N. A. Hello! This is my first fanfiction. It would be really sweet if you send me some feedback and tell me how I'm doing. Some critisism is also welcome. :)

P. S. I followed the storyline as much as I could, but I had to add some AU details here and there. For those who are still interested: enjoy the story :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Band of Brothers. This is purely of entertainment. It is based on the HBO miniseries and the charming actors, especially Shane Taylor and Frank John Hughes. No disrespect is meant towards the real men of Easy Company. The only things I do own are Jessica and Neve.

Chapter One: Lookin' For Trouble

Aldbourne, England, 1944.

I turned in my bed again, but I couldn't fall asleep. No matter how I tried to cover my ears with my pillow, I could still hear the raindrops rapping against the window. The noise droned on, constantly breaking the silence and refusing to give me a single minute of peace. The downpour was definitely far from over.

Maybe the best thing to do was to give up.

With a quiet sigh, I tugged off my blanket and got out of bed. I winced when my bare feet touched the ice cold floor, but I did my best not to make a sound. Almost on the tips of my toes, I made my way across the room and stopped at the closest window. That was when I saw water. Oozing through a crack in the glass, it had already made a small puddle on the floor below.

Damn it. I quickly looked left and right, searching for a towel. As soon as I found one, I snatched it, went down on my knees and began wiping the water away.

But, while I was doing it, I took a brief look through the window. And, to tell you the truth, what I saw made me swallow a bit. The rain was so dense, that the houses just across the street were nothing more than greyish silhouettes. Even the lamp posts were almost invisible in the flock of raindrops. The only remaining traces of them were circles of dim and yellow light, which seem to hang in mid-air.

If you think it is November, you are terribly wrong. It was the last week of April, when flowers should bloom on every corner, and when the rain should leave this place for good.

It seemed as if the heavens had other plans.

"What are you doing so late?", a voice asked, yawning.

I turned around and saw my little sister coming out of the dark. Keeping her blanket draped around her shoulders, she came closer and sat on the corner of my bed.

"Where you having dreams again?"

"No." I sighed and tossed the wet towel in the sink. "It's the sodding rain this time."

She tilted her head slightly to the left. "Oh, cheer up, will you? This might be the last one before summer."

"And who told you that?"

"Me." As she slung my blanket over her shoulders, she glanced at my wrist. I noticed that she frowned a little before asking: "Isn't your shift starting soon?"

I looked at her, and then at my watch. It was 9:50 p. m… to my absolute horror.

"Damn it… late again!"

Scrambling to my feet, I began a quick search for my clothes. After some stumbling all over the room, I pulled my dress on and tied my shawl around my head. I was trying to tuck my hair under it when I noticed that my sister hadn't moved. She was still sitting on my bed, watching me with her chin in her hand.

"You should be sleeping", I said.

"I know."

Getting down to my knees, I looked under the bed and hoped that I would somehow locate my shoes. I didn't find them – but I found out where the half of the yesterday's salami had gone. At least that was something, wasn't it?

"I'm serious, Neve. Your school starts tomorrow!"

She furrowed her brow at me. "But, Jess, the storm is too loud."

"Just give it another go", I said, dashing to the other side of the room, "Hey, why don't you try closing your eyes and thinking about that lad you keep talking about… what's his name? Harry?"

"Now, that would keep me awake all night!", she replied. But, soon after, she raised her eyebrows and asked: "What are you looking for?"

"My shoes. You saw them?"

"Why, aye, of course!"

I whirled around and looked at her. "What? Where?"

"Well, two aliens stopped by yesterday and decided to take them as souvenirs. They seemed to have liked them a lot."

"Ha, ha… very funny. You're lucky that I'm in a hurry!"

Taking one more look at all the corners, I decided to quit the search and pick up my old boots. They didn't look too attractive, but they were much more comfortable than my shoes. I could also run faster in them, which was perfect for someone who was late.

"Alright…" After a quick glance in the mirror, I slung my rucksack over my shoulder and grasped the old door knob. The moment the door creaked open, the raindrops rushed inside, sprinkling the tips of my boots. "See you in the morning, sunshine."

