, Nixon’s fingers parted so that he could glare at his friend through the cracks.
“But I have Kitty so I’m not,” Harry reiterated, holding his hands up in the universal gesture of not meaning any harm. “I’m not. Easy there, Nix, don’t chew my head off or anything.”
He took another gulp from his canteen, gritted his teeth as the heat slipped down his throat, and then laughed while Webster sat there gaping and Nixon raked his fingers down his face.
“It’s touching that you get jealous, though,” Harry continued with a mischievous grin. “You get that protective gleam in your eye…”
Nixon said nothing and stared at Harry.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Harry pointed at Nix. “That’s the one. Right there, that’s the gleam I’m talking about. The one that says you’d jump into Berlin with nothing but a trench knife and a helmet if it meant getting the upper hand on the competition. Like I said, it’s touching, though.” He snickered again. “Shows you care.”
With a heavy sigh, Nixon dropped his gaze to the table. “I feel sick.”
“Yeah, lovesick,” Harry laughed.
The two officers looked at each other and Harry raised his canteen while Nixon reached for his flask.
“To lovesick fools,” Harry said by means of a toast.
“I’ll drink to that,” Webster muttered and drank of his beer.
“Which brings us to you,” Harry remarked, turning his scrutinizing eyes to the private. “Who are you sitting here pining after?”
Nixon laughed.
Webster suddenly took on the appearance of a startled deer.
Part One of the fun can be found here.