February 10, 1946
London, England

"Mrs. Lewis Nixon."

Alice couldn't help but smirk at her own words. As she sat up beneath the sheets, she closed her eyes. A gentle pitter-patter of midnight rain sounded on the single window in their hotel room in London.

Nix moved across the room from where he'd been changing. The bed moved as he shifted up next to her. "You gonna start calling me Lewis now, Mrs. Lewis Nixon?" he teased.

Alice took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne and her newly washed hair filling her nose. She opened her eyes. Staring back at her was her husband. At the thought, Alice smiled again. "Should I?"

When his hands cupped her face, Alice shuddered. She let him turn her head and pull her into a kiss. His hands moved to her hair, and she pushed deeper into the embrace. It felt right. He felt like home, all of home. She didn't have to keep searching, because no matter where they went, as long as they were together, she would have a home. Adélaïde had gotten what she wanted.

Alice choked on a sob at the thought. It almost hurt to pull back, to break the beautiful tension. But emotions overwhelmed her, and she had to calm down. Alice felt herself shaking. "I'm sorry," she apologized through her tears. "I'm sorry."

"What's wrong?"

Everything and nothing. But she didn't know what to say. It didn't make sense. She'd slept with him dozens of times. She couldn't explain it. Alice shot up from the bed, bouncing a bit as she scrambled to the floor. Her white tank top had wet spots from her tears even as she poured herself a glass of Vat 69 from the vanity.

"Damn it," she hissed to herself. Her heart pounded in her chest, from stress and from love and from the many contradictory emotions. It confused her. Thoughts of the war filled her mind, the blood and the cold and the hatred and despair.

But then she turned around. Nix still sat on the bed. Lewis Nixon. Her husband, shirt off, hair still messy and wet from his shower, looked at her with so much concern and love that she couldn't help but smile and choke back another sob. "Nothing's wrong." And yet her stress continued to rise. "Shit. Nothing's wrong. What's wrong with me!"

All she could think about was Skip and the way he'd regale the company with all the ways he planned to show Faye how much he loved her. It had kept them going, some days. Alice coughed again. With every cough, her anxiety spiked.

"Hey! Hey," Nix said. He scrambled off the bed as she grabbed at her chest again. "You're not getting sick. Alice look at me!"

Another harsh sob escaped her. "God damnit."

This wasn't how she'd planned the night of her wedding to go. She'd not imagined herself standing in a hotel room in London. She'd not imagined herself struggling to breathe from the anxiety racing through her. Her vision blurred. "I'm sorry."

But he said nothing. Instead, he just pulled her into an embrace. Alice rested her face on his warm skin, forcing herself to calm down. She could hear his heart beating. The steadiness made her pause. She took several deep breaths.

"It's our wedding day. You can't cry," he muttered. Her hair muffled his voice. "You can cry after we have to say goodbye to England."

Alice laughed at his joke. But she didn't move, still relishing the safety of the firm embrace. With each breath she calmed down more. She focused on the surrounding sounds instead of her own overwhelmed emotions. The pounding rain, the ticking of the clock on the wall, her own unsteady breathing, the beating of her heart, she tried to focus on those. Alice didn't know how long they'd stood there, but eventually, she pulled away and looked at him. Home.

"I love you," she said. Her voice shook with all different emotions. Wiping the tears off her face, she chuckled at the absurdity. "I love you."

He smirked. "Good. Because you share my name now."

"Mrs. Lewis Nixon," she repeated.

Alice laughed through her few remaining tears. They were married. They'd flown across an ocean to escape the prying eyes of the United States' socialites. They'd fought a war and won. Home would be wherever they decided it would be.

When he kissed her a second time, she melted at the touch. No matter how many times Lewis Nixon kissed her, Alice felt the same joy. The air in the room always disappeared. It irked her, too, that he knew exactly what the trail of kisses down her neck to her collarbone did. Her head spun as she desperately pushed him back to the bed, breaking the kisses.

"I don't think we're officially married yet," he muttered. "It needs to be consummated."

Alice grinned. "I think I read that somewhere, too." She let out a light laugh as he grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed next to him. Her body felt like it was on fire as he rolled on top of her. She chuckled again. It would be a long night.

