"George, you can't be serious."

"What! You said you wanted to do something a little less loud."

"Running up a mountain wasn't really what I meant!"

Alice stood outside, wearing the one pair of pants she'd brought with her and wrapped in her tight jacket. Fortunately for her, his brother Santi had a pair of boots her size, so with those in place of mary janes, she supposed she at least had gear for it.

"Jesus calm down." George just laughed at her through his cigarette. "Get in the car."

Muttering under her breath in French, knowing he couldn't understand her, Alice did as asked. It was cold, not freezing, but still cold. No wind, so small mercies. But when she'd suggested getting away from the Luz clan for a couple hours she'd meant maybe... well, anything but running Rhode Island's Currahee.

George was snickering to himself as he turned the car on. She wanted to be mad at him. She really did. She'd not come all the way from Philadelphia to run up a damn mountain. But this was George, and when he got it in his head to do something, there was no stopping him.

"I outrank you."

"Not in the military anymore."

She rolled her eyes and looked out the window as they backed down to the road. "Not that it ever worked back then."

"True."

With a tiny huff, she continued to watch the road. Small houses passed every couple of minutes. He'd said the mountain was about half an hour away. Half an hour before she had to run another Currahee. Then she paused. "I'm older than you-"

"By like six months. That doesn't count." He shook his head. "Jesus Christ you're worse than Victoria. All you gotta do is sit there, lookin' pretty."

"I do look fantastic, thank you," she bit back.

As George just muttered around his cigarette, she risked a glance in his direction. The look of pure disdain morphed into a begrudging laugh. He told her to shut up. Alice just chuckled again and settled back to watch the Rhode Island countryside. 

Half an hour later, when the car stopped, Alice looked at him in confusion. "Where's the mountain?"

"I said it was the highest peak. Never said it was a mountain," George teased. "Get out. Welcome to Jerimoth Hill. Point three miles up, point three miles down."

"This is the highest point in Rhode Island?" Alice looked at the mostly flat forest in the distance. "This?"

"Yep. Come on. There's a really great boulder at the top."

Alice would've smacked him if he'd been closer than the other side of the car. The wind had picked up a bit. Clearly they'd gone up in elevation. But not by much, if the relatively flat area around was any indication. Pine trees forested the area, and a small, breaking down 'No Trespassing' sign hung from a post beside a long driveway.

"It says No Trespassing," she pointed out.

He snorted. "Yeah. That stops about no one. I know the guy's son gets a bit twitchy about it, but they've never stopped anyone that I know of."

"Point three miles up, you said?" she finally asked. As her smile grew, she shut her car door. "I think I can handle that."

"Big words for a girl."

"Never stopped you from trying to outdo me before."

"Never said it would stop me."

With another snort, Alice just pushed past him and looked at the slightly overgrown trail to the left of the driveway. She nodded. "Let's go then."

The hike took little time, only about half an hour. But the quiet filled Alice with a very deep sense of peace that she had been sorely lacking in the whirlwind since New Jersey. Pine needles scattered the forest floor, some obscuring a few slanted rocks in the ground that made her thankful for Santi's boots. Even with the easy elevation, mary janes would've been tough. 

They saw no one else. Alice did catch sight of one deer, and George teased her endlessly for talking to it. But she just ignored him. If she wanted to talk to the deer, she was going to talk to the deer. At one point, they passed a boulder in the ground where someone had stopped to pile rocks up into a statue looking thing. George wanted to push it over.

"Don't be rude," Alice scolded him. "Come on. Hi-yo Silver, yeah?"

"Oh god," George moaned. "Don't."

"You're the one who's good at impressions. I won't even try Sobel," she assured him. With a chuckle, she kept pushing on the surprisingly well-marked trail. It was a walk in the park. Or, forest.

They broke out of the treeline. About fifty meters ahead, near a set of other trees, a boulder with more piled rocks lay next to the trail. George grinned and jogged up to it. "See. A really great boulder."

