Catch Her If You Can | Band of Brothers

XII. August 24th, 1943. En route to New York City.

August 24th, 1943. En route to New York City.

The train certainly wasn't as elegant as Georgia had become accustomed to in her youth, but she'd been learning to cope with the lack of decadence within the US Army. She was currently sitting next to Dick with her feet on the seat across from her, engaged in conversation with Harry Welsh.

"No, listen," Harry said, "In poker, it's all about how good of a liar you are, and you're good at poker, therefore, you lie a lot." He settled back in his seat, looking smug.

"Except for the fact that it takes more than just being a good liar to win at poker," Georgia began. "You need to master the skill of the actual game. You can lie all you want but it won't save you from a bad hand."

Harry scoffed. "A modest rich girl? Who knew," he said sarcastically.

Georgia sat up and kicked Harry, who promptly swore. Dick looked up from his letter to give Harry a quirked eyebrow and an exasperated look.

"She kicked me!" Harry exclaimed, looking between the two. "Come, Dick, you saw!"

"I didn't see anything," said Dick, trying and failing to hide his grin.

"Ha! Take that Welsh," Georgia said as she settled back into her space beside Dick. As she did so, Harry pretended to look incensed.

"I can't believe it," he said, "a good Pennsylvania man betraying one of his own for a Southern girl."

"Put a sock in it, Harry, you'll never win," said Lew, weaving his way towards the other three officers. "Trust me, if Georgia's convinced someone to help her, then it's over for you."

Lew pulled out his flask as Georgia lowered her feet so he could sit. Outside, a gentle summer rain tapped on the windows, but the dark clouds further north held the promise of thunder later on. Harry had also elected to have slightly better posture, but only due to the fact that Lew was holding his flask out to him. Georgia rolled her eyes, and Dick continued to write.

"So," Lew said, "I assume we all know where this train is headed?"

"You told Harry and me yesterday, Nix."

"I knew before we left Mackall," said Georgia.

"Showoff," Lew muttered, and Georgia grinned.

"It's a reward for doing all of the intelligence legwork for the regiment," she said whilst fishing around for a cigarette.

"Oh, my goodness, I forgot! We're in the presence of the angel of regimental staff!" said Lew, gesturing broadly.

"Will you cut it out?" Georgia asked.

"Georgia, can I have one friend who you haven't kicked today?" asked Dick.

"I thought you didn't see me kick Harry, Red."

Dick paused and looked up, seemingly trying to find the right words. He tapped his pencil lightly against his cheek for a few seconds, then went back to writing.

"Innocent until proven guilty," he said.

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Harry, clearly just as confused as Georgia was.

"Georgia is innocent of kicking you until she's been proven guilty, and you're innocent of lying about the fact that she kicked you until proven guilty," he said simply.

Georgia eyed him up quizzically, eventually shrugging and turning to look out the window.

"Fucking Quaker," Harry muttered as he lit his own cigarette.