Inclinations

Who: Amelie and Roy
Where: Southern France
When: years ago

Roy had very little in the way of 'spare time' and by 'spare time' what was meant was he had to wait around for a jeep for a little while, as opposed to his actually having time for himself. He was sticking close to where he was meant to be, but not exactly where. He'd be told, he knew. Plus, standing around doing nothing wasn't really in his nature. Not in the middle of a war zone in a town that had been bombed pretty badly. There were still a lot of standing structures, but a lot of gutted ones as well. It was always odd, walking through the place, seeing just how random bombings seemed. Why did that building get hit and the one next to it was missed?

It wasn't constructive to really think about it, but he couldn't help it as he walked through the streets, trying to get to the building they'd set up the clinic in. He had a few things for it, some odds and ends he'd managed to scrape together, along with some rations he'd skipped himself so he could give them to a certain someone. He had something else for her today too, something that felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. It was one of the few things he'd brought with him from home, and it was a very battered book by now. To boot it was a children's book, one that had been one of the little one's back home. One of the little ones who'd not survived it when the flu rushed through the family and took a whole lot of them. So he'd kept it, a little reminder of why he'd signed up to start with.

Only now he was giving it to her. He'd found a few flowers here and there along the way during battles, and whenever he had, he'd pressed them between the pages. Some guys kept tins of earth, some took other bits and pieces from the different places they'd been. He'd kept flowers or leaves, and stuck them in Ozma of Oz. He'd looked to see if he could get her a fresh flower, but he hadn't been able to find anything. So, he'd decided, after a lot of hard thinking about it, to give her the book.

Only now that he'd decided and was on his way to see her, he wasn't entirely positive what the living hell he'd been thinking. It was a stupid idea at best. She was going to stare at him, and think it was silly. Plus, he doubted he was the only soldier who ever gave her anything. He couldn't possibly be special just because she remembered his name and rank. Just because she smiled when she saw him coming--she smiled at everyone. It was her way. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. It wasn't like he was special.

And yet there he was, there to bring her little gifts, and to spend a short while with her. He figured he had at least the better part of an hour. Not long, but maybe long enough to talk to her. It was stupid of him on a number of levels. He just couldn't actually stop himself from thinking about her when he wasn’t mid-battle, or wanting to see her again. Giving himself a second, he drew a deep breath, called himself an idiot yet again, then ducked into the clinic, glancing around for her. "Amelie?"

She almost could’ve passed for someone untouched by the war at first glance, with a dress dark enough to hide most of the grime. Hair wound tight in a bun, sleeves unrolled now that there was no field dressing to do, and smelling faintly of a jasmine perfume, Amelie had been sitting with a small child for a short time now. The boy was a local doctor’s son, and the time Amelie spent watching him was a guarantee of a cigarette or drink for his father, or even a snatch of sleep when it was possible.

It hadn’t been a good day, not that it ever was in this situation, but you wouldn’tve known it to look at her sitting there, watching the doctor’s son feign sleep and peek at her from one half-lidded eye. Smiling lightly at catching him in the ruse, she glanced up when her name was called in an accent that was very American.

It wasn’t that Roy said it wrong, either, but there was a lilt to it with a native French speaker that was missing with Roy. More often than not, thinking on that drew a smile from her for some reason, and this moment definitely fell in the former category. “Sergeant Grady,” she greeted warmly, sitting up straighter and giving a little wave for him to join her. Aside from the times when he’d been injured, the times when Amelie was strictly doing her job, he’d never been a worrying presence here.

And that he’d been a frequent one, even uninjured, had never really dawned on Amelie; she just knew that she enjoyed his visits when they happened, and hoped each one wouldn’t be the last when it ended. Too many of these young men found their way to the tents and dilapidated buildings that served as a clinic, Roy didn’t need to be one of them. “You are well, I hope?” she asked as she stood to meet him, pointing a warning finger down at the doctor’s son as the boy peeked again.

