Soldier!England x Reader: All's Fair Pt3

“________! ________, come quick! You’ve got to see this!”

“What?” You set down your music and turned to your manager, Mimi, who seemed completely out of breath. “What’s going on?”

“The Japanese just bombed Pearl Harbor! Look here,” Mimi thrust a newspaper into your face and pointed to the headline enthusiastically. More specifically, the headline announced that America had declared war on Japan. You gripped the paper tightly, your heart twisting. If this was the case, it meant the war was far from over. When you went outside to clear your head for a moment, there were many who were having the same reaction. Elderly couples and single mothers and school children all stood in clumps around newspapers, shaking their heads as they read the awful news. Mothers missing their young sons wept openly. Your heart sank as two faces simultaneously made their way into your subconscious: Baba’s and Arthur's.

You wondered where they were, or if they were all right. Your heart sank at the thought that it might be several more years yet before you saw Baba's face again. If he was still alive, that was. As you stood surveying the scene around you, you briefly wondered if the tragic news would cancel the rest of the shows for the day. It wasn’t until a little later that Mimi told you that the show would still go on as planned.

You tried to keep the thought of going several more years living with ration books and bomb shelters out of your mind, but it proved to be a losing fight. You did your best during the shows to lose yourself in the music so that you would be able to put off thinking for a while. It worked to a certain extent, but you couldn’t ever completely keep the thoughts from hovering around the periphery of your mind. When evening finally came, you closed the show down.

When you got inside you dropped your bag and your clothes to the floor and pulled on your bathrobe before dropping face-down onto your bed, exhausted. Sleep came almost instantly, and for a time you slept dreamlessly. You slept in late the next day and only woke briefly from the bright noon sun stabbing through a crack in the curtains over your window. But you drifted back to sleep after a minute. This time you did dream. There were flames everywhere, hot and white, roaring and consuming all around you. You weren't afraid of burning to death. There was something in the middle of the fire that you wanted desperately to reach, but couldn’t. You tried to push through the flames that licked all around you, but something held you back, no matter how hard you fought.

You woke with a start, gasping and sweating. You looked all around, but there was no fire. You crossed your arms over your face, relieved. Absently you wondered what time it was and thought to check the clock on your wall. When you saw the time, you groaned; you had to go back to work in an hour. The show opened at seven, and it was already six. You contemplated not showing up, but you knew that Mimi was not pleased with you as it was and that you might be in search of a new job if you chose to slack off tonight.

When you showed up to the stage, Mimi and the crew greeted you distractedly as they hurried about their tasks, preparing the show. You yawned and stretched, dropping your bag next to the dressing table where you did your make-up for the show. It was only then that you realized that there was a rather large bouquet of flowers on the counter. There was no card to say who it was from, so you absently asked Mimi where they had come from as she passed by you.

“Some man dropped them off. He didn’t say who he was, but he said you’d know him.”

“What was his name?”

“Oh, I can’t remember. He said he’d be at the show tonight to see you and you’d recognize him in the crowd.”

You yawned again and stretched, “Lovely. It’d better not be that drunkard from King Arthur's Tavern, though. End of war or no, he's still disgusting.”

“Ugh, I remember him,” Mimi wrinkled her nose, “Yes he was exceptionally repugnant. But no, it wasn’t him. It was some older gentleman.”

“Great, I get loonies and dirty old men. I’ve got all the luck.”

Mimi rolled her eyes, “Just get into costume.”

“Aw, do I have to?” You slumped down heavily onto the vanity stool, “After that performance you made me do last night? It’s hardly fair to make me do another show only twenty-four hours later.”

“That’s show business,” Mimi shrugged, “if you don’t like it, go find some tables to wait on. Now get dressed and ready. We open in half an hour.”

You groaned and folded your arms on the dressing table and rested your head on them. Life honestly sucked sometimes. It didn’t matter that tragedy had struck. You couldn’t even have one or two days off to mourn like everyone else.

You did as she said and got into costume and put on your makeup, giving your hair a little extra curl to try and get yourself in a performing mood.

You and the band played hard and long, probably better than most of the performances you had given in a long time. Sweat dripped down your skin, but you didn’t rest until the crowd was too worn out to cheer anymore. When that moment finally came you and the band took a bow and exited the stage.

You grabbed a towel and sponged off the perspiration on your neck and face before changing out of your costume. You had just finished buttoning up your light blue dress when someone spoke from behind you, “All that time, and I never knew what an incredible singer you are.”

You spun like a shot and met the crinkled eyes of a long-awaited old friend.

“BABA!” You screamed, leaping at him like a spider-monkey and throwing your arms and legs around him, squeezing so hard you thought you might break something. His mighty laugh rumbled in his chest and he roared with laughter as he squeezed you back and twirled you around. When you let go and dropped back to your feet you continued to bounce with uncontrollable joy. “You’re here! You’re really here!” You threw your arms around him again and held him tightly, your throat tightening and a tear coursing down your cheek. He squeezed you in return, “Oh, my girl.” For a long time, neither of you could speak.

