FIC: A Dream That Could Not Last 10 of 12 (Ryan/Simon, Amanda/Carly, Kimberley/Anwar)

[jlh]

Author: Clio
Title: A Dream That Could Not Last Chapter 10 of 12: It Happened One Night
Pairing: American Idol: Ryan Seacrest/Simon Cowell, Amanda Overmyer/Carly Smithson, Kimberley Locke/Anwar Robinson
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter Summary: Simon throws a party. Drama ensues.
Chapter Length: 8500 words
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: A Dream That Could Not Last is an AU romantic comedy set in 1939 London, when everyone knew war was on the horizon but no one was sure when or how it would arrive-which made love of all kinds that much more important. Follow a year in the life of three groups of (mostly) Americans: pilots who joined the RAF, singers and dancers in a swing music revue, and reporters for BBC Radio. As usual there will be plenty of songs along the way to set the mood.
This was a big undertaking, and needed a team. If I was the writer/director, then locumtenens was my editor, lillijulianne, musicforcylons and evil_erato my producers, dana_kujan the actually helpful studio executive; and ali_wildgoose my executive producer who kept the train on the tracks in ways so numerous I cannot list them here.

Prologue | 1: The Lady Eve | 2: Adam's Rib | 3: His Girl Friday | 4: Bringing Up Baby | 5: Stella Dallas | 6: Pursuits of Happiness | 7: Gaslight | 8: The Philadelphia Story | 9: Contesting Tears


Chapter Ten: It Happened One Night
19 October 1940

Ryan was very glad that he'd spent Friday night in his own flat in his own bed.  Carly and Amanda had gone to Carly's flat, so there was no need to make room for them, and Simon-well, Simon in planning mode was not something Ryan wanted to be around for long periods of time.  He was just glad that Simon had hired maids and caterers, so he wouldn't be tempted to order Chris and Blake about making preparations for the party he was throwing in Bill and Guiliana's honor. Ryan himself, he knew, would receive no such courtesy.  And so he hid.

Not that he was alone.  Cook had stayed over, which pleased Joel; that relationship Ryan didn't quite understand but it seemed to work for them.  Actually, Ryan admired Cook's ability to juggle Joel and Kelly without the lady being any the wiser.  Then again, that lady was blowing hot and cold with such frequency that perhaps she wasn't paying the closest attention to what Cook was up to.  There had been some discussion about whether to invite Kelly to Simon's little party, but Kim had vouched for her and Cook wanted to see her, so she was in.  Joel had invited two of the chorus girls to amuse him; Gina and Haley seemed like a handful but that handful would keep Joel from mooning over Cook, so Ryan was all for that.  Randy was coming, of course, and Lythgoe, and Ryan didn't doubt that those two and Simon would end up holding court in some corner, keeping the scotch hostage.  It was up in the air whether Jen would show up; she was in tight with the band, with her carrying on with the Smith cousins, and her presence at the other party would probably keep them from burning the house down or something similarly unwise.  But Ryan hoped she would show, because she was so much fun to gossip with and Ryan loved hearing all the ins and outs of the band and their admirers.

And then, after a lovely egg breakfast with Cook and Joel, Ryan changed into an old sweater, put his party clothes into his case, squared his shoulders, and went off to Simon's flat like a big boy.

Simon answered the door, already sounding harried.  "One moment!" he shouted, and there was some noise, and then he opened the door.  But seeing it was Ryan, his demeanor changed.  "Hello," he purred, smiling.

"All right," Ryan said, walking into the room, "what needs to be done."

"Not much actually," Simon said, shutting the door and then standing just behind Ryan and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"You sounded pretty busy just now," Ryan said, feeling Simon nuzzling his throat.  "What's got into you?"

"You in that jumper," Simon answered.

"Jumper? Oh, the sweater. Why?"

Simon ran his hands along Ryan's shoulders.  "You have a lovely torso."

Ryan smiled.  "I think you asked everyone to wear sweaters to this party so you could lust over them."

"No," Simon said innocently.  "I just wanted my guests to be comfortable, and the airmen out of uniform.  Forget things for a while."

"Uh-huh.  Not, be surrounded by fit young flyboys in clinging sweaters, not you."

Simon snickered.  "Jealous?"

"Nope."

"Anyway, the girls will be wearing jumpers, too, and theirs cling more."

"If you say so."  Ryan leaned back in Simon's arms.  "Are the fellas still here?"

"No.  They went to buy clothes for the party.  Apparently Chris doesn't trust Blake to dress himself."

"Ah.  When does the maid arrive?"

"In about an hour."

"The caterers?"

"They'll drop off the food just before the party," Simon replied, nibbling at Ryan's ear.

"Jeez, Simon, we spend one night apart and you're all over me."

Ryan could feel Simon shrug.  "Got used to seeing you."

"You mean fucking me," Ryan said.

"Not just that," he replied, "but that too, yes."

Ryan sighed.

"I'm sure it will soothe my nerves," Simon said, running one large hand across Ryan's chest.

"Mmm, well, I'll have to take another shower before the party anyway," Ryan said, and turned in Simon's arms to kiss him.

"You're sure this looks all right?" Robinson asked again, smoothing down the front of his deep blue sweater.

"Would I come to this party with you if you looked a mess?" Kim asked.

Robinson shrugged.  "Guess I'm not used to being out of uniform.  Never was a real snappy dresser in college."

"Neither was I," Kim said, "not until I was a singer."

"Well, that orange sweater sure becomes you," he said.