He smiled at her and ducked his head slightly. Something about her always made him feel as awkward as a kid, but he couldn't help that. "Ma'am." he greeted. "I'm doing fine. Yourself?" he asked, glancing up a little better to look her over, as he always did. A lot of these places got hit because they were aiding the wounded, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that some day she'd not be around when he got there. That, and he could easily get shot down himself somewhere. It wasn't like it hadn't been a close call now and then already.

“As well as can be,” Amelie assured him, dark eyes twinkling with a bit of mirth over the way Roy glanced down and back up again. She was never not entertained by being called ma’am, or by the way he and some of the other soldiers treated her as if she were some highborn lady. Maybe it was her heritage, or maybe just the rarity of a woman around here, but whatever it was? She wasn’t complaining over the treatment, just letting it make her smile over how even men at war could find etiquette at the oddest times.

“Please sit,” she went on, nodding to one of the improvised seats they tended towards here, overturned barrels and stacked crates for the common areas. “Dr. Leveaux should be returning shortly, and I would like some fresh air. If you were... inclined to join me,” Amelie requested, struggling to find the right word in English for a moment.

He was very inclined. But he bit back that sort of enthusiasm, knowing it was at the very least slightly inappropriate. He reminded himself yet again that he was likely no different from a hundred other soldiers who crossed her path. He'd heard some of the other guys mention her, even if it was just to comment on the woman's beauty. And possibly some other things, but Roy was a little too respectful of her to engage in that conversation. Even when he wasn't in her immediate presence. "Certainly." he said. "I..." he paused, and pulled the satchel he had over his shoulder off, then held it out towards her. "Some supplies." he said, sort of abandoning 'I brought you something' in favor of being more technical. He almost felt that it would be too forward to take the credit.

Even if it wasn’t the first time this happened, it was still a welcome surprise for Amelie. It showed as she reached for the bag, Roy’s words sinking in as her hands closed on it, and all at once her eyes went wide as she just held the bag there for a moment. Most often, the soldiers would donate what they could when the clinic was actively sewing their ranks back up, but Roy? Well, Roy had done this three times now, never in the presence of his commandant, always bringing his tokens to her. It was flattering, even if she figured that it was only because he knew her name, and knew she spoke English.

“Sergeant Grady, I...” she started, the syllables a fluid, smoothed out thing for Amelie even if she left the sentence unfinished. “Roy. Thank you, Roy,” Amelie recovered after a moment, sitting back down with the satchel in her lap and starting to untie the knot. She tugged the canvas open, smiling wider at the dark green packages inside that she’d seen plenty of around the clinic and plucking one free. Tearing the plastic open, Amelie slipped a few crackers and a silver tube from inside, squeezing peanut butter onto one of the crackers before she mussed her ward’s hair lightly. “Tomas, you can stop pretending now,” she said in her native tongue. “I have a treat for you that this soldier was kind enough to share.”

He smiled then, a boyish sort of look on his features, despite the uniform and firearms. That was only aided by the light flush to his cheeks when she called him Roy, and he rubbed the back of his neck in an unconscious nervous gesture. He wasn't used to hearing 'Roy' anymore, he was just Grady these days, or his rank. It sounded so nice coming from her, though. "You're welcome." he told her, watching as she immediately gave it away. Or at least some of it. He'd come to expect that from her, though. He brought her things and she shared. It was another thing that he adored about her, that generous nature that was so clear, even when being selfish probably would have been best for her. He gave a little quirked half smile to the boy, nodding to him even if he was unsure what she'd said. His French sucked, he only knew a few scattered words and most of those weren't for use in polite company.

Roy got a smile back as the boy sat up, wolfing down all four of the crackers Amelie had taken out quickly. She laughed slightly, a rare thing these days, and tucked a dinged cup of water in his hands before looking back to Roy. For a moment, the levity was there for her, bolstered by the little flush in his cheeks. He looked so young sometimes, younger than she knew he was, and it was one of the few delights left to see. Perhaps he didn’t take praise well? Whatever the reason, Amelie relented and looked back down, rummaging in the bag with a series of little nods. A few canteens, rations, clean bandages... it wasn’t much, but it was more than they’d had five minutes ago, and that was what mattered.

