still thinking about how skip's death is made much worse with the subtle mention, in the same episode, of faye tanner waiting for him at home. it makes his passing more gut-wrenching because it reminds you that these men—just boys, really, aren't nameless or faceless soldiers. they're someone's son, brother, nephew, cousin, grandson, and fiance. it hits you that the lives and stories of these boys won't just affect the brothers they served with during the war, but also the loved ones they left behind to protect, praying and waiting for them to make it back home. skip isn't just malarkey's best friend, part of the mortar squad, a paratrooper, an easy company member, a regular gi soldier. he's also someone's son, brother, nephew, cousin, grandson. he is—was sweet faye tanner's fiance
Faye and Skip, inspired by @gemfyre 's headcanon post that breaks my heart all over again every time I listen to that song 😭.
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Whispering our goodbyes / Waiting for a train / I was dancing with my baby / In the summer rain / I can hear him saying / Nothing will change / Come dancing with me baby / In the summer rain
I remember the rain on our skin / And his kisses hotter than the Santa Ana winds / Whispering our goodbyes / Waiting for a train / I was dancing with my baby / In the summer rain
I remember laughing til we almost cried (There at station that night) / I remember looking in his eyes
Oh my love, it's you and that I dream of / Oh my love, since that day / Somewhere in my heart I'm always / Dancing with you in the summer rain
Doesn't matter what I do now / Doesn't matter what I say / Somewhere in my heart I'm always / Dancing with you in the summer rain
I can hear the whistle / Military train / I was dancing with my baby / In the summer rain / I can here him singing / Ooh "Love Is Strange"/ Come dance with me baby / In the summer rain
I remember the rain pouring down / And we poured our hearts out / As the train pulled out / I can see my baby / Waving from the train / It was last time that I saw him / In the summer rain
Every time I see the lightening / Every time I hear the thunder / Every time I close the window / When this happens in the summer / Oh the night is so inviting / I can feel that you are so close / I can feel you when the wind blows / Blows right through my heart
Every night and every day now / Though I know you've gone away / Somewhere in my heart I'm always / Dancing with you in the summer rain
Prompt idea (If you like, this is a bit different): Kitty, Faye and Frannie hanging out just girls, crussin streets, getting in trouble like rebels they are, doing something badass together. They are doing kickboxing classes together and no one can convince me otherwise.
Ten minutes after the end of their kickboxing class, Kitty is still in the locker room, struggling to get her shoes on.She probably needs a new pair of sneakers. These are so worn out that the soles are barely holding together, and she has to struggle to tie the frayed laces. It’s not her fault that she likes these shoes, however. Harry got them for her for her last birthday, just because they were her favorite color (bright purple) and she’s worn them every chance she got since.She’s almost got her final lace tied, and is so focused that she doesn’t realize she’s not alone until an arm suddenly lands across her shoulders.
She doesn’t scream, but she does jump – a little high, maybe, but she isn’t embarrassed about it. She turns her glare on the body that plops next to her on the bench.“Jumpy,” Fran observes, smirking. “All that exercise got you wound up, Kitty Cat?”Fran’s lips are already painted red, even though her hair is still dripping from her shower. The world could be ending and that woman would still be wearing lipstick. Kitty can respect that.“I got a few nice hits on you when we sparred,” Kitty replies, knotting her laces tight.“Yeah, that’s because I let you.”Kitty drops her foot back onto the floor. It lands with a thud, echoing in the locker room, and she nods to herself in satisfaction. She could probably do with a shower, but she figures she’ll grab one at home. (Public showers weird her out anyways, though the locker room at their exclusive gym offers enough privacy.) She’s about to start leading through her bag when Fran pipes up again.“Me and Faye are going to that cafe a few blocks down. You feel like coming?”Kitty raises an eyebrow, glancing at her friend. “The one with the chalk sign out front with all those goofy inspirational quotes? I thought that place was cheesy.”“Yeah, but according to Renee, they make the best drinks there. You wouldn’t expect it, but, hey. I trust that girl’s taste.” Fran’s shoulders bob, though her dark eyes are still fixed on Kitty. “What d'you say? You in?”Kitty takes a moment to consider it. “Who else is coming?”“Me,” sings out a voice. Faye steps out from the steamy shower area, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her slender body. Her long hair drips down her back as she makes a beeline over to her own gym bag. “You should come, Kitty. The place is cute.”“The place is dorky.”“In a cute way,” Faye shrugs. “It’s got a sense of humor. Come out with us.”Kitty tilts her head. There’s nothing stopping her. She’s not that tired, the clothes she’s wearing are nice enough, and she’s pretty sure her phone is charged in case they wind up having to call an Uber. She looks down at herself, taking in her sweat-stained gym top and raggedy sneakers, before making her decision.“Well,” she says, pushing herself to her feet. “Guess I better shower, then.”
