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FanFic
The Richard Dawson Experience
Last UpDated: 26 November 2001.
Site Copyright © 2000-2001. Lisa Inc., All Rights Reserved.
Story Copyright © 2001. Rhonda "StuntChick36" Inc., All Rights Reserved.
HAMMERLOCK II: SAVING SGT. MILWORTH
Red.
That's all that Freddie can see: red. Blood red flags waving in the stormy air. Thousands upon thousands of young men march in formation under the gray and red sky with blood splattered on their brown and green uniforms. Each man looks Freddie in the eyes as they pass in front of her as if she were reviewing them. She looks around her, searching desperately for something, or someone, that's familiar. She jumps down from the stage and runs into the crowd of onlookers. As she makes her way through the crowded street, she sees someone she knows. The people around this entity fade away into misty clouds as Freddie gets closer. Suddenly a chill runs through her body.
"Mutter (Mother)?" she asks cautiously. Freddie creeps closer to this familiar face.
"Ja, meine Kind. Ich bin's (Yes, my child. It's me)."
Could it be? Freddie's eyes are now swimming with tears as she moves a little faster towards her mother.
"Mutter!" Freddie runs up to her mother and embraces her, crying openly. "Mutter, mutter..." She looks up at her mother as she takes Freddie's face in her hands and kisses her on the cheeks. "Sie fehlt mir (I've missed you)." All of the sudden, Freddie's mother begins to look different. "Was lauft (What's happening)?" She watches in a state of utter terror as her mother's face rapidly drains of color and red liquid begins pouring out of her wounded chest. Scared, she backs away from this frightening sight.
"Nein, nein!" Freddie shouts as she backs away faster. "Schon wieder! Bitte (Not again! Please)!"
"Fredricha," beckons the creature. "Kommen Sie her (Come here)."
"Nein!" Suddenly, the wind gusts and pushes Freddie up against a wall, or what she thinks is a wall. She turns quickly and sees that it's a gigantic pile of dead and bleeding bodies. Freddie jumps and screams as some of the bodies move and come alive. Some of the bloody hands grab at her coat as she backs away in a panic. "Mein Gott (My God)!" Freddie turns around and sees that her mother is laying herself down on a newly forming pile and runs to her. "Mutter, nein! Verlassen nicht! Verlassen mich wieder nicht! Bitte (Mother, no! Don't leave! Don't leave me again! Please)!"
Her mother smiles at her as she lays herself down. "Ich liebe dich, Fredricha (I love you, Fredricha)." Freddie starts shoving the bodies away from her mother and tries to pull her out of the pile. Her mother pulls her hand back. "Nein, meine Kind (No, my child)." The hands that once pulled at Freddie before start to pull at her again, this time trying to bring her into the pile.
"Nein! Nein!!" She struggles to free herself as everything around her starts to fade into black. Her body goes numb. Still, she continues to fight the tugging.
"Nein......... nein..... Hilfe mich.... Ich... Ich... Ich bin... (No... no... Help me... I... I... I am...)" Her body is awakened by gentle yet urgent shaking. Freddie sits straight up, eyes wide open, sweat pouring down her face, and panting like she just ran a 10-mile race. "Herr Gott (Jesus Christ)!" She wipes her face with her hand, then looks at it to see if there is any blood on it. Then she feels a hand on her shoulder.
"Freddie, darlin'," says a familiar, soothing voice. "Are you alright? You jumped right out of me arms." She slowly looks over to her right and sighs with relief. It's Newkirk, with his face full of concern.
Her face bends with grief. "Peter," she says as she starts crying again. He takes her into his arms and slowly leans back and craddles her.
"Shhhhhhhhh... What is it, love?" he softly urges. "Please tell me."
"Oh, God. It was horrible," she says as she wipes the flowing tears away. "I... I saw my mother."
"Your mother?"
"Yeah. And when I got closer, she looked just like she did when my father and I... when my father and I saw her at the mortuary. Colorless, lifeless. Blood oozing from the bullet holes. And they wanted me to go with them."