“Papa!” the boy called excitedly, hopping from his cot to run towards an approaching figure who scooped him up easily as it headed towards Roy and Amelie. “Doctor,” she greeted with a nod. “The sergeant was kind enough to bring us some supplies, I will see that they are handed out shortly. Please, make sure you eat.” And with her co-worker up to speed, Amelie rose from her seat again, nodding for Roy to lead the way. “I shall return before long,” she said before starting off.

Roy gave a nod in greeting to the doctor, having seen him around now and then even if it was Amelie he saw the most. He waited for her, noting that she took nothing for herself, and he was thinking about what he might have on him to give just to her. Tell her she had to keep it for herself. Besides the book. He guessed she couldn't do much sharing of that--no, wait, she could. She could give it to the kids around. He could see her doing that. The question was, did that mean he didn't give it to her? It was special to him.

In the end he knew he'd do it anyhow. He just led the way off from the rest of the clinic, giving them what could be considered alone time, even if that was sort of improbable. There'd be someone around, behind a ruined wall, walking past. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they walked, tugging his helmet off as he rubbed his hand over his shaved hair. When it grew out, he had a pretty unruly mass of hair that wanted to curl, but here, he got rid of it as often as possible. It was regulation as well as much more functional. "Things been well here since I was last through?" he asked. "You still have water?"

“Oui,” came the easy answer as she fell into step with him, lacing her fingers together to keep from any fidgeting. There were nerves at times, wholly different from the nerves of hearing gunfire or bombs dropping, removed from the bloody work of the clinic. Really, they reminded her of courting her husband, but with exhilaration threading them now when it hadn’t before. There was guilt, too, guilt over that enjoyment of the rare walk like this, of enjoying another man’s company so thoroughly and knowing it was mutual.

But he’d been keen to know about her, to level things off after the string of questions Amelie used on patients in the clinic to keep their focus off of the doctor’s work. “We are doing well, we found a cistern pump just up the street here?” she explained, gesturing to a darkened corner where half of a building had clogged the road. “It still holds pressure. One of the men and I bring water each morning, we may even hazard baths if we can find and heat a tub,” Amelie mused, sighing in longing at the very idea of a hot bath. “And you? We were beginning to think your battalion had moved north.”

"Good to hear." he said, at the part about them having water. When she mentioned a bath, he grinned just for a moment. "Lord, what I would give for a bath. Probably more in the cards for you than me, though. So I hope you find the time." He was usually busy doing things like fighting the enemy. He didn't get to do a whole lot of other things, just the little things the medic told him were necessary. He watched her, though, as they walked. Strolled, really, a slow progression. "You make sure the men around give you privacy." he told her, thinking he knew quite a few guys who wouldn't. "As for moving north, that's the idea, but we haven't gone yet." he said. "I just follow orders. Go where they tell me." He walked a few more paces. "If we were gone already, you'd miss my visits." he said, with a little note of light teasing.

“And who is to say I do not already?” Amelie shot back, grinning a touch wider at Roy. It felt inappropriate to even say, so close to flirtatious, but he was a bright spot in inarguably dark days. Even with the destruction all around, moments like this seemed to help her forget the scope of the war, if just for a few minutes. “You will be safe when you go, yes?” she asked, moving away from the flirtatious words. “You are at war, I know, but... be safe, Sergeant. I am sure some woman in America is eager to toy with your hair when you deign to grow some.”

He caught the note of flirting in there, though convinced himself immediately he'd imagined it. Either way, it didn't kill the smile it brought out in him. He didn't comment on it, his bravery for the first comment already used up, but his expression said it all for him, if even for only a moment. "I'll be as safe as I can be." he said, not really wanting to promise he'd be just fine when odds were against that. "Though--I don't have a girl back home. No one's really waiting for me besides one of my sisters." he admitted. He didn't hear from anyone else in his family. But now and then, he did get letters from Marian. They were one of the only other bright points he had.