The cafe is exactly as nice as it was talked up to be. The food is good, the martinis are better, and they pass a pleasant hour together. Faye animatedly recounts a mishap at her latest sculpting class that sends her friends into hysterics. Fran shows a picture of her new niece, and they gush over the bald-as-an-egg infant. Kitty talks about her new volunteer job at the animal shelter, and how they’ve learned Harry is allergic to just one breed of cat hair.
By the time they leave, the sky is just beginning to grow warm with dusk. They’re all feeling bubbly from their drinks and unwilling to let the day end, so they hang around together outside a cluster of shops.
That’s when the trouble begins.
“I mean, I’d feel bad about it, a little, but it’s not gonna kill me, ya know? Sometimes things just don’t work out. People don’t work out. You can’t be friends with everyone.” Fran pauses, her attention drawn to a salesrack outside a discount clothing store. She frowns at a patterned top for a moment, lips pursing, before announcing, “I hate some people.”
Kitty has only been paying half-attention to her friend’s ramblings; justified, since Fran has been going on for five minutes. Once she starts talking, getting her to close her mouth is like trying to stop a moving train. Faye, who’s not as good at pretending to be interested, ducked into a bookstore a few minutes ago, and hasn’t been seen since. Fran is so busy both talking and inspecting the clothes on sale that she hasn’t even noticed.
“I just don’t have time for that persistent negativity in my life, ya know? Right?”
“Right,” Kitty agrees promptly. She’s pretty sure that the neckline of the top in Fran’s hands goes all the way down to her bellybutton. It’s a little horrifying.
“I don’t like drama. I’m not a dramatic person.”
“Right,” Kitty says again. She’s seen Fran and her boyfriend fight. The two of them eat up drama like candy.
“And so I told her! I said, ‘Look, Linda, I really like you, but if you don’t get your head out of your ass –’”
“I’m back!” Faye suddenly sings out, jogging up to them. A large Barnes and Noble bag hands off her arm, and it looks stuffed to the brim. Fran cuts herself off, glancing up at her friend in mild surprise, before wordlessly holding up the top for approval. The grimace that twists Faye’s face says it all.
Fran snorts and hangs the top back on the rack. When she turns back to them, Kitty spots a light in her eyes that doesn’t bode well. She’s know Fran for a while now, and can tell when she’s ready to cause some trouble.
“You know that bar, over on Welch Avenue? The one Joe used to work at.”
Faye perks up. “Ooh, that’s the one that’s giving Skip and Don’s place trouble! Skip told me all about it! They’re stealing their customers, and he thinks they’re mad Joe quit to come work for him…” She trails off, also noticing Fran’s mischievous expression. “Why? What’d you have in mind?”
Kitty can’t help frowning. They just ate at the cafe. Surely Fran couldn’t be eager to extend her wallet at another place, let alone Faye’s boyfriend’s competition. Then Fran’s bright red lips twist in a wicked smirk, and it’s like a lightbulb going off in Kitty’s head.
“You want to cause some trouble,” she sighs. It was probably a bad idea to let Fran have that last margarita.
Fran shrugs her shoulders, crossing her arms. At this point, Kitty doesn’t even know why she’s surprised.
She and Faye exchange glances. Faye shrugs. Kitty rolls her eyes.
Fran better be buying drinks.
She’s been staring at this guy for the past ten minutes, and Kitty is pretty sure he’s a vampire.
No grown adult has skin that pale and hair like that. He looks like some Hot Topic wet dream. He looks like he crawled out of a MCR music video and staggered into the nearest bar, half-alive. He looks... kind of hot. Kitty is a little weirded out by herself.