Newkirk kisses her head. "Who's 'they', darlin'?"
"The others."
"Others?"
"The others who were executed with my mother. They tried to pull me onto the death pyre with them." Newkirk hugs her a little closer and strokes her damp hair. He's never seen her this upset before. He's always been amazed by her courage, her strength, and by her calm and gentle nature. Yesterday, he witnessed the explosion of her angry core, which for an instant had scared him. Now he sees the other extreme... and this bothers him even more.
"Oh, love," he whispers as he kisses her head again. "It was just a nightmare. That's all. Just a miserable bad dream. No one's gonna hurt you." His warm, gentle hand wipes a few tears from her cheeks. He's captivated by how her blue eyes sparkle as she looks up at him, making him feel needed. Her eyes almost have a voice of their own, almost saying, 'Hold me. Tell me everything's alright.' "You're still where you were when you fell asleep. And I'm still here, too." She smiles a little.
"Thank God for that." He smiles back at her as he lays back down with Freddie tight in his grasp.
"Lay your head back now, love. And dream of happiness." Newkirk kisses her gently on the head.
She cracks a small grin. "Alright." She lays her head over his heart and listens as it beats slow and steady, almost as if it were driving out the last of the ugly thoughts from her mind. "Peter, have I ever told you that... you've got the most wonderful heartbeat?"
He brushes some of her hair off of her cheek and smiles. "No, you haven't."
Freddie smiles. "Well, I'm tellin' you now. You do."
"Well, I've always been fond of it. Let's me know I'm still breathin'." Newkirk looks down over her, watching the subtle moonglow grace her hair. He carefully slides his hand over hers and puts his fingers in between hers, holding it gently. "Anytime you want to listen to it, love, just lay your head down on me."
Once again, Freddie's world fades to black. And sleep invades her sore, battered body.
When Freddie's eyes open a few hours before roll call, she finds that she's alone. She tries to sit up and look around but clutches her ribs and yelps in pain. Newkirk comes out of the officer's room, looking very sexy in his undershirt and with his face still lathered in spots.
"Freddie," he says as he comes over to her, "what the hell are you doin'?"
"Hurting myself," she groans as she leans back on her hands. "I was tryin' to sit up."
He sits down on the edge of her bed and says calmly, "What do you need? I'll get it for you." He wipes the soap suds from his face.
She smiles. "I got a lip ache." He reaches up and touches the two medium-sized slits on her lips.
"No wonder. Those look pretty bad. I wish there was something I could put on them so they don't get infected," he says.
"Try your mouth," she demands with mock authority. He tosses his towel aside and carefully scoots closer to her, grinning like a fox.
"Yes, ma'am." He kisses her softly at first. "Does that hurt?"
"No." He goes in for seconds, getting no resistance from Freddie. He gently leans her back down while kissing her injured mouth. Her arms wrap around his neck and hold him close as she lets her tongue lick his lips, hoping that he'll part them and let her taste him. Newkirk backs away just a little, then softly runs his tongue over her cuts, drawing a moan from Freddie.
"I'm sorry, love," he says, stopping immediately.
"For what?" she asks. "I liked that."
"Oh. I thought I hurt you."
Freddie puts on a child-like pout and says, "It hurt when you stopped."
"Aww," he says. "I'm sorry." He kisses her again, letting his tongue slide slowly around with hers inside her mouth. After a few sensuous seconds, they seperate.
"Come on," she says. "Help me up so I can get dressed."
"Dressed? What for?"
"We got roll call in 5 minutes." Newkirk stands up and grabs his sweater from the top bunk and sits down on her bed again as Freddie tries to get up.
"Oh, no you don't. You're gonna stay right here."
"Peter-"
"I don't wanna hear it." He lays her back down and kisses her on the forehead. "Now promise me you'll be a good girl and stay put. I'll tell Schultz you're resting."
Freddie gives up and sighs. "Alright. I promise." Newkirk kisses her again on the forehead and smiles.