That sobered her a touch, dimming her smile as Amelie nodded slightly. “How old is she?” she asked first, figuring that if his remaining family was what was waiting for him, it was worth knowing more about. “Do you write to her?” She had a curious little grin now, imagining him with possible siblings, thinking it’d be curious to see Roy removed from Sergeant Grady.

"She's a few years younger than me." Roy answered, though he did duck his head a little, watching the ground more as they walked than anything else. His family...that was a sore spot. It had fallen apart. He knew that. It had been in the process of falling apart when he'd enlisted. Now...and really even before he'd left, there'd been the tragedies. Where sickness had swept through the house and the little ones had taken the hardest hit. He felt that book in his pocket more keenly then. "Yes, I write." he added, after mentally shaking himself.

“I’m sorry,” she offered quietly, not rushed as if she was sorry for asking, just for whatever it had been that narrowed his focus down for that quiet moment. Amelie couldn’t guess what it was, but she was quiet for a moment herself, hoping that he wasn’t becoming one of the men who’d been broken by the war. “I hope she is well in your absence, and if you write, tell her there are people ensuring your health while you’re stationed with us,” Amelie instructed him with a mock-seriousness, grinning wide when it fell apart a moment later.

"I'm not sure how she is, really. She...generally tries to put on a brave face." Roy explained. "So she sounds fine. But I don't know if she really is." Like he didn't know how his cousins were, or other siblings. There'd been a whole lot in the Grady clan, before they'd all dispersed. "I'll be sure to tell her, though. I'm sure that'll make her feel a little better." he added, wanting to get back to brighter topics. After all, his family's personal sob story was likely nothing to Amelie, when her entire country was torn apart by war.

“A family trait, I think. This ‘brave face’,” she said lightly, teasing for a moment as she tried for the same thing as Roy. Tomorrow he could be in the line of fire again, tonight even. There was no way she could let him brood on whatever she’d stirred up. “Tell me something good,” Amelie requested after a moment’s thought. “A story, a memory, anything.” It was abrupt, but she wanted him to fully jump tracks thinking about it. Whatever might get him to lose three years with a boyish grin? Amelie was hoping he might dredge it up.

"What, you don't think I'm really brave, that I'm just pretending?" Roy asked, smirking a little at that. "Thanks a lot." he said, mock-wounded. "But, okay. Something good." he turned his attention that way. The truly sad part was there wasn't a whole lot of good he could draw from. He didn't want it to be anything from the war, because even if he could tell her of victories and the like, it involved battle, death, killing. Sniping, in his case. So that left him with his life before the war, and that hadn't ended all that well. Or, well...

It was now or never. "I come from a big family. It was me, and two sets of aunts and uncles with all their kids all in the same house. And I used to read to the little ones." he started. "And, before things changed, one of them had a favorite book. And I took it with me, when I left to enlist. There was...there was a sort of solider in it, a clockwork man. Tik-Tok." He dug it out of his pocket. "I sort of thought you might like it." he said, entirely unsure of himself now, even as he held it out to her.

Now that was a surprise, one Amelie couldn’t have anticipated. Such little details could mean so much, clearly. Before things changed, she repeated to herself, wondering what that might mean and not liking any of the implications. That made the confession a bittersweet thing to hear, even if she didn’t falter in taking the book from Roy, not looking away until she’d withdrawn entirely. Stopping to look closer in the dark around them, Amelie smiled over how well-worn the book was.

Was it from reading to his siblings? Or perhaps to himself out here, as a reminder of home? “Tik-Tok,” she echoed eventually, flipping the pages open curiously. Lessons of etiquette kept the hitch of her breath almost entirely silent as Amelie opened the book to find a pressed flower, a brilliant and rich red, tucked into the pages. Shutting the book with just a hint more smile, she couldn’t help a pang of guilt that stemmed from not giving the book back. But she didn’t.