Kim thought the scoop-necked sweater that Carly and Jen had encouraged her to buy was a bit too clingy, but she was among friends.  It also brought new life to her favorite brown plaid skirt, and made her feel appropriately autumnal.  "Thank you," she said with an incline of her head.

The elevator stopped and as they emerged into the hall they could hear the music from the party.

Joel answered the door, wearing his usual manic grin.  "Hey!" he called out.  "Come on in!  Have a cocktail."  He offered them a tray of highball glasses.  "I'll take your coats. There's sandwiches and little things in the kitchen."

They each took a glass and walked into the main room, a large square room with windows on one end that looked out over the square.  To one side was the dining room and beyond that, the kitchen; to the other, the hallway that led to the bedrooms.  "Oh, this is gorgeous," Kim said, running her finger along the inlaid veneer patters of a lacquered sideboard.  "What a lovely apartment."  She looked around and nearly everyone was already there.  Cook, Kelly, and Jen were in one corner, and Kim was mildly surprised to see George Huff with them, though the party the band was throwing that night was surely not going to be his sort of thing.  Amanda and Carly were on a settee, talking with Ryan who was perched on the arm.  Ruben seemed to be having some sort of serious conversation with Chris Richardson.  Blake was laughing and dancing a bit with Gina and Haley and Joel, who'd followed them into the room.  Simon was hustling Mandisa out of the kitchen, scolding her for getting her hands dirty at someone else's party; Kim watched him take a drink, place it firmly into her hand, and steer her toward Randy, who was talking to Nigel Lythgoe.

Robinson stood stiffly next to Kim as he looked over the room.  "I'll tell you what," he said, "I've never been much for at parties.  I might not leave your side."

Kim looked up at him and smiled, she hoped reassuringly, and put one hand on his elbow.  "That's just fine by me," she said, "but I think you know everyone here already.  Look, there's small David by the phonograph."

As they walked over, small David looked up to see them approach.  "Robinson!" he said, extending his hand.  He was wearing an argyle sweater in various shades of green with an open-necked shirt and trousers.  Kim could scarcely believe he was eighteen, but he did look collegiate.  Next to him was his sweetheart, Diana DeGarmo, pretty in a pink sweater and grey tweed skirt.

"Hello, Archie," Robinson replied, using the airmen's nickname.  "How is Cambridge?"

"Super," he replied.  "Even got the fellas up there calling me 'Archie' too!  But I wish I was still flying with you."

Robinson shook his head.  "Now, you made a deal.  I saw you shake on it."

Small David sighed.  "Yeah, I guess."

Robinson turned to Kim.  "Lt. Cook made Archie here promise not to join up until we Americans come in for real."  To Archie he said, "Plenty of time for that later."

"Yes, plenty of time," said Diana, taking his hand.

"All right Diana.  Jeez."

"And you, Miss DeGarmo?" Kim asked.  "You're here in London?"

"Yes," she replied.  "I'm studying literature at University College."

"She wants to be a lady reporter," Archie said.

Kim smiled.  "Well I think we need a lot more of those," she said.

The music wound down then, and Gina made a beeline for them.  "C'mon, Arch," she said.  "Play somethin' peppy so we can dance!"

"I dunno," he replied, "Simon's awful careful about his furniture."

"Aw, we're not going to Lindy if that's what you're thinking," she said.  "Just a little hoochie-coochie, you know, for the boys."  She shook her shoulders illustratively, then elbowed Diana.  "We can teach your girl here," she said, grinning.

"Gina, really," Kim said.  "She's just a kid."

Gina shrugged.  "Not much younger than I was when I started," she said, "but I just meant shake it for her fella here.  I saw you two cutting the rug at the Glenn Miller concert.  You're all right."

"Thanks," Diana said, flushing.

"Seems to me," Robinson said, "aren't many fellas here that would appreciate your 'hoochie-coochie' anyways."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," she said.  "These nancy boys, they like a pretty girl showing herself off.  And they're not grabby:  the perfect customer!   Besides, there are certainly some girls looking my way."  She winked and tipped her head at Amanda, who was looking like Hepburn or Dietrich in her woolen slacks and boxy sweater.  "So play some hot jazz, brother," she said.

Small David had just started going through the pile of 78s in their brown paper wrappers when there was another commotion at the door.

"Ah!" Simon said, walking through the room.  "Our guests of honor!"

Giuliana and Bill came in from the hall, and all the various groups broke up as folks walked over to wish them well.

"There's a distraction from the hoochie-coochie," Robinson muttered.

Kim shook her head.  "Knowing Gina, not for long."

"No?" Robinson asked.

"The other dancers talked up the band party all week, but Gina and Haley promised Joel, and they couldn't exactly brag about how they got on this exclusive list, could they? I think she wants to make this party as eventful as that one will be. Even if she has to do it single-handedly."

"Hmm." Robinson considered this, looking at the crowd around Giuliana and Bill. Kim knew him well enough by now to wait, and she stood sipping her drink. "Well, I'm sure Overmyer can handle her. And eventful isn't always bad, right?"

"I hope not," Kim replied.

Ryan hadn't been to a party like this since he left Hollywood-and by "like this" he meant, "at which I can kiss my boyfriend on the cheek."  Sure, there were nights out at carefully vetted clubs, but other than that, this love affair was a private one, almost as private as the one he'd had with David.  Though that was the only way in which they bore any resemblance.

He walked down the hall, wondering what happened to Joel and hoping he wasn't sulking someplace, when there he was, standing near the spare bedroom door.  Seeing him, Joel put a finger to his lips, then pointed through the door.  Ryan stopped, just on the other side of the door; peeking in, he saw Cook and Kelly sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed.