"I'll be back soon." He stands up and grabs his hat and coat, then leaves the hut. She looks at the door, then lays her head back down and closes her eyes.
"Lucky. Yeah, that's what I am. Lucky. I'm in love with someone who really cares about me. Oh, Peter. My sweet darling. I only hope that I am just as deserving of your love, your sweetness and your warmth a hundred years from now."
Freddie opens her eyes slowly. She manages to swing her legs around and set her feet on the floor. Reaching above her and growling, she pulls herself up into a sitting position and rests her hands on her knees. She moans in pain as the barracks door opens and Schultz walks in.
"Good morning, fraulein," says the stout guard. "Newkirk told me that you weren't coming out for roll call."
"I'm afraid not, Schultz. I'm sorry. I just can't move this morning."
He smiles as he turns to leave. "Well, as long as you have not escaped, then I have no problems."
She smiles. "Now why would I wanna leave you, Schultz? You're such a darling man."
Schultz becomes instantly twitterpated and blushes. "I can't help it. I'm irresistable!" As he says that, he leaves, leaving Freddie to laugh a little and shake her head. She waits for a brief moment, then tries to stand up. She leans forward and hopes that gravity will help her out. Slowly she is able to pull herself about halfway into standing position just as-
"Fredricha!"
She looks at the door and sees Newkirk taking off his coat and hat, tossing them on an empty bed, and walking over to her.
"Peter, please-"
"'Peter please' nothin'. Lay back down there." She lets him guide her back down into bed where he covers her partially up with a blanket. "Am I gonna have to chain you down?"
She grimaces. "Don't tease. You know how much I'd enjoy that." He smiles and runs his fingers down her cheek.
"Once you're all back to your ol' self, then I'll tie you down." He kisses her lips softly. "I just want you to rest and get better. That's all."
Freddie sighs. "I know you do, love. And I appreciate it." Newkirk sits down next to her, holding her wounded hand in his. "I don't like being layed up with an injury. Especially when there's work to be done." They both sit in silence for a few moments and gaze into each other's eyes.
"I don't care about the missions. You are all that concerns me." Newkirk lays himself down next to her in bed and puts one arm around her. "I hate seeing you like this, Freddie," he says softly and honestly. "I wish that I could have been the one to get hurt. Not you."
"Trust me. It's no picnic feelin' this way." There's a knock at the door, and Carter enters.
"'Morning!" he says cheerfully. "Here's that aspirin I promised you, Freddie." He walks over to the bed and hands her a small test tube of white powder.
"Our answer to Louis Pasteur. You think this stuff will work?" asks Newkirk.
"It should," says Carter. "I was up all night working on it."
"If you spent all that time working on it just for me, Andrew," says Freddie, "then I know it'll work." Carter smiles bashfully.
"Thanks." He gets a cup of water from the sink. "Unfortunately, I had to leave it in the powder form, but if you put in some water, it should work just the same."
"You're a godsend," Freddie says with a smile. Carter dumps the powder in the water and swirls it around a bit.
"Here, drink this down," he urges. "If you need more, let me know and I'll make up another batch." Carter kneels down and waits for her to take the medicine. Freddie drinks the painkiller in a few large gulps, then hands the cup back to Carter.
"Yuck," she says, her face wrinkling with disgust. "That was awful. But I'm grateful. Thanks."
The young American smiles. "It might make you a little sleepy," he warns. "I made it a little bit stonger than the stuff you'd get at your local pharmacy."
Freddie smiles. "You baby-faced drug pusher, you."
"That's our man Carter," says Newkirk. "The Dr. Feelgood of Stalag 13." Carter smiles and blushes.
"Maybe I'll be a doctor someday," says Carter with a grin. He stands and walks around to the other side of the bed and looks down at Freddie. He takes off his hat and one of his black leather gloves. Slowly and sweetly he strokes her cheek, then leans in and plants a small kiss on it. "Take it easy, Freddie."