Neve waved at me. Waving in return, I made a step back through the door. And then I felt the rain dropping on me with all its strength. Cursing under my breath, I took off my jacket and pulled it over my head. Hopefully, that should keep me from getting drenched.

And here we go again. Holding my rucksack tightly against my side, I turned left and dashed down the street, towards the bus stop.

Except my steps, the never ending pelting of the rain was the only existing sound. I barely moved when I became annoyed with it. Doing my best to think of something else, I glanced up at the houses around me. I had thought I would see lights on their windows, but there was nothing. All I could gaze at was darkness. Everyone in the village of Aldbourne seemed to be asleep – or somehow trying to sleep.

Everyone except me.

Oh, great.

The third shift in the factory is the worst thing a man could invent. Mark my words. It was the same every time, like some sort of hellish clockwork – get to the bus stop before eleven o' clock, reach the factory, find your place at the assembly line, work until dawn, hobble back home and crumple in your bed. And then repeat the whole thing five times a week.

In moments like those, I wondered what my parents would say if they could see me now.

As a corner of my lips bitterly curved, I slowly shook my head. No, they wouldn't say a word, because they were both gone. There was no use thinking about that now.

I glanced at my watch again. It was 9:59 p. m. I had only one minute before the bus arrived. Maybe I would make it to the bust stop on time after all. Smiling at the thought, I picked up more speed and approached a house on the nearby crossroads.

I was just about to go around it when something lunged from behind the corner. Whatever it was, it collided with me and swept me off my feet. My back slammed against the pavement, while something bulky and heavy fell right on top of me, knocking out all the air I had.

"Hey, watch where you're goin'!", the stranger shouted in his thick accent. Getting off me, he knelt and looked somewhere beside him. And then, for some reason, his entire frame became completely still. "Oh, Jesus Christ…"

Oh, shit. I spluttered and coughed, struggling to get my breath back. Propping against my elbow, I slowly sat up and looked in the same direction as the stranger. A box was lying a few feet away from us, turned upside-down. Everything that had once been inside it was now set free, scattered over the street.

The stranger suddenly dashed to the box. The second he reached it, he picked it up and began chucking things back in it. I blinked a couple of times before I realised that the man was wearing a uniform. I connected that with his unusual accent – and the result made my shoulders sag. He must have been one of those Americans, which are billeted in the neighbourhood.

I couldn't help but sigh in frustration.

Damn Yanks… I almost said that out loud, in front of him. However, I didn't get a chance for that, because something else stole my attention. His things weren't the only ones on the ground. My confused look changed into pure horror when I saw my rucksack in a puddle next to me. It was wide open. What mattered worse, all the papers inside had fallen out right in the water. Most of them had already been soaked in the cold downpour.

"Oh, no, no, no…"

Scrambling to my knees, I crawled to them. But, it was too late. They were so wet that they simply decomposed in my hands. In a matter of seconds, all the reports I had been typing were gone forever.

"What have you done?!", I shouted at the stranger, clutching the wet papers.

"What have YOU done?", the stranger shouted back, lifting a few rusty tools from another puddle. His dark eyes widened with furry. "Just look at this shit!"

I glared at him, ready to lash out. But, before I managed to blink, I heard a deep, familiar rumbling in the distance. That meant only one thing.

"Bloody hell."

I sprung to my feet, almost knocking the Yank out of my way. The bus was about to leave and I wasn't sitting inside it. Snatching my rucksack and grabbing my jacket, I sprinted straight towards the bus stop.

"Hey! Yo papers!", the man shouted after me.

I didn't turn around. Ignoring the rain that had already drenched me, I made my way across the street, just in time to see my worst fear becoming true. No sooner did I see it than the bus hummed into motion, ready to leave for the factory.

"No, no, stop! STOP!", I kept shouting, but my voice was nothing compared to the rumbling engine and the sound of the downpour. I desperately ran after the bus. However, before I managed to reach its door, the vehicle vanished in the night. It got away in an instant, leaving a grey trail of smoke behind.

After that, everything became silent.

I stood in the middle of the street, motionless and dumb like a statue. I didn't even notice that I was soaking wet. I just stared at the place where the bus had been standing, while rain was trickling down my face and clothes.

