#037 - Epic HH Fic - Part One

[notbantamweight]

Title: None Yet
Series: Hogan's Heroes
Written: An eternity ago


Chapter One - Just Around The Corner

 

Toughened bare feet slapped the dry earth, tiny puffs of dust rising in their wake as their owner pounded down the track beneath the trees, breath huffing softly and hair the colour of applewood flicking and flowing around her with every step.

She knew that up ahead and just around the corner, she would find her father’s workers lazing about in the indecent summer heat. The rough blue cotton dress she was wearing was hiked up, allowing her to move, and more importantly, run unimpeded.

The autumn sun slipped across her gilded skin, supple and silky, and she half-closed beryl eyes against the glare, and the sudden gust that sprang up, whirling curlicues of dust around her as she loped down the path worn down through the ancient apple arbours.

As she followed the curving trail down the gentle slope, she began to hear their slow, musical murmurings, and the distinctive notes of a mouth harp. Almost unconsciously, her feet sped up, seemingly eager to reach the boys, and their rough around the edges nature.

There! She rounded the final bend, and there they all were, stretched out on the thin grass beneath the gnarled boughs of old apples, shirts either unbuttoned or missing, talking in a particular patois of English, and Sioux, the hard edges of cockney slang melding quite nicely with the musical phraseology of Parisian French.

She called out a greeting to them, and moved once more to meet them, but she tripped, and fell over

– And out of her soft warm bed. It had only been a dream, and once again she was saddened by the loss of her sunny, safe dream world. She sighed, and rolled over to stare up at her alarm clock, sitting there mockingly on her dresser. 0218. Damn it all.

A sigh escaped her lips as she picked herself up off the cold wooden floor, idly rubbing a sore elbow. She caught sight of herself in the mirror as she crossed to the window, and she almost did a double take. She paused briefly, critical eyes scanning over her image.

Once-long lengths of applewood blonde were cut boyishly short, and dark bags were far too prominent under her dulled eyes. She was clad in an old white flannelette nightshirt that skimmed the swell of decently attractive breasts, and fell concealingly over the curves of her waist and hips.

Too-large to be feminine feet capped off well-muscled and athletic legs, and now silently propelled her forward towards the curtained window. She concealed herself behind the wall, and carefully twitched back a small section of heavy fabric, observing the street below.

And there was the Gestapo car, silent and malevolent and black. She knew that at least two agents would be waiting to pounce on her if she so much as stepped outside. The curtain fell back into place with only a whisper of disturbed fabric, and she moved slowly away from it, almost giving up all hope of escape, until she looked over at the dresser, and saw the thin sheaf of documents, so innocuous, and yet so absolutely vital to the Allied war effort.

Tough bare feet padded over to the documents, resting so innocently on the mahogany wood. The only instructions she had been given was for her to deliver them to a ‘Papa Bear’, who apparently was a prisoner in Stalag 13. She also knew that if the Gestapo caught her, it would be game over for not only her, but all the people involved with the Underground in Hammelburg.

She swallowed heavily, remembering then her father, and his vast orchards of ancient apple trees, where she had played as a child, darting in and out around the trunks, scampering up into the branches, biting greedily into the first fruit of summer, sugary juices running down her chin, firm white pulp creating joy across her tastebuds.

A firm pink tongue then swept across her lips, almost tasting the phantom remembrance of pleasure, before she brought herself firmly back to the present, and she set to work, encoding the plans and information. She knew that she’d be working straight through until daybreak anyway, and so why not get started now?

AN: I was on music camp when I wrote this, and sat up until 11pm on a Friday night tapping away like a madwoman. So, here's the first bit. I'm a nutcase. That is all.


AUTHOR REALLY IS A NUTCASE. >.< I forgot to hide it under a CUUUUUUUUT. Fail.

ALSO: Massive shoutout/pimpage to 5_prompts , who gave me the inspiration to get over my fear and write this damn thing in the first place!

Comments

[ulysses-blue.livejournal.com]

Hi :D I'm at work right now, and I don't have time to read at the moment, but this looks totally cool and I'll get to it ASAP. Also, cute icon. It always makes me so happy to see HH-related activity and people participating in the fandom :D

This might sound odd, but I'd warn you to not post this at FF.net. They seem to despise any HH story with a female character. Srsly, it's a bunch of really pedantic people who enjoy debating stupendously boring shit, like the exact number of logs it would take to build the barracks at Stalag 13. I'm not even kidding, it's a freakshow over there. Steer clear.

[chezlehistoire.livejournal.com]

Thank you for the icon comment! I made it myself :D
I shall steer clear! I actually do have an account over there, but it's been forever and a day since I've posted over there. I just kinda gave up. It's filled with thirteen-year-olds and trolls and thirteen year old trolls.

Eeee! I hope you like it!