She smiles at her darling friend. "I will, Andrew. Thank you." Carter leaves and waves to her as he exits. "He's such a sweet boy."
Newkirk smiles. "Yeah," he says, "he's a good man. He cares alot about you."
"I care about him, too. And the other fellas." Freddie snuggles into Newkirk's chest. "But I don't love them as much as you."
"I don't either," he says with a gentle squeeze. Freddie starts to laugh, but hurts herself. He lays a hand on her ribs and says, "I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have done that."
"No, it's alright. Laughter is a wonderful medicine." And with one hand on her ribs and the other clutching Newkirk's sweater, Freddie reaches up and kisses him on the mouth. "Just think of it, darlin'. We've got a lifetime of being sick together and makin' one another feel better."
Newkirk looks down at his injured sweetheart. "Yeah," he whispers with a smile. His fingertips gently brush her blond locks away from her eyes so that he can look deep into them. "My body almost melts in a furious fever every time you're near me. My skin dances with your tender touch. And I think it's going to stay that way for a long, long time." He kisses her softly, trying not to get himself too excited. He wants her in the worst way, but he knows that she's not physically well enough to make love.
"Peter," she asks, "are you doing anything today?"
"No. Why?"
"Well," she says as she moves herself closer to his shoulder. "I was wonderin' if maybe you could stay with me. I normally wouldn't ask, but I don't feel too terrific right now and I just... wanna be close to you."
Newkirk smiles as his love's request. "You needn't explain, darlin'. Of course, I'll stay with you." He leans down and kisses Freddie on the mouth again.
"Thank you, liebchen." She lays her head down on his shoulder and turns her face towards his chest. "Can you say more sweet and wonderful things to me?"
He laughs a little. "Like what kind of sweet things?"
"Oh, I don't know. Anything. Just as long as I can hear that deep, soothing voice of yours."
Newkirk smiles. "Oooh, I see. Would you like to hear more about what you do to me?"
Freddie smiles and puts an arm across his chest. "Yeah." Newkirk puts his other arm around her and holds her close.
"Did I ever tell you that I fell madly in love the first time I layed eyes on you?"
"No. No, you didn't." She rubs her hand over his chest, feeling his chest rise and fall as he breathes. "I wish I could've fallen for you that quickly. I guess I was too wrapped up in the assignment to notice you. I'm not sure if I believe in love at first sight."
"Really?" Newkirk's a little surprised.
"Don't misunderstand me, Peter. You know that I love you. Just look at the shape I'm in. What I meant was that I wasn't looking for love when we met. Yet there was something about you that I didn't see in the other men in camp." She touches his lips with her fingers, sliding them down to stroke his chin. "Silly as it may sound, I finally realized I was in love when you and I got into that rather explosive row. And it was after that I found myself thinking about you all the time. I should have known I was in love with you when you were the first thing I thought of when my eyes opened, and the last thought through my mind before my eyes closed."
Newkirk grins as he looks her body over. "Do you still think of me like that?"
"Oh, yes. Maybe even more so." Freddie smiles briefly, then her gaze turns serious. "I have such a deep, insane love for you that it bogles my mind." Freddie plays with his long brown sideburns, making him close his eyes with her touch. "I'm positively mad for you."
"And I for you." Still laying on his side and facing her, he touches his nose to the outer edge of her ear and whispers, "I've never been closer to madness than when I'm makin' love to you."
Freddie says very calmly, "I know."
"I love losin' control of myself," he continues to whisper. "You know exactly how to shut off the world and turn me into a ravin' love-sick lunitic. And I never want that insanity to end."
"It won't, love," she says. "Not as long as you and I need one another." Newkirk holds her a little tighter and kisses her ear tenderly.
"God, Freddie. I wish I could go insane right now."
Freddie reaches up and brings his face down to hers. "Why don't you?" Before he can answer her, she seals his mouth with hers, her tongue in a mad rush to find his. For a few moments, time stops as he lets her explore his mouth. Newkirk lets out a few quick moans of delight before he backs away.