"No, I reckon I don't understand," Cook was saying.  "You want me around, then you don't.  If you really want to get rid of me, I'll skedaddle.  Just say the word."

"That isn't what I want either," Kelly said, and her voice wavered.

Cook sighed.  "Then what do you want?"

"I want there to not be this war!" Kelly replied.

"Can't do anything about that," Cook said.  "I know I might not come back but while we're together-"

"No, it isn't even that."  She sighed.

"It isn't-but if it isn't about me dying, what could it be?" He took her hand in his and said, tenderly, "Just tell me."

Kelly had her head down, staring at the floor, and was quiet for a good minute.  Then she started speaking again, soft and slow.  "I only remember a couple of things from before Daddy left; I was pretty little.  But he laughed a lot, and we played games.  It was like he was sunshine in the room."

"So that's where you get it," Cook said.

"Yeah, kinda," Kelly said, smiling a little at him.  "But when he came back, man, I remember that.  I was five and had just started school and I came home one day and there he was.  And he looked like his picture, but he didn't look like he did when I closed my eyes?  That's when I realized, he wasn't smiling.  He came back, but he was shell shocked."

"Oh, Kelly."

"After a while, he could have fun sometimes, but other times, he might have a hard night, especially if there was a storm, and the next day he'd be so tired.  He'd say, 'I'm sorry Kelly, Daddy can't play today' and finally I just stopped asking. Sometimes he'd get real mad at stupid things and Mama would yell at him to go outside and calm down.  And in tornado weather, he hated coming into the storm cellar.  He'd stand outside until the last minute.  Made Mama worry something awful." She shook her head. "I'm just glad we had the farm-if he couldn't work outside?  And on his own schedule?  If he was in a factory or an office with a boss watching him?  He wouldn't have been able to work.  I don't know how Mama did it.  Sometimes it was too much even for her and she'd take us all to her sister's for a week or so.  I felt so sorry for Daddy, being alone and unhappy and not being able to help how he was."

"Kelly-"

"So Cook, you know I really care for you-I've never met anyone like you-but if you came back like that, I don't know if I could take it.  And I won't make a promise to you I can't keep."

Another silence, and Ryan looked up at Joel, who was staring down at the floor, shaking his head.

At last Cook said, "We don't know what's gonna happen.  I think we should just hold on to now and let the future take care of itself.  I appreciate what you're saying, about promises; you're a lady with integrity, and that, well I'm just gonna say it, that's one thing that makes me love you, Kelly.  But I've already seen some pretty terrible things, things that give me nightmares sometimes, and I think I'm doing okay.  You know, I've had fellas shooting at me, trying to kill me, I'm trying to kill them, and sometimes you can see their faces, and they can see yours, and you're still shooting at them.  I know it can get worse; none of my buddies have died and I know that's coming.  But I'm doing all right so far."  He stopped, and there was a little rustling.  "Dy'a think you can take a chance?  Maybe just try, with me?"

Kelly sighed, and she sounded a little teary.  "I want to," she said.

"Well," Cook said.  "Let's start with that.  That sounds real good."

Joel moved quickly past the slightly open door, so Cook and Kelly couldn't see, though Ryan suspected that Cook knew that Joel had been there.  Once they were out of earshot Ryan whispered, "Sounds like you lost a lover."

Joel shrugged.  "My ass was starting to get sore anyway.  Damn, how can you do that all the time?"

Ryan looked over at Simon, who was standing with Randy and Nigel, and just laughed.  "It's worth it," he said.

Carly and Giuliana were standing near the bar chatting.  "Can I get you ladies a drink?"  Ryan asked.

At their nods, Joel said "I'll do it," and stepped behind the bar.

"We were just talking about moving to the States," Giuliana said.

"Both of you?" Ryan asked.

"I hear there are opportunities there," Carly said.

"While I'm sure that Simon would hate to lose you, as would the BBC, it could be a great challenge for you. Much more room for advancement in the States."

Carly shrugged.  "I'm just thinking about it for now," she said. "No decisions yet!"

"Well, if you want to put together an air check," Ryan said, "I'd be happy to make sure it gets to the right people.  Only I don't know what the immigration circumstances are; with Giuliana here, it's easy.  But it can't hurt to try."

"I think we could use more girl engineers in the States," Joel said.

"That's woman producer to you, mister!" Carly said, poking him in the shoulder.

"Ow!" Joel said, grabbing her finger.  As they wrestled he asked Giuliana, "So you kids set a date yet?"

"November 14th," she replied.  "Papa says the dress will be finished next week."

"Your father makes dresses?" Ryan asked.

"No, but a friend of his is here in London, and he asked her to make it for us.  The wedding will be quite small but you all will be there, yes?"

"Of course," Carly said.

"And then we leave a week later.  Bill wants to have Thanksgiving with his people."

"I'm sure," Joel said.

Ryan winced.  They'd only agreed to a year's stay in London, but with the war truly starting he wasn't sure how long they'd be here.  And the Atlantic was thick with u-boats-too dangerous to go home often.  But Ryan thought perhaps Christmas in the states was called for.  He wondered if Simon would want to come, too.  Maybe they could find David and bring small David along, and all meet in Atlanta for a big ridiculous family holiday.  Or even, he could host it himself in Los Angeles.

Realizing he'd been lost in thought he tuned back into the conversation.  "What were you saying about Miss DeGarmo?"

"Papa wants to bring her with us to Chicago," Giuliana said.  "Her people are there and in New York.  She was only staying in London for small David's sake."