“I will read it to Tomas,” she assured Roy, “But I will take good care of it as well.” This was more significant than rations and bandages, this was intended for her. And generous or not, it felt good to want something for herself. “You are far too kind, Roy, but thank you.”

He was watching every little nuance, as she took the book and for a moment he thought she was going to give it back. But then she didn't. And she did what he expected her to do--almost. He would have thought she might give it away, but if she was promising to take good care of it, then he hoped that meant she planned to keep it. So with that, he smiled, something like relief and elation mixed together. "You're welcome." he said. "I'm glad you like it. I...there are a lot of flowers and leaves and such in there." he said, since she'd seen one of them. "Just from places I've been since I got here. Guess it's sort of a really hard to decipher timeline."

Hugging the book in close, Amelie glanced back the way they’d come before nodding and starting back at a lazy pace. Too long, and she knew the staff would worry. “It has been some time since a man brought me flowers,” she teased, glad to see him easing back to a smile. Clearly this had been important to him, and it was definitely something Amelie knew she’d have to think on. “Or since I’ve had anything new to read. Well done, Sergeant,” Amelie added with a grin that she hoped would disarm the words she couldn’t take back.

"Would have brought you nicer ones, but I couldn't find any." He said, and his tone was hard to read. He could have been joking, but he could have been serious. In truth, he was serious. Very much so. But still. "And glad to be of service, Ma'am." he told her, genuinely. "Hope you like it, and Tomas does. The kids always did, even if they'd heard it a few times."

“A good story never grows old,” she agreed earnestly, glancing sidelong at Roy for a moment as they walked. He wasn’t serious. Was he? Could he really be so honest about things? “Can you stay long?” she asked, nodding ahead of them to the somewhat-faint point of light that was a lantern marking the clinic’s outer wall. “For a bite or two to eat, perhaps?” She wouldn’t feel right if he just left after providing so much. And, despite the impending confusion over his gift and her reaction to it? Amelie just didn’t want him gone quite yet.

He was watching her out of the corner of his eye. He was glad their pace was slow, that they weren't rushing the return. And even more so when she asked if he had more time. He glanced at his watch, then nodded. "I can stay a little longer." he told her. "Not that long, I only had a little bit before I was told the jeep would be back. But I have a few more minutes. I could escort you somewhere, if you'd like. I wouldn't want to take any food from you or anyone else here, though." he said honestly. He'd get something when he was back with his unit. Or that was the working theory.

“No,” Amelie told him, lips pressing together stubbornly even if they were also curling in amusement. “We would be poor hosts otherwise. This is still France, and they cannot take our manners.” She lost to a slight laugh a moment later, sighing and glancing at the ruin all around them. “But see me back to the clinic? I’ll make you tea if nothing else.” If there was time, and then there’d only be wondering that she couldn’t let get in the way of her work until he came back. If he came back. It seemed obvious then why she’d been told not to get too personal with the soldiers.

Tea. Tea which he had only ever drank when she offered it to him. He was more of a coffee guy himself, not that there was a lot of that around lately. But he'd never said a word, only too happy to have something to share with her, even if it was just a drink. "Tea sounds great." he said. Even if it didn't, and he would rather spend more time with her alone. But really, that was probably inappropriate, and maybe if she wanted to get back to the clinic, what she really meant was she wanted to not be stuck someplace alone with him. He'd just given her a gift, and...yeah. He could see why she might want that, and he didn't imagine her to be someone who would be so blatant with it. She'd be polite. Subtle.

Oblivious to the doubts plaguing Roy, Amelie’s reasoning wasn’t far from his own aside from a few key differences. Namely, herself. Spending time with this charming, selfless soldier was invigorating, and enjoying it so much wasn’t fair to her husband. It was wrong, and she needed to buffer herself against it. “I hope it’s not demanding, but I’d like if you could send word when you’re able,” she requested after a wordless handful of steps. “To let us know at the clinic how you and the others fare? We’ve patched so many of you now, I think we have a vested interest,” Amelie explained, not bothering to say if that was the royal ‘we’. Which it certainly was.