"Maybe this isn't a good idea," he says regretfully. "I'm really... in the mood, but-"
"So am I," she discloses as her lips move to his neck.
"I don't wanna hurt you."
She smiles and whispers, "Then don't say no." Newkirk looks down into her burning blue eyes and sees that she does, in fact, want him also. As he looks deep and long into her soul, he touches her face, letting his index finger trapse across her lips. She playfully bites at it, even letting it fall partially into her mouth. Freddie starts to slowly suck on his fingertip.
"Oh, Freddie," he whispers hoarsely. Newkirk retrieves his finger gently and watches Freddie lick it, but quickly replaces it with his tongue. He glides his smooth and wet mouth muscle between her lips and sucks gently on her tongue. "Lemme heal you, darlin'."
"Yes," she gasps as his mouth runs wild over her neck.
"Slowly, gently," he says breathlessly. Freddie closes her eyes and sighs.
"Ja, bitte (Yes, please)..." Newkirk almost loses his faculties altogether as she speaks in her native language, almost rolling over on top of her. She pushes him back and says, "No, you'll break my ribs again." He lays on his back and looks over at her as she carefully rolls herself on top of him. "That's better," she says, wincing a little.
"I don't know," he says as he watches her face wrinkle with pain. He steadily rolls her off of him and onto her back beside him. "It's not worth hurting you."
Freddie sighs with disappointment. "You're right." She flexes her jaw and looks away from him. Newkirk knows she's mad; this is usually her way of letting someone know she's angry. "Damn it, Peter. I want you. Desperately."
"I want you, too." He lays down next to her and puts his mouth close to her ear. "But you're lucky. You won't be walkin' around with crowded underwear for the next week." Freddie laughs, but stops abruptly and holds her mid-section. "I'm sorry."
"I love you twice as much when you make me laugh," she says as she rubs her ribs. Without being asked, Newkirk moves his body down to her waist and kisses her belly through her shirt. He slowly looks up at her, only to see her looking back at him with approval. Freddie winds her fingers in his hair as she lets him continue to kiss her abdomen. His careful fingers reach for the buttons on her shirt. "Be gentle," she asks softly.
"Like a whisper, my love," he replies. Newkirk gingerly opens the bottom four buttons and tosses the shirt open. Next, he lifts Freddie's undershirt to expose her bruised skin. With the gentleness of a dove, he presses his warm lips against her bare stomach, sending a jolt of pleasure up her spine. Again, Freddie tangles her fingers in his hair as she lets out a long sigh.
"I think I'm beginning to feel better," she moans.
"I'm not done yet," he warns. Newkirk gets up out and walks around to the foot end of the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. He removes his short blue waist coat and tosses it on the top bunk. Then he proceeds to slowly and seductively take off his gray turtleneck sweater, letting it join his jacket in a heap above. He manually moves Freddie's legs apart slightly and crawls between them until he is face to face with her stomach. He rests upon his elbows as his hands caress her wrapped ribs. Newkirk starts to gracefully kiss her flat stomach, even letting his teeth scrape sensuously across her skin.
"That feels so good, Peter," Freddie moans again. "Do it some more." Newkirk looks up from his work and gives her a reassuring smirk, then resumes. He lets his tongue come out to dance upon her skin, and her body jumps from the sensation. She could feel his mouth drawing on her.
"I wanna mark you, Fredricha."
"Yes, my darling." With her permission, he works the button on her pants free and starts to suck sweetly on a small area just to the right of her navel. His hands slide carefully around her bandaged ribcage, just grazing the bottoms of her bosoms. Freddie holds onto his hands as he continues to draw on her flesh. He hums with enjoyment, the vibration of his happy mouth sending a pleasurable buzz throughout her body. "Don't stop," she whispers.
Unfortunately, Hogan does just that. He opens the door to barracks #4 and sees the two lovebirds deeply engrossed in their activities.
"Geez," says Hogan with a smirk on his face. "Don't you two ever get tired? There's a war going on, you know." Newkirk slowly stands up next to the bed while Freddie tries to sit up.