You, at last, broke the silence when you gained control of your voice, “I thought I’d never see you again.” You covered your mouth and laughed a little, still stunned with joy.

He held your face in his hands and wiped away the tear you had let escape, “Now, now, you didn’t really think some big bad war would get the better of your old Baba, did you?”

You shook your head and touched his hands, still marveling. Then a thought occurred to you, “Are you the one who sent the flowers?”

“I should hope so.”

You laughed, “And I thought they were from some dirty old man.”

Baba roared with laughter again, “I'd challenge any man with the nerve to so much as look at my daughter.” He sobered suddenly in one of his unpredictable mood swings, “That reminds me, have you married? Do you have any children?”

To this, your face fell in disappointment, “I’m afraid not, Baba.” You shrugged, “It’s just me still.”

“Nobody interesting?”

“Nah, nobody good enough for me,” you replied tartly, “And definitely nobody good enough for you.”

“Ah, that’s my girl,” Baba shook your shoulders with approval, “Never settle for anything less than the best.” He looked around the dressing room, “So where are you living these days?”

“Oh,” you laughed and gathered up your things, “I’m living in a little house down by the beach. Come with me, I’ll show you. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, besides.”

“Lead the way, Spitfire.”

It had been his pet name for you since you were a child, and it made your heart swell to hear it spoken again. You took the arm he offered you and you departed, saying goodnight to Mimi as you passed her on your way out of the backstage area. The bustle in the streets had died down, most everyone having gone home. You showed Baba around the city, telling him everything about the shops and the people. He said nothing of where he had been or what he had been up to all these years, but you didn’t press him, you were just happy he had found you.

When you came to the cliff where the stairs led down to your house he breathed a sigh of pride, “I always said you deserved the best. Now, look at the life you’ve built for yourself.”

You descended the stairs and crossed the sand to your house. Inside it was dark, but a few candles and lamps and a warm, crackling fire in the fireplace chased away the evening gloom, and soon you were sitting before the fire, sipping wine and laughing about old times.

“So tell me, where have you been all this time?”

Baba sipped his wine thoughtfully, staring into the fireplace for a long time, deciding whether or not he wanted to tell you. Finally, he said thoughtfully, “I've been doing as I've always done.” He turned to you, “I assume you saw the news about America and the Japanese?”

You turned to look into the fire, lowering your glass from your lips and nodding.

After a brief, understanding glance, Baba said, “You feared I would never return when you learned of this.” He reclined back in his seat on the sofa.

You nodded and said nothing.

Baba sipped his wine for a while, thinking long and hard. At last, he spoke, swirling his glass as he did so, “I don't wish to uproot you from the life I told you to find when I sent you away. But this has become bigger than just the two of us now.”

He looked up at you, “I have a confession to make, Spitfire. I didn't come here to see you this time. I've come here tonight to ask for your assistance." He swirled his glass around and then took a deep gulp from it, "Or rather, I've come to recruit you."

Your eyes snapped to his face, "Baba...do you mean like in the old days?"

Baba smiled slightly, "Yes..." he leaned his head back, "and no. This will be different from your younger years. This go around, your...privileges as an entertainer would give you the perfect cover to work under. You have access to cities, venues, hotels, and influential leaders that none of my other agents can get anywhere near.”

You kept a perfect mask of calm on your face, but internally you were in full-fledged panic mode. Travel from city to city spying? What if you were caught? You had no training, apart from what little you had learned from Baba as a child.

But Baba knew you, and he voiced answers to your questions out loud, "I have an agent you will 'hire' as a tour manager, and he will take care of everything. The only thing you have to do is show up, sing, and keep your eyes and ears open. If you see or hear anything you think might be of value, you report it straight to him."

You set your wine down and closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose, "But we'll need passports and travel papers--"

"I've already prepared the necessary documents for you and everyone in your band, and I've made the reservations for hotels and venues in the areas we need you to operate in."

"Baba, believe me, I want to help, but I can't ask this of my band! It's too dangerous! Besides, for all we know, one of my own band members could be a Nazi sympathizer!"

Baba also set his glass down, "Which is why you will tell them nothing. The only thing they will ever know is that you're going on tour around the continent. You and my agent are the key players in this setup."

You stared into the flames of the fire, your heart pounding. But you knew it was no good arguing. Baba had already made all of the arrangements, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

You fidgeted and then whispered, "How soon do we leave?"

Baba's eyes were glazed over from the wine and he stood, stepping over to lean against the mantle of the fireplace, "You travel to Paris next week. There, you and I will attend a party in the evening where I will introduce you to the agent I have lined up to pose as your tour manager. From there I will leave you in his capable hands."

You sat in silence for a long time, absorbing the whirlwind that was now to be the next chapter of your life, whether you liked it or not. After several minutes, you picked up your glass and tilted it toward him, “To freedom.”

Baba raised his glass to yours and you both drank.

A spy, you thought, and your hands began to shake, I'm going to be a spy.