"It's fantastic, George. A great boulder," Alice teased. "Don't forget though, we still have to slog point three miles down."

"Yeah. Better take a rest."

She plopped down onto the boulder. Her beret tipped a bit off as she lay back, and she used it to keep stray pine needles from her hair. George had disappeared somewhere further down the trail. With a deep breath through her nose, Alice took in the fresh scent of pine, ferns, and chill air. 

It was nice. Not freezing, but chilly. Not loud, just peaceful. As much as Alice had enjoyed spending a couple days with the Luz family, they really were quite a rambunctious crowd, and she'd started to get a bit claustrophobic. Victoria had been a hoot, clearly not quite impressed with Alice at all. That had been the highlight, listening to her interrogate her like a prisoner.

But out here, it was more simple. No questions. Just quiet. And quiet meant she could think. She'd done quite a bit of thinking while with Bill and Babe and Spina. Something Harry had said in their last few days in Mourmelon-le-Grand kept coming back to her. 

"Why are you still hiding?"

Harry had been right, of course. Ever the expert at answering with nonanswers. A gift, really. At least the officers had gotten a bit more information after Germany. Gene and Malark knew the full story behind her joining the Maquis. But somehow George just... hadn't been there for it. And as Alice lay there staring up between shivering pine trees at the blue sky, she kicked herself for it. The one guy in all of Easy who she trusted more than anyone except Nixon was still in the dark about her life before Easy.

Laughter pulled her from her thoughts. George stood over her, shaking his head. He took a drink from his canteen.

"What?" Alice asked. She sat up as he took a spot on the boulder too. 

"You do the arm thing even when you're laying down," he told her. "When you're thinking."

With a groan, she shook her head. But then she paused. "I guess... It's like a way to protect myself."

George stopped laughing. "From what?" He looked genuinely confused.

She felt herself clamming up. Scheisse. She just had to talk! Why was it so hard? Alice felt her arms creeping back to her midsection. "I- I don't know. I guess just. People. Talking... Thinking." When he didn't respond, she just shrugged again. Alice just wanted to disappear. "Fuck it. You didn't happen to be around in Germany when the officers held a fucking intervention against me, so you never really got the whole... story."

"Is that why you stopped trying to smoke yourself to death?" he asked seriously. 

Alice shrugged. "Dick and Gene said they would pull me off the line. I couldn't let that happen. I had to show them I could trust them enough not to... I don't know... kill myself inadvertently."

"Good. Jesus Christ, the way you were going with those smokes, I thought for sure they'd do you in," he admitted. George picked up a couple of pine needles and tore them apart. "I told Doc as much."

"Probably would've," she admitted. "I wasn't thinking straight. I kept blaming myself for Bernadette's-" her breath hitched. "Well, for everyone's deaths. I'm the reason Marc got killed."

"That jackass Nazi who cornered you in a bar is, not you," George said, anger practically dripping from his words as he spat them out.

She shrugged. "He was looking for me. I had slept with another Nazi officer a couple days before, to get some information for the resistance." For a moment, she paused, waiting for the judgement to fall. The memory of the women in Eindhoven, with their bleeding, shaved heads and bruised bodies flooded back to her.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Alice hadn't expected that response. To be honest, she wasn't sure what response she'd been expecting, but an apology had not been it. "I made the choice, to sleep with the man."

"Is it a choice when your whole damn country is taken over by people who want to kill you?" George asked.

Alice turned to him. She'd not seen him in Eindhoven. A lot of the men of 2nd Battalion had laughed along at the women being beaten. They'd seen them as traitors. And maybe they were. Maybe her circumstances had been different in Paris. But she found it hard to accept that. But George looked at her, not wavering, so she looked away.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't know, George."

"Well I do. So stop beating yourself up for it," he told her.

"Regardless, that got Marc killed, and Robert and I left. I never even got to hug Bernadette goodbye," she added. "We left that night. Germaine got a letter to our parents, and that was it. I wasn't there to keep her safe. And Robert left with me, so he couldn't get them out in time."