"Sorry, sir," says Newkirk.
Hogan smiles. "Don't worry about it." He looks at Freddie. "How are your ribs feeling?"
"Fine, Colonel. Thank you."
"Good," says the colonel. "Would it be alright if I barrowed your bed warmer for a moment? I promise to bring him back."
"Uh," starts Newkirk, "I'm afraid not, sir. I'm currently... indisposed."
"Indisposed?"
"On a mission, sir," adds the Englishman.
"What kind of mission?"
Newkirk looks at Freddie, who is looking back just as confused as Hogan. "A mission of mercy. I'm tending to a wounded comrade, sir." Freddie sits up as much as she can without hurting herself again.
"Peter, if the colonel needs you, go with him. I'll be alright here."
He turns to her. "But you asked me to stay."
"Corporal," she says in her quiet sergeant's voice, "if you're needed, you go."
"Freddie-"
Hogan interupts. "Hold it, hold it. It's alright, Newkirk. I'll ask one of the others to go. It's no big deal." He smiles. "I don't wanna start a fight."
Freddie asks, "What was the assignment, sir?"
Hogan leans on the doorframe as he explains. "Someone has to meet a contact in town and pick up directions to ball bearing plant. London wants it destroyed as soon as possible."
Trying to sit up more, she says, "Maybe I can go, sir-"
"Nothin' doin'," protests Hogan. "You've got enough on your plate right now. You stay here and heal those ribs as fast as you can. And that's an order."
Freddie surrenders. "Yes, sir." Hogan smiles at the two of them before he leaves. Freddie almost looks disappointed at her lover. "Peter, why didn't you go?"
As he lays down again, Newkirk says, "I told you. You asked me to stay with you today, so I'm stayin'." He puts a naked arm around her and pulls her into his chest. "The war will just have to go on without me. It's not as important as you."
Freddie sets her hand on his chest, rubbing it back and forth. "You're crazy. Do you know that?"
"Yes. But you made me that way."
She laughs. "Oh, sure. Blame it on me." Newkirk laughs with her and puts his free hand in her hair as he holds her head to his chest. As he rests his cheek on her head, he looks at her blond waves as they curl and wrap around his fingers, then he notices a small spot of dried blood.
"Man, you got belted good, didn't ya. Your hair's almost looks brown right there."
"Oh. Did the blood color it a little?"
"Yeah." Then he gets an idea. "Hang on, love." He carefully sets her down and gets out of bed. He goes to the table and starts to move it towards the sink, propping one end up on the lip of the basin. Newkirk returns to Freddie and bends down to pick her up. "Nobody's going to color your beautiful hair."
"Peter, what are you doing?" she asks as he lifts her out of bed and carries her over to the table.
"I'm gonna wash you up." He kisses her lips as he sets her down with her head near the sink. He brushes her hair towards the sink while resting her head in his hand. Next, he picks up her tin cup and fills it up with water and drenches her hair. "Relax, love. I've gotcha." Freddie smiles and closes her eyes. Newkirk continues to pour water over her hair, sending a warm calm through her body even though the water is cold. "I can't wait 'til I can do this to you every night."
Her eyes open slowly. "Oh, me too. Just you and me sittin' in a warm bath... washing each other..."
He clears his throat. "Stop it, darlin'. I'm gonna get aroused again." They both laugh. His fingers gently massage the dried plasma from her hair, letting the tiny clumps fall into the sink.
"You know," Freddie says, "I feel like Frankenstein's monster layin' here."
"All stretched out and waitin' for a brain?"
She smiles wide and nudges him. "Cheeky." He stops pouring and gently wrings out her hair, squeezing all the water down to the end and letting it drip into the basin. Next he pulls the ragged towel from the nail on the wall and begins drying her hair.
"Let me know if I hurt you," he says. All Freddie can do is lie there with her eyes closed and grin like a fool. Newkirk sponges out most of the water and drapes the towel on the edge of the sink before he picks her up in his arms again. "Come on, my pretty patient. Back to bed with ya."
