Harry the Interrogator
Well, we're finally getting close to the end of the college boys story. There's only one chapter left after this one, which means I'm a step away from actually wrapping up one of my little sagas. What a novel concept. *chuckle* Oh well.
Title: College Boy Cowardice, Part Three
Author: m_buggie
Fandom: “Band of Brothers”
Pairing: implied unrequited Winnix and Webgott, possible Roe/Heffron if you squint and tilt your head just slightly to the left
Word Count: 1,316 for Part Three
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~
David Webster got up from the table twice in his efforts to avoid Harry Welsh’s inquiries but it was only a matter of time before he ran out of ways to avoid the Lieutenant. After all, his only other option was to leave the bar altogether and head back to where Easy Company was being boarded for the night and that was something Webster didn’t want to face just yet. Not yet. He’d had a little more than usual to drink already and just the thought of having to bed down across from Liebgott was more than he could handle at the moment.
There was only so much staring at Liebgott’s face, lips slightly parted and brow relaxed in slumber, that Webster could take before it stared to feel like torture.
“Well, it can’t be Dick that you’re lusting after,” Harry reasoned, “because if it was then Nix here wouldn’t be on such friendly terms with you.”
“Jesus, Harry, I’m not that bad,” Lewis Nixon muttered.
“Oh yes, you are,” Harry countered. “Hell, I remember the last time you found out someone else was sniffing around Dick’s heels.”
“What?”
“And you know exactly who I’m talking about so don’t even try to deny it.”
Nixon folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, regarding Harry with a flat expression.
Harry’s only response was to continue to smile knowingly.
Webster glanced between the suddenly silent pair of officers for a long moment before curiosity got the better of him and he tentatively inquired, “Who’re you talking about?”
Nixon shrugged, trying to gloss over the issue. “That was different. He was a jerk to begin with.”
Harry shook his head. “That’s not what you said at first.”
“Yeah, until he proved himself to be an incompetent field commander.”
“No, you didn’t have a problem with him until you found out he had eyes for a certain Mr. Winters.”
“Who are you talking about?” Web asked, more adamantly than before.
“Sobel,” Harry announced, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“Oh.”
Nix sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Can we please change the subject?”
“Gladly, because we already know who you’re hot to trot for and there’s no fun in flogging a dead horse,” Harry told Nixon. He then promptly zeroed in on Webster and began staring at the Private with an impish grin. “The real question is who are you crying yourself to sleep over?”
“I don’t ‘cry’ myself to sleep,” was Web’s retort.
“Fine, then who are you composing flowery sonnets of unrequited adoration for?”
“Nobody.”
“Don’t ever play poker, Web, because you’re horrible at bluffing,” Harry chuckled. “There’s someone, I know there is. There has to be.”
Webster shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “What makes you say that, Lt. Welsh?”
“Because I just know these things.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. That, and you’ve got the same sorry hang-dog look on your face that he does.” Harry jerked his thumb at Nix for good measure.
“Gee, thanks, Harry. I really appreciate that,” Nixon remarked.
“Any time, Nix.”
Webster laughed nervously.
“So who is it, Web?” Harry pressed. “Who could possibly be interesting enough to catch your eye?”
Web sighed and shook his head. “You can ask me all the questions you want, Sir, but it’s not going to get you anywhere.”
“You’re going to regret saying that, soldier.” Harry drank from his canteen again, licking his lips of something which was decidedly not water.
Harry made for an effective interrogator, as it turned out, and Wed did indeed begin to regret his words. The lieutenant had a way of asking questions without making it seem like that was what he was doing. It was that charm of his, disarming and amiable and neatly concealing how clever and sneaky Harry was capable of being.
“You,” Nixon said to Harry, wagging his finger at the other officer, “you are more fiendish and cunning than I’d ever guessed. We should have you interrogate the German prisoners, for Christ’s sake.”
Web may have been tipsy but he had enough wits about him to recognize that while Harry was joking and telling stories he was also gathering evidence like a Pinkerton detective. He did his best not to let anything slip but it didn’t help to have Nixon on hand, egging Harry on now that he was no longer the one in the hot seat. Web even called him on it but Nix just laughed and quipped, “Better you than me, pal.”
It had reached the point where Web was about to say something underhanded about Doc Roe and Babe in an effort to deflect attention away from himself when Harry uttered something that caught him completely off guard.
“Jeez, you’re more evasive than Joe.”
Webster fell silent upon hearing that, mouth still half-open and hand poised in mid-gesture. He frowned and tilted his head to one side. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah, there must be some kind of a fool-for-love bug going around because Liebgott’s just as bad as the two of you,” Harry casually remarked. “I never thought I’d see such an epidemic of lovesickness in the middle of a war.”