Ryan nodded.  "Depending on the US, that might be moot," he said.  "I think '41's the year."

Joel shook his head.  "You said that about this year, too."

Ryan shrugged.  "Has to happen some time."

"Anytime is too soon for me," Simon said, coming up behind Ryan.  "Now you promised no war talk!" he added, wagging a finger.

Ryan smiled.  "Sorry," he said, and gave Simon a kiss on the temple.

Simon was sitting at his dining table with Randy and Ruben, sipping some very good Scotch.  Nigel had gone home; it was getting rather late and Nigel's all-night drinking days were behind him since he'd become management.  But Simon and Randy were old hands, and truth be told, Randy wanted to postpone going back to the house and seeing what the band was up to for as long as possible.  Ruben, however, had some good news to celebrate.

"Can you believe it?" he said.  "That rich white boy giving me his money?  Uh, no offense Mr. Cowell."

"Please, it's Simon," he said.  "And none taken."

"Simon.  But I told him, I said, 'Richardson, this is a loan, now you shake my hand, because I'm going to pay back every last cent.'  And he looked me right in the eye and he said, 'I have no doubt of that, Mr. Studdard.'  And we shook hands and that was that."  He looked up to see Mandisa walking over to the table.  "Hey baby, c'mere."

"I was just telling the girls!" Mandisa said, sitting down next to her husband.  "I'm so excited.  We're going to bring some real southern hospitality your way."

Ruben gestured to the nearby kitchen.  "Go on, Mandisa, get yourself some ice and join us."

"With your cooking, Mrs. Studdard," Randy said, "and Ruben, well, Simon, Ruben knows just about everybody there is to know."

"I was a bouncer for a long time," Ruben said, nodding.

"And once the GI's start coming over, when we get into the war proper?" Randy said.  "Man, you'll be rolling in it!  I just have one request."

"Name it," Ruben said.

"You'll let me sign up for another year?"

Ruben grinned, but Simon held up his hand.  "No more talk of war or business tonight, gentlemen."  He held up his glass.  "To Ruben and Mandisa Studdard, new owners of the Pyramid Club.  May you have all the success you deserve."

"Amen to that," Randy said, clinking glasses with the couple.

As they drank, Simon heard a ruckus from the other room, as the music suddenly got livelier-Benny Goodman if he wasn't mistaken.  He leaned back in his chair to look into the living room.

Haley and Gina had been dancing for much of the evening-well, they were dancers after all-and often for the amusement of one of the gay lads, or Joel, who was a particular friend of theirs.  However, Simon had also noticed a little bit of an edge to their interactions, and suspected that there had been some lovers' spat at some earlier point; he'd meant to check on this with Jen, reliable source of all revue gossip, but the opportunity hadn't presented itself.  Haley apparently had decided to best Gina by climbing up onto the coffee table and doing some sort of frantic shimmy-shake in her barely-there dress for the benefit of Chris, Blake and Amanda, who sat on the couch.

Gina stood, scowling, then swallowed the rest of her drink and set the glass down on one of the occasional tables with a thump.  She walked right over to the couch, right in front of Haley, and to the rhythm of the Gene Krupa drum solo, began to shake her shoulders like a much lower class sort of dancer.  Amanda was in the middle of the couch and was getting the benefit of most of this show, but there wasn't much room between the table and the couch, so Gina first straddled, then sat in, Amanda's lap.

"Uh oh," Randy said.

Simon wasn't sure if Amanda was simply drunk, or not really thinking, but as Gina settled into her lap, with Chris and Blake looking on with growing alarm, Amanda put her hands on the girls back to steady her.  And then, unmistakably, those hands moved from Gina's back to cup her rear.

The song ended then, and Gina threw her hands up into the air.  Suddenly from the side of the room came Carly, almost flying across the floor to pluck Gina out of her girlfriend's lap.  "No you bloody don't," she shouted, and Simon was very glad indeed that his downstairs neighbors were in the country for the weekend.

"Hey!" Gina said.

Haley, still standing on the coffee table, pushed Carly.  "Don't you touch her!" she shouted back.

Then there was a lot of very sudden movement.  He was sure he'd never seen either Joel or Ruben move so quickly, but all at once Ruben had Gina to one side of the room and Joel had Carly on the other.  George had stepped in, too, pulling Haley down off the table, and Chris and Blake were keeping Amanda on the couch, but not without a struggle.

"Right," Simon said, stepping more fully into the sitting room.  "Neutral corners I think."

The tableau dispersed.  Kim, Giuliana and Joel lead Carly into one of the back bedrooms, and Gina and Haley were released and stood in the corner.

"I'll make some coffee," Mandisa said, moving off into the kitchen.

Jen, meanwhile, was talking to the two dancers.  "I know you two have been trying to start something all night," she scolded, "but there's no call to bring these nice girls into it, is there?  And in this nice house?  You call that classy?  I'm ashamed to see it."

"C'mon, Jen," Gina said.  "It's not like you haven't-"

Jen turned and thrust her finger into Gina's face.  "Whatever I have or haven't done, I never brought other people into the fight.  That's against the rules.  And I didn't do it in a friend's apartment!  Look at you two, dancing on the tables, sitting on her lap.  For shame.  Now, you are going to apologize, and then George and I will bring you back to the house."

Gina and Haley looked sulky, but cowed by Jen's scolding they muttered apologies to the room.

"And you're going to go apologize to Carly, too.  Now as for you," Jen went on, pointing at Amanda, "you'd better be careful.  Carly thinks the world of you-she's nearly out of her mind with worry-and this is how you pay her back?"

