tag:dreamwidth.org,2012-09-23:1727907I'm a soldier, not a chorus girlI prefer pistols over pom poms.Captain Stephanie Rogers2012-09-28T03:08:30Ztag:dreamwidth.org,2012-09-23:1727907:448AU Milliways2012-09-28T02:02:02Z2012-09-28T03:08:30Zpublic273The door opens from one pub to the next. A rosy-tinted, warm little English pub filled to the brim with uniformed soldiers and local girls, crowing and laughing and being <i>alive</i>, really feeling it for the first time in longer than any of them would like to admit.<br /><br />The woman who is leaving that particular pub is tall - very tall, inches over six feet - shapely in her 1940s olive dress uniform. Her make-up is fresh, her tie in perfect order, her hair is even curled in classic victory rolls (it took three showgirls three hours to make it happen, but they're all used to it by now).<br /><br />Stephanie Rogers is grinning, flush-faced and filled with joy as she waves to a dark-haired soldier at the bar and steps purposefully into -- another bar.<br /><br />She recognizes a shift, a difference immediately, and keeps one hand on the knob even as she frowns thoughtfully at the room around her.<br /><br /><img src="https://www.dreamwidth.org/tools/commentcount?user=therighttime&ditemid=448" width="30" height="12" alt="comment count unavailable" style="vertical-align: middle;"/> comments