"Miss? Miss!"

A raspy voice made me turn around. The bloke who had run into me was now beside me. Stepping closer, he handed me the drenched papers I had left. But, when he saw the look on my face, his hand jerked back, while his brow furrowed.

"Are you okay?", he asked.

"Okay?" I snatched the papers from his grasp, making him cringe. "Do I LOOK bloody okay? I've just missed my bus! My ONLY bus to work, thanks to you!"

"Oh, c'mon, there are worse things that that!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know…" He thought for some time. "Like breakin' a leg or somethin'?"

"Even breaking my neck would be better than this!"

The stranger narrowed his eyes at me. "Look here, Miss, if you watched where you was goin', you'd get on the damn bus on time."

"Really, now? So, you think this was my fault?"

"No, it ain't. I think you just need glasses."

"And you need a new pair of eyes, along with a…"

I stopped mid-sentence when he suddenly grabbed my arm and jerked me towards him. Just a moment later, an enormous truck stormed past us. It had whooshed so close that I felt a rush of air against my cheek. With a loud screech, the truck rumbled down the street and disappeared somewhere among the houses.

I kept gawking in that direction, while my mouth was half-open. I hadn't even heard that thing coming. The rain was so bloody loud, that I would never have noticed it. It could have hit me just like that, without a warning.

Holy smoke. I swallowed a lump in my throat. Slowly turning around, I looked at the man standing next to me. In the meantime, he was gazing back at me, with bewilderment written all over his face. Even though the truck had disappeared from sight, his fingers were still firmly wrapped around my arm. Silence lingered between us for a while, until he finally asked:

"Are ya always like this?"

I frowned. "Like what?"

"Lookin' for trouble."

All I could do was shrug. "Maybe."

The stranger sniggered at that. I noticed that he had short, dark hair, while his jaw was slightly prominent.

"Name's Bill."

"I'm Jessica." I took my arm out of his grasp. "But, this doesn't mean I'll forget how you flattened me back there."

"Hey, now…"

All of a sudden, he went quiet and looked over my shoulder. Following his gaze, I spotted another bloke running towards us. He must have been a Yank, too, because he was wearing the same gear as Bill. The might have been from the same unit.

"Guarnere, thank God!" His accent was even stranger than Bill's. His words seemed as if there was some quiet music behind them. "Didya see a truck passin'?"

"Except the one that almost ran me over?", I retorted.

Meanwhile, Bill seemed confused. "Doc, what's wrong?"

The lad called "Doc" hesitated for a moment. And then, with an almost grim look, he answered:

"Nixon's drivin'."

Bill was now really taken aback. "Him? But, you told 'im a hundred times that Vat 69 an' drivin' don't go together!"

"I did. But, he didn't listen, did he?"

"Jesus… we gotta do somethin' before he turns somebody into a gahdamn pancake!"

"I'll try ta find da lieutenant. He can help."

"Okay, you do that."

The lad turned around, ready to sprint across the street. However, he made only a couple of steps when a crashing sound echoed through the village. The nearby windows rattled loudly in their frames, while Bill, Doc and I froze on our spots. It was more than clear what had happened – something big just ran into something bigger, which was very, very close.

Actually, it was right behind our backs.

A few seconds passed, but nobody dared to move. Nobody made a single sound, because we all knew what had just happened. I had to swallow hard again as I glanced over my shoulder. I barely managed to look behind me when a voice boomed through the sheets of rain.

"Damn, I love this place!"

A man with thick eyebrows and black, tousled hair suddenly appeared behind us. He swayed a few times, obviously too drunk to stand on his own, so he leaned heavily against Bill. I assumed this was the Nixon they had mentioned. He had a small gash on his chin, but he was pretty much alive.

However, I couldn't say the same for the truck, which was smoking not so far behind him. It had crashed into a lamp post that, by some miracle, still held its ground. The front part of the vehicle was wrinkled in an unbelievable way, while the windscreen was covered in cracks.

Bill and Doc looked at a drunk Nixon, and then and each other. After a short silence, interrupted only by the rain, I heard Bill muttering:

"Looks like we won't need Winters."