"I'll see what I can do." he said, not sure he would be able to do that. But if possible, sure. There were just a lot of protocols in place, certain things that would likely be frowned upon. But if he kept it vague, he might be able to do it. "I hope you know how much you're appreciated." he added, going back to watching her unobtrusively as they walked. "Like you said, you've patched up so many...everyone really thanks their lucky stars you're here." And the sentiment was true, even if he meant it personally as well. He just couldn't really say that. Not when he was thinking she was leading them back so she could have others around them. He went through his mantra again, how he wasn't special, he was just another soldier, and probably 99 percent of the soldiers that even laid eyes on her instantly fell in love. He was just another stupid American with a crush.

“You are fighting for my country,” Amelie pointed out in a soft rush of words, reaching to the side to jab Roy with an elbow. “We do what we can here, because we have no rebels like Paris. Perhaps eventually, with your nation’s help, we will. Perhaps we will not need them,” she offered sagely. “But we will support you however we’re able, after what you’ve done.” Or at least, that was how Amelie saw it. Her husband was a vastly different story, still waiting to see which military would hold the land. On some level, that was part of what had driven her here in the first place. How could anyone stay neutral in this?

Even if the contact was a jab, there was part of Roy that savored it. He smiled a little, ducking his head as he looked at the ground. "Not everyone's got that point of view." he told her. They'd run into french soldiers who had taken up with the germans. There were people in other places that viewed them as a problem, just like there'd been places where they were cheered. It was a whole range of emotions and reactions that ran rampant through the war, and you never really knew what you were going to get with it. "So...I still say, thank you for being here, on behalf of everyone you've treated. It's appreciated. Now smile, and nod, and accept that there's gratitude for your services." he said with a little light smile in her direction.

It was a reflex that had her smiling when he asked her to, not anything else as Amelie shook her head with feigned frustration. “So American,” she muttered clearly, even as she kept the expression aimed Roy’s way. “But I accept. Thank you.” Amelie took a moment to half-curtsy for him with a grin, falling back in step quickly. “I very nearly moved to Paris, not long before I found the clinic,” she recalled thoughtfully, lips pursing. “I was planning to attend classes there... it’s funny, no? How different things could be but for a single choice?” That was a question she’d been encountering somewhat regularly, lately. If her father had stayed in the Ukraine, or hadn’t married her off. If she’d left for Paris, never stepped into the clinic. If. “I am glad I chose correctly.”

Her accusation of being inherently American got a momentary if bright grin out of him. It didn't last long, smiles never did these days, but it was there, just for a moment. "That a girl." he said. "And you think you chose correctly?" he asked. "What were you planning to study in Paris?" He was curious about her, everything about her, truth be told. And they never usually had much time so there was precious little he'd gotten. But if she was going to bring up her own life, then he was more than happy to listen.

“Nothing so useful as this,” she answered with another nod in the clinic’s direction. “Some finance classes, perhaps, and some literary studies.” She knew they were just hobbies, allowances from her husband to keep her satisfied while he worked, but she’d also enjoyed the bits she’d experienced. “The city is also closer to my father’s home, I’m sure I would have stayed with him for some time. And yes, I believe I did. Being here when I was needed is more important than being where I’m perfectly safe, which I assume is a principle a man such as yourself can understand,” she said smartly, giving an emphatic little nod.

"I could see you buried in a library somewhere, reading all the great works." Roy said. "None of which I can name, by the way. So you'd have to tell me what's great and what isn't. I was never that much of a reader, just to the kids." he admitted. "But for what it's worth, I do understand, and I'm glad I got to meet you." he said, a little moment of bravery coming forth in that admission. Even if he never saw her again--always a distinct possibility every time he left her presence--he was glad he'd met her.