“Is that a ‘I think he wants to bite me’ look, or a ‘I want him to bite me’ look?”
Kitty raises an eyebrow at Fran, who innocently sips at her whiskey. She’s been flirting with the bartender ever since they got here (subtly trying to weasel business information out of him, and succeeding) but it’s obvious that she’s bored now. Kitty can’t blame her, since the guy was about as interesting as dried wood. Her Dracula drunk guy is at least fun to watch.
“I’ve got Harry. And he’s creepy.”
“He is,” Fran concedes, leaning over to look. “Nice jawline, though.”
He also has noodle limbs. Kitty cringes at the idea of that guy on the dance floor; she thinks her own boyfriend is bad enough, with his talent for stepping on other people’s feet. This guy could probably knock someone out with a rogue fist and not even notice.
The music here is bad, and the layout of the dance floor is even worse. That’s the only reason she and Fran are nursing alcohol instead of being out on the floor like the last member of their party, “getting a feel of the place” (Faye makes visiting a rival bar sound like a covert secret operation).
Kitty’s eyes stray over her shoulder at the thought of Faye, and she immediately perks up. It’s not hard to spot their friend; Faye’s sky blue top must be the brightest thing in the entire club, and she currently has some guy trying to sneak his arm around her waist.
“Uh-oh,” Kitty murmurs as she watches Faye try to twist away from him. Fran’s shoulders go tense. She tosses her head back to down her drink on one, and Kitty does the same before they both rise to their feet.
“Hey!”
Kitty’s shout rings out over the lame techno music. Faye and the guy both freeze, a look of disdain on the creeps face, and utter relief on Faye’s.
That’s all Fran needs to see before she goes charging like an enraged bull. The guy’s lips pull back in a sneer at her approach, but he has never come face-to-face with an enraged Frances Peca before. He doesn’t realize how much danger he’s in.
“Do you really think it’s okay to get that handsy with a girl you’ve just met?”
Fran is half the man’s size, but she is blazing with righteous fury. More than that, she isn’t alone. Kitty is just behind her, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. They both know how to look intimidating when they want to, and the creep wilts under their glares.
“I was just --”
“Touching our friend,” Fran interjects, raising her voice. Now more eyes are being drawn to the scene, and the creep is rapidly losing ground to stand on.
“Sorry. Sorry,” he mutters, holding up his hands as he steps back. “Christ, it ain’t like I was --”
“Stop talking,” Kitty cuts him off. The man’s mouth clicks shut immediately. They glare him down until he sequesters himself in a corner of the bar, far off from other people.
If Faye is shaken up, she’s careful not to show it. She licks her lips before they purse into a pout. “Aww, and I was hoping we were gonna get into a fight.”
“Show off the moves we learned in class today?” Fran’s mouth quirks.
“I’ve got my own moves.” Faye reaches out, closing one hand around Fran’s forearm. Her other rests on Kitty’s shoulder, and she flashes then both a beaming grin. “Let’s dance! All three of us!”
“To this song?” Kitty wrinkles her nose. She’d have a better time trying to dance to Harry’s warbling in the shower. Faye looks so eager, however, and even Fran looks a little excited, that she can’t bear to say no. She begins to sway to the beat, and Faye’s grin widens.
The bar really can’t hold a candle to Skip and Don’s place, but it’s nice enough to spend a nice. Maybe they’re doing reconnaissance, maybe they’re just dancing -- either way, Kitty’s glad she agreed to a girl’s night out.
maybe i should stop thinking about how skip never got to marry faye tanner. maybe i shouldn't think about skip mentioning faye in all of his stories and the men teasing him about it. maybe it would do me good to not think about how the thought of faye waiting for him at home kept him alive during the cold winter and pushed him to survive under heavy artillery fire just to get home to her. maybe it's not healthy to think about faye waiting for skip to make it back home to her but couldn't. maybe it's time to think about something else other than faye not having a body to mourn over
Yeah, i'm fine. just thinking about how skip probably wrote to faye about malarkey, and how skip probably talked malarkey's ear off about faye. And how faye and malarkey probably met after the war, sharing stories about skip and keeping him alive through their thoughts and memories of him