"But-" Amanda began.

"Yeah, but is right.  As in, if any man of mine had his hands on another girl's buttright in front of me the way you just did to Carly?  He'd be groveling to earn his right to touch my butt ever again."  She turned back to Gina and Haley.  "Come on now.  You coming, George?"

"Right behind you, Jennifer."  As they walked off into the hall George shook his head, chuckling a little to himself.  Chris then dragged Amanda into the dining room with Blake and Robinson following closely behind.

Simon looked about the room, then said, "Well, it isn't a real party unless a fight breaks out, yeah?"

Carly was pacing the room, white with fury.  "How many times?" she said.  "Waitresses, coat check girls, and I just thought that's her way, she's on that dreadful base all day, she doesn't have other girls like us as friends, if she isn't careful it's because she needs to blow off steam."  She clenched her fist.  "I should have known.  After that first day, with Giuliana, I should have known.  And she's never changed."

Joel tried to soothe her by standing behind her and rubbing her shoulders but she shrugged him off.  "Carly, come on.  Amanda cares for you."

"Yes, but not exclusively.  She always has an eye out; she's always ready to flirt.  If I'd wanted that, I'd be going with men!  Um, no offense."

Joel shrugged.

"But she never touched them before!  I know I'm no glamour girl, but-"

"I think you're beautiful," Joel said.

"Thank you," Carly replied.

The door opened then, and Jen and George shuffled in two contrite dancers.  Gina in particular was staring at the floor.

Carly turned, saw the girls, and lunged at Gina again; George and Joel just about stopped her.

"You bitch-if you want to dance, dance for Joel, I don't care.  But if I see you near her again-"

Jen nudged Gina who said, "I'm sorry!  Fine, I'm sorry, all right?  I let it go too far."

"And you," Carly said to Haley, "you're no better."

Haley nodded.  "I'm sorry, too," she said.

"All right, let's go home now," Jen said.  "Kim, I'll see you later on."  The four left the room.

Chris stood in the corner of the dining room, smoking, ominously silent.  Amanda sat at the table, Robinson next to her, and ran her finger along the curves of a scotch bottle that sat in front of her.  Blake was sitting opposite, closer to Chris, and offered Amanda one of his Luckies, which she accepted.  She drummed her fingers on the table and wished he'd just say it already, so she could apologize and get it over with.

Then suddenly, he spoke.  "Damnit, Amanda!"

"What?" Amanda asked.  "I didn't do anything … much."

"Yeah, you never do anything much," he said, "because you always do exactly what you want-which is just enough to cause trouble."

Blake put one hand on Chris's arm.  "You don't have to do this now-"

"No," Chris said, "I think I do."

Mrs. Studdard came in carrying a tray with a big pot of coffee and several cups, and set it on the table.  "I don't think you need this, honey," she said to Amanda, taking away the bottle of scotch and replacing it with a cup of coffee.  "Anyone else?"

Chris raised his hand, as did Robinson, and as she poured those cups Ryan came into the room.  "Here, Mandisa, let me help you," he said, and lifted the tray.

"Thank you Ryan," she replied, and they moved into the living room.

Amanda looked up at Chris, and saw his stern expression.  She swallowed hard.  "What's-what's going on here?"

"Amy, I love you," Chris began, and Amanda softened a little at her childhood nickname.  "You know I do.  But I'm not your daddy, and lord knows I'm not gonna be your husband.  You're a grown woman now and you're gonna have to start cleaning up your own messes."

"What mess?" she asked.  "When have I ever asked you to-"

"How many times did I come get you out of some girl's bed with her daddy or her husband five minutes behind me?  Half the reason we joined up is because we were running out of small towns with landing strips."

"Oh, and you weren't having any fun in those towns?"

"I was always a damn sight more careful.  You didn't seem to care who saw you flirting and you still don't."  He sighed and shook his head.  "You always were headstrong, and your daddy would just shrug and say 'That's my Amy.'  And when we got out of college you were hell bent for I don't know what, but you sure couldn't stay in Virginia.  So I took you out on the road."

Amanda gasped-that couldn't be why.  "I thought you wanted to go!"

"I did."

"I thought you took me because I'm a good mechanic!"

"I did."

"More exciting than flying a bunch of rich folks back and forth to Atlanta."

"I'm not saying there wasn't some good in it.  I'm not saying it was a mistake.  I am saying that if you don't start being more careful-"

"About sex?"

"About everything!  Jesus, Amy, you're in the Air Force now.  You keep going like you have been and someone is going to sock you even if you are a girl.  And you're not eight anymore; you can't lick everyone you meet."

Amanda stared down at the table, then said, low, "I didn't realize I was so much trouble."

"Well you're worth it, most of the time," he said with a little smile.  "I'm just worried.  I can't always be there, especially now."  He fidgeted, his hand brushing across his thigh.  "When we were little, you took care of me, and then later I took care of you.  Maybe it's time for us to be adults and just take care of ourselves."

She nodded.  "So what now?"

Chris shrugged.  Blake turned to her.  "Right now I think you owe that girl of yours an apology."

Amanda took a deep breath.  "If she's still talking to me."

"I'll see," Robinson said, and left the room.

They'd been sitting quietly for a few minutes, smoking, some of them sipping coffee.  Carly lay on the bed staring at the ceiling.  Giuliana had pulled a chair near the bed and was holding her hand.  Joel and Kim sat on the low bench at the end of the bed.  There was a knock at the door, and Kim got up to answer it.  Seeing that it was Robinson, she stepped out into the hallway.