There was a peculiar corkscrew sensation in Web’s gut as the words sank in. Liebgott…lovesick for someone? The cogs and gears in Web’s mind immediately started turning as to the identity of said object of affection.
Was it him? While he may have had hopes about that, Web was a pragmatist and forced himself to confront the idea that such might not be the case. But if not him, then who was it? Jealousy flared. Web wasn’t sure if he could deal with Liebgott liking someone else in that way, not when his own heart ached in a manner worthy of an Emily Dickinson poem.
He cleared his throat, sat up in his chair, and tried to ignore the pointed look that Nixon was giving him.
“Do you really think Joe is smitten with someone?” Web asked as nonchalantly as he could manage.
“Smitten - I like that word,” Harry laughed.
Nix made some joke about the merits of a Harvard education at Web’s expense but he was too occupied with thoughts of Liebgott to bother making the usual crack about Yale in retaliation.
“You know what I mean,” Web sighed.
“Of course I do,” Harry replied cheerfully.
“Well, I mean, how can you tell?” Web pressed. “What makes you so sure?”
“You mean aside from the fact that he let it slip the other day and gets all surly when I ask him about it now?” Harry simpered. “Let’s just say I have a knack for finding these things out.”
“Germans,” Nix declared. “We need to get you interrogating Germans.”
“Who is it?” Web asked, a demanding edge stealing into his tone.
“What’s it to you?” Harry countered.
“Nothing, I was just wondering.”
“Like I said before, Web, don’t ever play poker. You’re horrible at bluffing.”
Nixon smirked and looked away while Harry folded his arms across his chest and regarded Webster with haughty amusement. Web suddenly felt quite self-conscious but it was too late now so he ploughed through.
“Come on, Harry, who is it? Who’s got Joe tied up in knots?” he continued, covering his unease with joviality. “You must know.”
Harry shook his head and his expression softened with compassion. “I know you just laid all your cards out on the table, Private. You’re writing sonnets about Joe Liebgott, aren’t you?”
“I don’t write sonnets,” Web responded. The words sounded weak even to his own ears.
“But if you did…”
Harry didn’t even need to finish his sentence, the look on Webster’s face was enough to tell the Lieutenant that if the Harvard man did write sonnets they would’ve been about one Joseph Liebgott.
“And there it is and here we all are,” Harry remarked, raising his canteen in toast. “Three men in love.”
Part One of the fun can be found here.
Part Two can be located here.
Title: College Boy Cowardice, Part Three
Author: m_buggie
Fandom: “Band of Brothers”
Pairing: implied unrequited Winnix and Webgott, possible Roe/Heffron if you squint and tilt your head just slightly to the left
Word Count: 1,316 for Part Three
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~
David Webster got up from the table twice in his efforts to avoid Harry Welsh’s inquiries but it was only a matter of time before he ran out of ways to avoid the Lieutenant. After all, his only other option was to leave the bar altogether and head back to where Easy Company was being boarded for the night and that was something Webster didn’t want to face just yet. Not yet. He’d had a little more than usual to drink already and just the thought of having to bed down across from Liebgott was more than he could handle at the moment.
There was only so much staring at Liebgott’s face, lips slightly parted and brow relaxed in slumber, that Webster could take before it stared to feel like torture.
“Well, it can’t be Dick that you’re lusting after,” Harry reasoned, “because if it was then Nix here wouldn’t be on such friendly terms with you.”
“Jesus, Harry, I’m not that bad,” Lewis Nixon muttered.
“Oh yes, you are,” Harry countered. “Hell, I remember the last time you found out someone else was sniffing around Dick’s heels.”
“What?”
“And you know exactly who I’m talking about so don’t even try to deny it.”
Nixon folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, regarding Harry with a flat expression.
Harry’s only response was to continue to smile knowingly.
Webster glanced between the suddenly silent pair of officers for a long moment before curiosity got the better of him and he tentatively inquired, “Who’re you talking about?”
Nixon shrugged, trying to gloss over the issue. “That was different. He was a jerk to begin with.”
Harry shook his head. “That’s not what you said at first.”
“Yeah, until he proved himself to be an incompetent field commander.”
“No, you didn’t have a problem with him until you found out he had eyes for a certain Mr. Winters.”
“Who are you talking about?” Web asked, more adamantly than before.
“Sobel,” Harry announced, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“Oh.”
Nix sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Can we please change the subject?”
“Gladly, because we already know who you’re hot to trot for and there’s no fun in flogging a dead horse,” Harry told Nixon. He then promptly zeroed in on Webster and began staring at the Private with an impish grin. “The real question is who are you crying yourself to sleep over?”