When she woke to sunlight streaming through the small window in their hotel room, Alice groaned. 0800. They'd only gone to bed two hours ago. Time changes. Struggling against the urge to get up and use the bathroom, she just stayed staring at Lewis Nixon across from her. Lewis. She smirked to herself.

When he opened his eyes, she tried to force down the smile. But she'd been caught. He groaned and closed his eyes again. "Too early," he slurred.

Alice scoffed at him. Since he was already awake, she shifted out from under his arm and tiptoed to the bathroom. By the time she'd gotten back, he still hadn't reopened his eyes. Pushing back the sheets, she crawled back into bed. He opened his eyes again. She loved the brown of his eyes. They just looked so warm.

"I hope our kids have brown eyes," she said. At her words, she froze. The thought had come out without her consent. She hadn't meant to verbalize it. "I just..."

He propped himself up on his left arm. "Why?"

Her throat clenched. Falling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling. She knew why. But she'd never said it aloud. When Nix prompted her again, she turned back to him. "I just don't like blue eyes anymore." Alice paused. "They remind me of Germany."

Instead of laughing, or making a joke as she half expected, he grabbed her hand. Alice closed her eyes. The faces she'd seen at Kaufering IV stared back, mocking her. They haunted her dreams.

"I hope our kids have the same color eyes as their mother," he told her. Using his thumb, he wiped away the tears that fell from her closed eyes. He sighed again. "Why did you start crying earlier?"

Alice looked at him again. She smiled. "Home."

"What?"

Pushing herself up, she sat hugging the bedding to the loose paratrooper tee she'd pulled on before going to sleep. She turned to him. "You." Her voice cracked. "I spent the last decade of my life fighting to find my way back home. I just didn't expect home to be a person." With a tiny smile, she just shook her head, her hair falling into her face. "Mrs. Lewis Nixon." Another deep breath, and her smile widened. "I got married."

Nix laughed. He sat up too. "I know. I was there."

It was her turn to laugh. Alice trailed off, staring out the slightly uncovered window. It took a moment to recover. But then she turned back to him. "For the first time in years..." Her voice cracked again, and her face scrunched up. She took a deep breath. "I felt a little like Adélaïde."

A quiet pause fell over the room. After several moments of just the sounds of their breathing, he replied. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "I love you." With a quick motion, he pushed the golden hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. It made her smile. Jesus, that smile. He leaned in and kissed her again. "Adélaïde," he tried.

She giggled at his attempt. "I thought you were better at french, mon amour."

He huffed. "I'm fantastic at French. It's why you fell in love with me."

"There's the arrogant jerk," she teased. Alice laughed again and shook her head. As the sun fell on her face, she took a deep breath and smiled. "Lewis."

"What?"

"It's only fair. If you try Adélaïde, I get to try Lewis." She turned and looked at him. With a smirk, she pushed some hair out of his face. "Lewis. Spina's daughter Carol thinks you have a stupid name, by the way."

"What!"

Alice cackled as he just scoffed and shook his head. "Her words, not mine. Lewis."

"It's a fantastic name!"

"Sure."

They both burst out laughing. Once Alice had control of herself again, her cheeks hurting from laughing so hard, she looked at the clock. Almost 9:00 am. Millie said she'd reach London by noon. She turned back to him.

"We should get up, Lewis."

He chuckled, but soon made his way over to the quarter full bottle of Vat 69. He poured himself a drink. "Cheers."

"What are we drinking to?" she asked. Alice joined him in leaning against the dresser.

Lewis filled her shot glass. "To us."

She smiled. "To home."

"To running away from responsibilities and never going back."

With another laugh, she nodded. "I'll drink to that."

They downed their shots together. Together. Alice smiled at the bottle of Vat 69 that Lewis held in his hand. As he refilled her shot glass, she took a deep breath. He was Nix. She was Alice. Her smiled widened. He was Lewis. She was Adélaïde. Even though she knew, they both knew, they couldn't run away from New Jersey forever, for the remaining six days in England, they'd pretend.

"Jesus Christ, I'm exhausted," Lewis muttered. "Can't we go back to bed."

"To sleep?" When he just snickered, Alice smirked. "Come on, we need breakfast."

But he'd already grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to him. She couldn't help but smirk again. Damn his eyes, and his shirtless body. "Nix..." He cut her off with a kiss. All she wanted to do was yell at him for distracting her. But she couldn't. She felt herself giving in, the heat filling her body. So she just kissed him back.