"How is she?" he asked.

"Calmer now," Kim replied.  "And Amanda?"

"She got quite a talking-to from Richardson.  She'd like to apologize, if you think Carly would listen."

"I do.  Where are the other girls?"

"Jen and George took them home.  Randy and the Studdards have left now, too, and Kelly with them."

"Still, I think in here would be best."

He nodded his agreement.  "So I'll bring her to you, and we'll see."

"Thank you," Kim said.

"Oh, I haven't done much of anything," Robinson replied.

"Well, still, I'm glad you're here," she said, smiling, and then went back into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, another knock on the door.  Kim opened it and Amanda walked in.  Robinson stayed in the door.  "Carly?" she asked.

Carly sat up.  "Amanda."

Joel turned to Carly.  "Would you like us to leave, or stay?" he asked.

Carly smiled at him, sadly.  "I'll be all right.  You can leave us."

Kim walked back into the living room to see Bill, Simon, Ryan, Cook, small David and Diana drinking coffee and talking quietly.  Simon stood.  "How is she?"

"She's quieted down, at least," Kim said, taking the seat Cook offered her.  "But we'll see."

Amanda hadn't been so nervous since-well, she wasn't sure she'd ever been this nervous, ever cared this much about something in her life.  Carly was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at her, and she honestly wasn't sure what to say, other than the obvious.  "God, Carly, I am so sorry."

"I know," Carly said.

"I didn't mean anything by it.  I just wasn't thinking."

"I know," she said.

"I just-whatever you want me to say, Carly.  Whatever you want."

Carly ran her hand over the bedspread, then asked, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"What?  I-of course I do, Carly.  Jesus, you're gorgeous."

She nodded.

"Is this about that day we met?  Because you said-"

"It's not about that, Amanda," Carly said, sounding frustrated.

"All right," she replied.  "Can I sit down?"

"Sure," Carly said, sweeping her hand toward the bench at the foot of the bed.

Amanda sat down, swinging up her legs and sitting sideways.  "So then what is it?" she asked.

Carly lit a cigarette.  "You certainly know how to look the part, in those trousers and suits and jumpsuits you wear."

"You said you liked a girl in a suit."

"I do," Carly said.  "But you don't much act the part."

Amanda scowled.  "What is that supposed to mean?"

"When you first told me you'd been a deb, I didn't believe you.  But it wasn't long before I could see it.  You're really used to being the center of attention, aren't you?"

"Well-"

"If not mine, at least Chris's.  And don't think I haven't thought that you might be with me because Chris has a boyfriend now."

"That's not fair."

"No," she said.  "It's not fair, to me."

"It's not true, either.  Chris has always been the marrying type.  I never was."

"All right," Carly said.  "You said once that I'm a real lady."

"You are," Amanda said.

"Then don't you think I deserve a real gentleman?  If you want to be the center of my attention, shouldn't I be the center of yours?"

Amanda opened her mouth, then closed it again.  She wanted to say, "You are," but it wouldn't have been the truth, and Carly deserved the truth.  "You deserve so much better than me, Carly.  But I can do better.  I can be better."

Carly slid back on the bed, so she was sitting almost next to where Amanda was on the bench.  "Oh, I don't want you to be different.  I like you as you are.  I just-sometimes I wish you'd look at me the way you look at some of these girls.  I wish I felt like the center of your world, at least sometimes."

"But you are.  I'm sorry, I just, I've never done this before.  I get scared."

"We all get scared, Amanda."

"Well, I never did," she said.  "I just barrel right through, usually.  But this-but you-" She stopped, took a breath.  "You're the most amazing girl, Carly.  I know I've fucked up but I can do better.  And if I'm being an ass, jeez, just tell me.  Chris doesn't hesitate.  And I'm an ass pretty damn frequently."

Carly grinned a little at that, and Amanda took heart.

"You don't mind him, do you?  Chris, I mean?  Cause, I dunno, we come kind of as a package."

"No," Carly said, gently.  "I don't mind him.  I rather like him.  And Blake, too."

They were quiet for a bit.  Amanda lit a cigarette, and one for Carly who'd finished hers.  "Can I say something?" Amanda asked.

Carly looked up. "Go ahead."

"I just-look, I know I was wrong tonight. And you are the center of my attention. But I think-I wish you were more willing to get attention from other people, too."

"What do you mean?" she asked, scowling.

"I know you want to look professional, but the way you dress-my mother would say that you're hiding your light under a bushel basket."

"You think I look pretty," she replied.

"I do. That doesn't mean that you couldn't dress to attract a little attention, instead of attracting none at all. You know, be proud of how you look. Everyone thinks you look fine, so dress like you think so, too."

"I suppose," Carly said.

"And it's the same thing with your work. Simon thinks you're ready to be a producer, that you've outgrown him, but you haven't moved to bigger things."

"I like working with Simon. It's comfortable."

"That's what I mean. You're so many wonderful things, Carly-everyone says so-but you're so reluctant to believe it. Would you really go to America?"

"That's where you'll be."

"Yes, but I mean, to work? If we could make that happen, would you really go, even if you weren't going with Giuliana?"

Carly took a drag on her cigarette. "It's a big decision, Amanda."

"I know. But you're capable of it, Carly."

"Thanks," she said, and smiled.

"You're also capable of doing a very good hoochie-coochie by the way. Better than either of those girls."

"Oh really?" Carly asked. "Because I think it's you that owe me a hoochie-coochie dance, sister!"