She couldn’t be around him, it was clear then and there. Not if this was going to happen, if he was going to cause the revelation that to him, she was an opportunity, a burst of good fortune. In her own marriage she was a... a commodity? It stung to consider that, even more because Amelie was still determined to do the respectable thing. “You are a singular man, Roy Grady,” she told him pointedly. “And I have known many men who wore that uniform. You do it well, and I’ll pray that you continue to wear it for many years to come.” That was as close as she could let herself get before Amelie looked away from him, setting her eyes on their destination.

He wasn't sure what had just happened there. He heard the words, and he felt a little honored by them and all, but something was going on beneath the surface. He just didn't have any idea what. "Thank you, ma'am." he said after a moment, thinking that was in order first. The clinic was coming up too fast for his tastes, though he imagined she was glad for it. He glanced at his watch again, just to check how much time he had remaining. Their slow pace had shaved off a few more minutes. "I hope I continue to do you proud."

It seemed unfair to pin that on her, with the limits Amelie knew existed. And she doubted Roy meant it that way, but her best hope was that Roy made it home safe, took off his uniform, and stayed away from places that ended up looking like this. Making her proud would be no comfort on the day something went wrong, if she never even knew. “And I hope the rest of your deployment here is terribly dull,” she countered, smirking Roy’s way. “A bit of boredom would be welcome some days, I imagine.”

He chuckled at that. "Well, if we can just take Hitler down, we'll have a much smoother ride." he told her. That was the whole thing, after all. Getting the Nazi's to back the fuck off. To lay down arms. They just didn't seem inclined. So, the war raged on, and he could hope as much as the next man that it would be over tomorrow...he didn't see it happening any time soon. "I would welcome some boredom." he added, with a light smile, even if it was wholly untrue. On the battlefield, if he had too much time to think things over, to stay there, waiting for orders or the enemy...it wasn't a great thing. It just gave you that much more time to think about a life left behind, either the one back home, or comrades who didn't make it this far. But there was no reason for her to know that, no reason she should know that. So he didn’t share it, instead just accepting what he knew she meant.

As much as she meant it for Roy’s safety, she also had to wonder if he was prone to doing exactly what he did. Would he brood on the things that had gone wrong? “I’m sure you know plenty of capable men to help in that task,” she agreed with a levity that Amelie didn’t quite feel. But this was expected at some point, showing her anxiety would do Roy no favors. “Shall we?” Amelie asked, stopping just shy of the gap in the outer wall that led to the clinic. She wanted that last moment to compose herself all over again and prepare for a long night of trying to sort herself out.

"Naw, Levin cheats at cards every chance he gets, and Berryman's a really sore loser." Roy told her, which happened to be true. "And cards are about all we can get up to that doesn't draw attention." When they had time. He stopped with her. "Certainly. Though...I've only got about five minutes til the ETA I was given." he admitted. He held the door for her, either way. "Might have to have that tea some other time." If there was another time.

Sighing in resignation, Amelie couldn’t help looking disappointed even if she understood. He had a job to do, one they’d talked about extensively. She’d asked him to be safe, listened when he needed to talk, and from here it was out of her hands. “Your next visit, oui,” Amelie agreed as she looked up at him, leaning in to plant a kiss on either cheek before she headed inside. “Au revoir, Sergeant Grady,” she said, glancing back from where she lingered just beyond the door.

It took every ounce of restraint he had not to pull her back, kiss her properly. He knew the custom, of course, he knew it wasn't romantic. But he wasn't a frenchman, he was an american with a very brightly burning torch for the woman, so it was difficult to keep that in mind, for it not to stir things up in him that he tried to keep under wraps. And he managed it, but it left him a little longing, it left him looking after her with a clear desire just for a heartbeat or two. "Au revoir," he said, trying his best with the pronunciation. He stayed there, for a moment, looking like he had more to say, more to do, but then he heard the unmistakable sound of a jeep horn a little ways off. He gave her one last look, and a light smile, before he turned, dropping his helmet back on his head. Back to the war. Back to his brothers in arms. Even if he wanted just another five minutes with her, he had things to do, and they wouldn't wait.