“I don’t ‘cry’ myself to sleep,” was Web’s retort.
“Fine, then who are you composing flowery sonnets of unrequited adoration for?”
“Nobody.”
“Don’t ever play poker, Web, because you’re horrible at bluffing,” Harry chuckled. “There’s someone, I know there is. There has to be.”
Webster shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “What makes you say that, Lt. Welsh?”
“Because I just know these things.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. That, and you’ve got the same sorry hang-dog look on your face that he does.” Harry jerked his thumb at Nix for good measure.
“Gee, thanks, Harry. I really appreciate that,” Nixon remarked.
“Any time, Nix.”
Webster laughed nervously.
“So who is it, Web?” Harry pressed. “Who could possibly be interesting enough to catch your eye?”
Web sighed and shook his head. “You can ask me all the questions you want, Sir, but it’s not going to get you anywhere.”
“You’re going to regret saying that, soldier.” Harry drank from his canteen again, licking his lips of something which was decidedly not water.
Harry made for an effective interrogator, as it turned out, and Wed did indeed begin to regret his words. The lieutenant had a way of asking questions without making it seem like that was what he was doing. It was that charm of his, disarming and amiable and neatly concealing how clever and sneaky Harry was capable of being.
“You,” Nixon said to Harry, wagging his finger at the other officer, “you are more fiendish and cunning than I’d ever guessed. We should have you interrogate the German prisoners, for Christ’s sake.”
Web may have been tipsy but he had enough wits about him to recognize that while Harry was joking and telling stories he was also gathering evidence like a Pinkerton detective. He did his best not to let anything slip but it didn’t help to have Nixon on hand, egging Harry on now that he was no longer the one in the hot seat. Web even called him on it but Nix just laughed and quipped, “Better you than me, pal.”
It had reached the point where Web was about to say something underhanded about Doc Roe and Babe in an effort to deflect attention away from himself when Harry uttered something that caught him completely off guard.
“Jeez, you’re more evasive than Joe.”
Webster fell silent upon hearing that, mouth still half-open and hand poised in mid-gesture. He frowned and tilted his head to one side. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah, there must be some kind of a fool-for-love bug going around because Liebgott’s just as bad as the two of you,” Harry casually remarked. “I never thought I’d see such an epidemic of lovesickness in the middle of a war.”
There was a peculiar corkscrew sensation in Web’s gut as the words sank in. Liebgott…lovesick for someone? The cogs and gears in Web’s mind immediately started turning as to the identity of said object of affection.
Was it him? While he may have had hopes about that, Web was a pragmatist and forced himself to confront the idea that such might not be the case. But if not him, then who was it? Jealousy flared. Web wasn’t sure if he could deal with Liebgott liking someone else in that way, not when his own heart ached in a manner worthy of an Emily Dickinson poem.
He cleared his throat, sat up in his chair, and tried to ignore the pointed look that Nixon was giving him.
“Do you really think Joe is smitten with someone?” Web asked as nonchalantly as he could manage.
“Smitten - I like that word,” Harry laughed.
Nix made some joke about the merits of a Harvard education at Web’s expense but he was too occupied with thoughts of Liebgott to bother making the usual crack about Yale in retaliation.
“You know what I mean,” Web sighed.
“Of course I do,” Harry replied cheerfully.
“Well, I mean, how can you tell?” Web pressed. “What makes you so sure?”
“You mean aside from the fact that he let it slip the other day and gets all surly when I ask him about it now?” Harry simpered. “Let’s just say I have a knack for finding these things out.”
“Germans,” Nix declared. “We need to get you interrogating Germans.”
“Who is it?” Web asked, a demanding edge stealing into his tone.
“What’s it to you?” Harry countered.
“Nothing, I was just wondering.”
“Like I said before, Web, don’t ever play poker. You’re horrible at bluffing.”
Nixon smirked and looked away while Harry folded his arms across his chest and regarded Webster with haughty amusement. Web suddenly felt quite self-conscious but it was too late now so he ploughed through.
“Come on, Harry, who is it? Who’s got Joe tied up in knots?” he continued, covering his unease with joviality. “You must know.”
Harry shook his head and his expression softened with compassion. “I know you just laid all your cards out on the table, Private. You’re writing sonnets about Joe Liebgott, aren’t you?”
“I don’t write sonnets,” Web responded. The words sounded weak even to his own ears.
“But if you did…”
Harry didn’t even need to finish his sentence, the look on Webster’s face was enough to tell the Lieutenant that if the Harvard man did write sonnets they would’ve been about one Joseph Liebgott.
“And there it is and here we all are,” Harry remarked, raising his canteen in toast. “Three men in love.”
Part One of the fun can be found here.
Part Two can be located here.