Silence fell for a few moments. Then he cracked a smile. "Robert. It's so funny, without the T sound."

"It's the French way, George," she reminded him.

"That's why it's funny."

She started chuckling. "Oh, Robert would've hated you."

George choked on the drink of water he'd just taken. "Wait, what?" He looked mildly offended, but Alice just shook her head so he calmed down.

"He was so protective of me. I swear he all but stalked Alain, my first real boyfriend, for a month. And that was in the middle of preparations for a war!" Alice laughed. "I remember one time, Alain and I were walking home from Le Jardin des Plantes. He was at a cafe across the street. When I called him out on it he just shrugged, and continued to watch!"

"Nixon would've driven him up a wall, then," George said, laughing.

That made Alice laugh again. "Oh definitely. He'd be aghast that I planned to marry an American at all, honestly. But I like you."

"Americans?"

"Yeah. Most of you," she added, frowning. Thoughts of Stanhope Nixon filled her mind, his type of rich socialite who hated anything to do with anyone not them. 

"Uh oh," George interrupted. "Someone pissed you off."

Alice shrugged. "Nix's father. He's a piece of work."

"Not a nice guy?"

With a scoff, she just turned to him. "Stanhope Nixon is terrible. He belittles everyone, especially his daughter. Hates me with a passion. Pretty sure he blames me for Kathy's divorce. He's a drunkard, and violent." Alice shook her head. "Nix hates him as much as I do,"

"Damn. I had no idea." He frowned. 

"We'll get through it," she assured him. "I'll bet you though. Nix is going to get tired of his bullshit someday and just leave the company behind. I think the only reason he doesn't is because of Blanche, his sister. Stanhope would probably take it out on her. She's about Victoria's age," she added. "I wish he would just leave. He has enough money already to not work very much."

"Knowing Captain Nixon, he'd probably go crazy without something to do though," George said. "Have you got a job, or are you enjoying the homemaker role?"

"Nix and I talked about it. One of the other executives at Nixon Works offered me a secretarial position. I can start whenever I feel like it," she said. "After we get married, I'll probably do that at least for a little while."

"When's the wedding?" George asked.

Alice winced. "We actually aren't holding anything special," she told him. "Don't be offended if you don't get an invitation. But Nix and I plan to just elope, to at least have a little time before the tabloids of New Jersey and New York eat us up."

He looked unhappy but shrugged. "Makes sense I guess."

Alice liked to think so. She hadn't told Nix yet, but she had a few ideas of where to go for a honeymoon. The thought made her smile as she picked at a pinecone. Run off to Europe, never see another page with responsibilities on it ever again. She'd made a joke about it, but sometimes it appealed to her. 

"I wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow." 

Alice glanced over at him. It surprised her, the genuine sadness in his tone of voice. At her questioning look, he just shrugged. 

"They don't get it," he tried to explain. "My family. The war, the friends we made. They want it all to go back to normal."

"It can't go back to normal," Alice agreed. "That I learned years ago, as soon as Hitler got elected."

"Yeah, I know. Shit. It's just not fair," he said, sighing. Trailing off, he threw a rock into the trees nearby.

With a nod, she agreed with him. But then she smiled. "If it makes you feel better, Bill's got a grand plan to get everyone together in a few months. Or anyone who wants to. A reunion of sorts."

"No shit. Really?" George grinned. Then he laughed. "Trust Wild Bill to do that. Well that's good, at least. Count me in."

"Me too. And Nix and Dick'll come if I have to drag them screaming by the ears," she added.

At the mental image, they both laughed. It was good to know that even with a goodbye like the next day would bring, it was only temporary. West Warwick, Rhode Island wasn't that far from Nixon, New Jersey. It was a few hours' car ride. They weren't all that far. As long as life could stay relatively quiet, there was no reason they couldn't occasionally visit.

"You know what, George?"

"What?"

"You were right. It's a pretty great boulder."