Chapter Text
It had been a long, hard war. Captain John Smith was readyfor it to be done. He was ready for a lot of things in fact. For the spring buttercupsto bloom and fill the surrounding war ridden fields, for the rain to stop, but most importantly to see her face again.
Not a day went past that John didn’t pray for her safe return or chastise his stupidity for putting her in the field. He never should have done it. His Rose was meant for safer destinations, not the dangers of bombings, or hiding from Nazi’s while in their household. Two months had passed since he last saw her face, two months of daily terror, two months in which everyone else had given up hope. Everyone but him. She was a nobody they’d say, sacrificed herself for the greater cause, was lacking the proper training, anything in order to get their captain’s mind back in the war room.
Captain Smith had snuck into Belin in the dead of night, to meet with one of his spies who had reported whereabouts of a new encampment. Sent in to see for himself, Smith had been walking by a local fish shop when a blonde curl caught his attention. Hair pulled back in a crimson dress and heels, Smith had to look twice before his eyes betrayed his heart proving it wasn’t his dream girl.
Snapping him back to reality was the sirens of an approaching air raid. He watched as everyone rushed to the nearest bomb shelter. But for him it didn’t matter, nothing really mattered anymore. Nothing but her. Standing there John watched the approaching airplanes overhead, the whistling of the bombs as they closed towards Earth, the explosions as one hit a nearby building sending rubble flying.
He couldn’t help but watch as another airplane overhead opened its doors, releasing another, “erhalten aus dem Weg,” screamed a man noticing Smith’s ambivalence about the crisis surrounding him.
He was about to call back for the man to leave him be but closely approaching him was a Nazi, full in uniform, rushing to prevent Smith from being crushed by the rubble as the latest bomb him. With a scream John looked over seeing a woman, the one in navy holding the hands of two young children and trying to shelter them as their bodies were cascaded with rocks. “Rose,” he called being catapulted to the ground.
In she walked wearing a yellow top and cream skirt, “how are you today,” the young woman asked.
“Fine,” Smith gruffly answered only glancing up briefly before turning back to the paperwork before him.
He could smell her perfume fill his nostrils. It reminded him of vanilla and violets fresh in the spring, the way it always smelled on his family’s farm fresh after the morning dew. “That’s wrong,” she interrupted.
“Excuse me,” John scoffed setting the paper down.
She leaned over pointing to a sentence, “fliegende Wasservogel. It should be Schwimmvogel. More precise,” she instructed.
Captain Smith swallowed hard pulling on his ear while absorbing the situation before him. How dare this secretary challenge him, “familiar with German are you,” he accused.
“Yes. Fluent,” she smiled taking his now empty plate from lunch, “from the time I was a child myand grandmother told me stories about her city. She taught me German but my mum always instructed I should never use it outside of the house or everyone would think I was a Nazi,” the young blonde explained.
Quickly he flipped the page over, “and are you? A Nazi,” Smith asked wondering how someone of German descent got a job in the war department.
“No. They fled the country because they’re Jewish. My mum is English,” she answered.
John nodded, “your father must be proud of you,” he added.
“He died when I was thirteen months old,” she said beginning to leave the room.
“Wait, what’s your name,” Captain Smith asked seeing his new secretary’s search for a fast escape.
Pausing she looked at the red nail varnish on her hand, “Rose, Rose Tyler sir. Is there anything else I can get you?”
Standing Smith pushed a pile of papers off one of his chairs, “sit,” he ushered, “tell me how did you become interested in the war,” he asked.
Rose followed his instructions, balancing his empty plate on her lap, “the movies. Everything is set in Germany. Berlin looks so romantic and foreign. It’s like a fantasy,” she confessed.
Her smile affected him in a way no one’s had before. He couldn’t stop staring at the way her pink plump lips slightly turned up. They were so inviting. “It’s nothing like the movies,” Smith assured her.
“I am fully aware of that. My father’s family is still in Germany. We still get letters from them sometimes. Well, we used to,” admitted Rose.
Nodding John set the pen he still was holding onto down, “stand up and turn around,” he ordered.
“Why,” Rose objected.
“Because I asked you to,” Captain Smith pushed at her audacity to question him.
Continuing to sit her eyes didn’t leave his, “well I’ll take it sitting down.”
John couldn’t help but snicker at her flagrance as he leaned back in his chair, “tell me everything you see in the room.”
Rose closed her eyes, “painting of Churchill on the wall behind me, brown leather couch, two pillows, one has stuffing coming out of a corner but you try to hide that, your phone is off the hook, you turned over the page when you thought I might be a spy, the pen you were just holding is black with gold trim, your eyes are brown and you tug your ear when you’re nervous,” she recited opening them again.
“How do you feel about being my personal translator,” Captain Smith questioned.
He saw her cheeks flush, “I’ve had such a big mouth all my life and now I don’t know what to say,” she laughed.
“It’s nothing glamorous,” he promised.
“Will it mean more time around you,” Rose asked.
Smith sat up straight, “will that be a problem?”
“No,” she answered looking at the crumbs on her plate.
“Well then report to me tomorrow morning. I’ll have you set up properly,” he instructed watching her leave. He hit the lottery with her. Not only was she pretty to look at but smart too. A perfect way to gain points with the dignitaries he had visiting.