Amanda nodded, smiling ruefully. "You're right, you're right. Are you going to let me?"

"Perhaps."

"Tonight?" she asked with her most charming smile.

"Don't push your luck," Carly said, putting out her cigarette.

"So, are we okay?" Amanda asked.

"Well," Carly said, "it's enough for tonight.  Take me home?" she asked, sliding her hand close to Amanda, who took it in her own.

"Of course," Amanda replied.  "May I stay?"

Kim heard the click of the door, and set down her coffee cup.  Amanda and Carly emerged from the hall, and Kim felt rather sorry for them, having to face everyone who'd stayed behind.

Giuliana, in her gentle way, broke the silence.  "Carly, if you want us to take you home-or you can stay with me and Papa tonight if you like."

"No, thank you," Carly said.  "Amanda's going to come home with me."

Simon slipped past them into the front hall and retrieved their coats.  "Let us know if you can't find a cab," he said, handing Carly her coat.

"I'll take that," Amanda said, and held it up for Carly to put on. "And I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Thank you," Carly said, and with a wave, they were gone.

"Well," Simon said.

There was a flurry of coats and leave-taking then, as it was nearly 2am.  Diana was staying with Giuliana, and Bill was taking them both home.  Simon made much of small David's shyness, and made all the adults turn their backs so Diana could "get her sodding kiss goodnight."  Joel brought small David back to the apartment he shared with Ryan, but not before he confirmed that Cook would be over the next morning to make pancakes "because Ryan and I have been saving all our butter for this!"  Ryan shook his head as he invited Kim and Robinson to come to breakfast, too.  Cook and Robinson then set out to escort Kim home, and the three piled into a cab.

"Well, that was quite an evening!" Robinson said.

"Yeah," Cook said.  "It really was."

Kim reached over and took Cook's hand.  "Kelly told me you talked.  I'm glad."

He grinned.  "Me too.  I just couldn't figure that girl, but now at least I know what I'm up against."

"I think Overmyer and Miss Hennessey will be okay, too," Robinson said.  "Overmyer's really a good 'un.  She just blusters."

"Like a bull in a china shop," Cook said.

It wasn't far from Simon Cowell's posh square to the little house on its cozy side street.  The cab pulled to a stop and Kim said goodnight to Cook, and turned to do the same with Robinson but he'd already jumped out of the cab, holding the door open for her, then walking her to her door.

"I had a real nice time tonight," he said, smiling.

"Me too," Kim said, willing the butterflies to stay out of her stomach.  She pulled out her latchkey, but her fingers felt clumsy.

"Let me," Robinson said, and his hand brushed against her for just a moment as he took the key out of her hand.  He slipped it into the lock and turned it, opening the door.  "Good night, Miss Locke," he said, and kissed her cheek.

"Good night, Robinson," she replied, and stepped inside, closing the door behind her quickly.  She leaned up against it, sighing, then turned to look out the side window.  As the cab drove away, she could have sworn she saw Cook cuffing the back of Robinson's head, but that couldn't be.  Why on earth would he do that?

"Wow," Simon said.

"Yeah," Ryan agreed.  "Well, at least we got a lot of the cleaning done while everyone was being dramatic."

They were sitting in the living room now, having a brandy.  Chris and Blake had already retired to that spare room that had seen so much activity-and none of it sexual!-but Ryan still felt a little too wired to go to bed just yet.  The glasses and cups were in the sink for the cleaning girl the next day, and the empty food trays in a neat pile for the caterers to retrieve.

"Everyone will remember this party," Simon said.

"Mmm.  Think they'll be all right?" Ryan asked.

"Don't see why not.  What I don't understand is, what are Kim and that Robinson on about?  They behave like a couple, but then they don't."

"It's very strange," Ryan said.  "But, they'll work that out."

"I hope so," Simon said.  "Robinson isn't exactly in a low risk job, out there."

"True," Ryan replied.  "But I'm glad you are."

"Are you really?" Simon asked, grinning.  He swallowed the last of his drink.  "Ready for bed?"

"Bed yes," Ryan said, setting down his glass.  "Sleep, no."

Kim was surprised when she got up to her room and found Jen and Kat still awake. Jen looked up and gestured to Kim, saying, "You can ask her yourself, here she is."

"Ask me what?" Kim said, taking off her coat.

Kat turned to her, scowling fiercely. "I heard that this party tonight was given by Mr. Cowell?"

Kim looked to Jen, who explained, "She overheard Haley talking about it."

Rolling her eyes, Kim replied, "Yes, it was."

"And why wasn't I invited? When you both were, and Kelly, and even Haley and Gina?"

"I don't think it was your kind of party," Kim replied, and started to undress.

"Oh really? A party full of airmen and show people? What about that wasn't my kind of party?"

"Weren't you with Rabbi Yamin this evening anyway?" Kim asked.

"Don't change the subject, Kimberley."

Kim sighed, and tried to think of the safest way to explain. "Well, you know, Simon Cowell isn't really like other people. And he wanted to be comfortable, and have his guests be comfortable. And part of that was, well, people being able to bring their dates."

"So it was some sort of petting party?" Kat asked. "Jen I could understand, but I wouldn't think that you and Robinson would go in for something so vulgar."

"Katharine," Jen said, "you'd better-"

"Jen, just let it go," Kim said, holding up her hand; one more girl fight this evening she could not take. "No, Kat, it was not a petting party."

"Then why wouldn't people bringing their dates be my sort of party?" Kat asked.

"Because some of the men had men for dates," Kim replied, "and some of the women, women."

