Only a Paper Moon [ Band of Brothers ] 3

[3] A Martyr for Love

Request: Dick and Nix talk about the latter's feelings for Alice

Summary: Nothing good could come from acting on his feelings for Alice. He knew it. Dick knew it. They all knew it. So why had he come to Paris? Curiosity.

PARIS, FRANCE

In the darkness, Nixon almost didn't catch the small wave she sent her way as the taxi took Alice back to her hotel. Frigid air surrounded him. The army hadn't issued them coats yet. But even the winter sting didn't compare to the overwhelming desire for several shots of Vat 69 that filled his body.

Paris. Nixon clenched his fists as he turned from the dark street. He realized he must've been a glutton for pain, deciding to come to Paris when he knew she was there. But he'd wanted to see the bar. He'd wanted to see Dick. 

He'd wanted to see her.

Turning back from the street, he walked from the taxi line to Dick's hotel. Nix lit a cigarette half-way up the elevator. The smoke offered a bit of a distraction. Not nearly enough though.

Room 312. When Dick opened the door for him, the quizzical expression on his face said everything. A bit of disappointment, a bit of concern, a bit of amusement. Nix just pushed past him and looked around the room.

"For Christ's Sake, not even any wine?" he looked around the fancy room. He'd not noticed the one-room prohibition early. "Did you ask for a dry room?"

Dick smirked. He shook his head. "No." But then his smile dropped. "I thought you were going to Aldbourne to see your sister?"

"I was," he muttered. Sitting down on the bed, he ran a hand through his hair.

"Blanche isn't feeling well again?"

Nixon looked up at him where he sat in the desk chair. Dick knew more than pretty much anyone else about Blanche's struggles. Every time he thought about it, Nixon couldn't help but just get angry at their father. If Stanhope Nixon could be anything but an ass, maybe she wouldn't be so exhausted and sad all the time. Maybe she wouldn't drink. Maybe she could just be a happy, normal young woman.

"She said she's fine," he muttered again. He knew Dick believed that as much as he did, which was to say, not at all. "But, how's Paris?"

"Busy," Dick said. At first he just shook his head, lost in thought. But then he smiled. "I overheard someone from Able say they used to eat rats for breakfast at Toccoa. Do you remember that?"

With a laugh, Nix shook his head. "Must've slipped my mind."

Basic training. It seemed like ages ago. Nix felt his smile drop. Things had been simpler in training. Everything had been simpler. He fell into silence.

"Lew. Do you know what you're doing?" 

Nixon looked up at him. Dick's expression was nearly unreadable. Guarded, concerned. They both knew what, who, he was talking about, even if neither had ever voiced it. How Dick managed to read him like a book was frustrating sometimes. Nix decided to play dumb. "What do you mean?"

Dick didn't respond. Instead, he just watched Nixon. Nix felt like he was being interrogated. It was horrible.

"Nothing's going on. I'm married remember," Nix snapped. 

"Yeah. I do." As Dick sat on the wooden chair, he shook his head a bit. "Do you?"

Nix rolled his eyes. But he knew Dick was right. Kathy wasn't bad. She was smart, she was driven. Kathy had graduated from Stanford when he'd done Yale. Maybe that was why it just didn't work. Neither wanted to be told what to do. But they did. 

"What do you want me to say, Dick? This isn't my fault!" Nixon snapped again. Taking out a new cigarette, he lit it in the absence of alcohol. Stupid dry room. "Goddamnit."

With a small sigh, Dick shrugged. "Just be careful, for her sake if not for yours."

For her sake. For Alice's sake. Nixon knew he was right, of course. Every day he thought about that. Every time he felt himself wishing he could run his fingers through her hair or kiss her where she stood or just watch her smile for hours. Jesus Christ, that smile.

But no matter the outcome, acting on those overpowering emotions would mean hurting her. If he acted on those impulses still married to Kathy, she'd be labeled a whore. If he left Kathy and his responsibilities behind for her, she'd be the woman who brought shame to the Nixon family. He couldn't do that to Alice, even if he suspected she felt the same.

God that smile, though, and the laugh that came with it. The smile that seemed to return no matter what. Every time she won a poker hand, or tasted a new bottle of wine, or heard the enlisted singing in their foxholes, it was there. And she'd laugh, too. Even after years of hardship, she still laughed. And he could make her do it.

Maybe his greatest achievement in life, really.

"I won't cross any lines, Dick," he said. 

Nixon let his own tiny smile at the memories fade into nothingness. He had to ignore the physical. He couldn't kiss her, he couldn't run his fingers through her hair. But nothing said that he couldn't talk to her, be her friend, make her laugh when he could. 

With a tiny, almost imperceptible laugh, Dick nodded. "I know. You love her too much." When Nix didn't respond, he just shook his head. "Do you have a room?"

"No. I didn't think that far ahead," Nix admitted. 

Dick rolled his eyes. Of 'course he hadn't. Grabbing a pillow off his bed, he threw it at him. "This is my R&R. You get the floor."

"You didn't even want to come to Paris!"

"Yeah, but you made me. So you take the floor."

With a scoff, Nix dropped the pillow down to the hardwoods. City of lights. City of love. As he settled down, Nix couldn't help but feel bitter at the irony. City of love. Paris had been nothing but trouble. 

But he'd needed to see the place where her life had been turned upside down. It was the place she'd become Alice, leaving Adélaïde behind. It was the place that set her life in motion to eventually become a paratrooper. Nix had needed to see it for himself, to satisfy his curiosity, to satisfy that desire to know more. He should've known it wouldn't satisfy it. It only fed it.

Nix sighed as the lights went out. He laughed under his breath. A city of love.