"Alright, but only if you curl up with me and keep me warm." Newkirk sets her down on her rack and slides into bed next to her, pulling a blanket over them both as he props his head up on one hand.
"I bet you'll warm me up first," he says as he leans in and kisses her. "I think my temperature goes up about 100 degrees everytime we kiss."
"Yeah?" she asks with a smile. "Well, why don't we see if we can create spontanious human combustion." She pulls him down and kisses him deeply. He wraps his arms around her and carefully rests against her shoulder and upper chest. His passion for her steadily increases with every heated pass of their tongues. His right hand comes off of her waist and creeps up underneath her shirt. His soft fingers come to rest upon her breast and begin to gently knead it. Newkirk swallows Freddie's pleasureful moan and lets his soul digest it, but reality stops him.
"Freddie love," he says quietly, "this is killin' me."
"What is?"
"All I can do is touch you." He tenderly pinches her nipple in the web between his thumb and forefinger.
"You're doing alot more than that," she growls. "Come on," she pleads, "let's forget about my injury and make love."
Newkirk is weighing the situation carefully in his mind. He's fighting the powerful urge to please her intimately as well as keeping her from getting hurt any further. "Please, darlin'. This isn't easy." He pulls his hand from under her shirt, looks in her eyes, and sees that she understands, as difficult as it may be. He runs his fingers along her jaw and says, "As soon as a doctor clears you," -he puts his lips to her ear- "we'll go out for the evening and I'll make love to you all night long."
Freddie looks down at her abdomen and says, "You hear that? Hurry up and heal!" Newkirk laughs at her, both for being funny and for being a good sport. He rolls off of her and lays on his side.
"Of course you do know that after an all-nighter with you, I'll need a doctor."
Freddie laughs as much as she can. "You will not! You're as strong as a rock."
"Even rocks break, sweetheart." They both have a hand on each other, just to let other one know that they're there. Freddie's eyes brighten with discovery.
"Peter, go to my locker and get out that red tin box," she says as she sits up. Newkirk gets out of bed and fetches the box just like she asked. Pawing through her precious love letters, she pulls out a small green velvet case. "I was going to give this to you on your birthday," she says, "but I think you should have it now."
"What is it?" he asks softly as he accepts the box.
"Open it," she says with a warm smile. Newkirk grins slightly as he opens the small box. Inside is a silver chain with a medal of St. Peter the Apostle on it. He's speechless. "Happy Birthday, Peter."
"Thank you," he says. He takes the necklace out and looks at it. "Where... how did you get this?"
"I bought it from a priest in town after one of our assignments. You know, he moved his entire congregation underground to avoid persecution by the Nazis." Her words pass through his ears without sinking in. He is touched by her gift.
"It's... it's beautiful." Freddie smiles as she takes it from him and puts it around his neck.
"There ya are. It's real silver, too. I would have bought you a gold one, but he didn't have any." Newkirk takes the medal in his hands and thinks for a moment.
"St. Peter, huh? Is that because he share the same name?"
"Sort of. He is the patron Saint of people named Peter, but he was said to have been the 'rock' that Jesus was going to build the Church on. Kind of like a cornerstone." She touches his face. "So you see, love. Some rocks never break." She kisses him ever so mildly. "You are my rock. The one that I'll build my life on." Newkirk takes her hands in his.
"I hope I can be just as strong for you, love."
A smile appears on her face. "You haven't let me down yet." He leans in and kisses her again.
"You know," he says, "I've been blessed with many good things in my life. My family, my friends. But none of those things are as special to me as your love. God gave me your hand to hold, and I took it. And I'll never let go." Again, he kisses her. "I love you, Fredricha von Raffschneider."
"And I love you, Peter Newkirk." They kiss again before he leans back and pulls her down into his arms. He drapes a blanket over them both, rewraps his arms around Freddie, and they both slowly drift off to sleep.