Kat cocked her head. "You mean-Mr. Cowell?"

"Honestly, Kat, how long have you been in the business?" Jen asked. "Of course Mr. Cowell. The rest of us knew that within five minutes of meeting him."

"And he has a-a male lover? And Paula knew this?"

Kim put her head in her hands. "Yes, she did."

Kat stood up. "Was everyone at this party some kind of deviant?"

"Probably," Jen said.

"Jen, that's not helpful," Kim said. "No, there were plenty of boy-girl couples there."

"But there were more deviant couples than Mr. Cowell and his-oh my God, you don't mean to say that nice Mr. Seacrest?"

"Now her eyes are open," Jen said.

"They're actually very happy," Kim said.

"And there were other people from the show there?" Kat asked.

"Yes."

"And are they-"

"No," Kim replied. "They're just understanding, like Jen and me."

Kat crossed her arms. "You expect me to believe that those airmen like Cook and Robinson and Lewis are 'understanding'?"

Kim shrugged. "You can believe what you want, Kat."

"Well, I think it's disgusting," Kat said, "and I'm glad I wasn't there."

"Then it's a good thing you weren't invited," Kim said.

"No, wait," Jen said. "Let me tell you something, Kat. You can think whatever you want. But there were people at that party who've been through a lot of things, and they just wanted to be happy for a night. And you'd better think about how much you really want to be a singer, because there are plenty of queers in this business, and if you want the good songs, and the good directors, and the good orchestras, you're gonna have to work with them. Billy Strayhorn, the one who wrote half the songs we sing in this show, is a queer, and he ain't the only one."

"I'm sure I can avoid them!" Kat said.

"I'd like to see you try," Jen replied.

"And even if I have to work with them," Kat said, "I wouldn't want to go to a party full of them!" She turned to Kim. "Are you going to tell me who else at that party I should avoid?"

"Of course not," Kim said.

"And why not, if you're so 'understanding?" she asked.

"Because not everyone is," Kim said, "and Simon wanted people to feel safe at his party. But I can't trust you not to spread it around, and that could ruin lives, Kat. You wouldn't hurt Simon, because he gives you lots of attention and praise and time to sing on the radio. And you couldn't get Ryan into trouble without hurting Simon. But other people you could hurt, and not only can't I take that chance, but I wouldn't. They trusted me with their secret and I intend to keep it."

Kat huffed and glared, but Kim just looked her in the eyes, levelly. "Well," Kat said, "you may be comfortable with this, but I am not!"

"You've made that pretty damn clear," Kim said.

"And I don't know how comfortable I am with people who are comfortable with it!"

"That's your opinion," Kim said.

Kat sputtered and scowled. "Well, I'm going to sleep in Paula's old room, and tomorrow I'm telling Randy that I am not renewing my contract with this show. Singing with colored girls is one thing, but this is something else!" She grabbed a pillow and flew out of the room, her feather-trimmed robe swirling out behind her.

Jen turned to Kim. "At least there are only three weeks left," she said. "I can put up with anything for three weeks."

"But I'd hate to end things like this," Kim said. "Maybe something will happen to change her mind."

25 October 1940

Amanda sat atop one of the equipment carts, her feet swinging in time with the tune Castro was playing on his guitar.  Grigsby was nearby filling out a requisition for a few parts they'd run out of; the three usually updated their inventory while the pilots were out on mission, anything to keep their minds occupied.  But this mission was going on for much longer than most did.  Squadron 11 was also out, but they'd left much later.  Some of the Australians and other Canadians in 12 and 14 were going through their checklists, getting ready to head out themselves.

Finally, she saw a few planes silhouetted against the setting sun.  Stacey's three-plane flight was first to land, and as Bice and Young hopped out of their cockpits she noticed that Young was scowling.  The three mechanics hopped up to help bring the planes in, and start going through post-mission checklists.  Cook's flight was just behind them, and Amanda was so busy with her duties that she didn't notice anything amiss until Cook said, "Robinson landed yet?"

"No sir," Castro replied.

"Damn," he said.  "We lost them-Richardson was pulling heavy fire so they were doing evasive maneuvers.  I was hoping they'd beat us back."

Amanda swallowed, hard, and closed her eyes for just a moment, before continuing to work on Rogers' plane.  But their post-mission duties only took so long, and thirty minutes later Robinson's flight, with Chris and Daughtry, still hadn't returned.

The rest of the squadron hung around, tense with waiting.  Cook had radioed Squadron 11, but they had gone in a different direction and hadn't seen a thing.  Blake had hopped up on top of the cart to sit next to Amanda, and she was immensely glad for their cover story, as Blake had tight hold of her hand.  She felt a little guilty, since she loved all the boys, and prayed for the safe return of all of them, but she thought mostly of Chris.

Suddenly Bice shouted, "There they are!"

Amanda looked up in the sky.  One plane was flying very slowly, and she could see another just on its tail, smoke pouring from one engine, and realized why it had taken them so long to get back to base.  She started thinking about how to bring the damaged plane in safely, when Blake said, "oh, shit," low in her ear, and it wasn't until that moment that she understood what he meant.

There were only two planes.

Chapter Eleven: The Awful Truth

Notes:

It Happened One Night (dir. Frank Capra, 1934) is a romantic comedy starring Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable.

I'll say more on the British laws regarding homosexuality in the commentary rather than go on at length here, but you may have noticed that other than the Pyramid Club, most of this fic takes place in private spaces and very controlled situations. Simon's party is, as Kim points out to Kat, one of those controlled situations.